The road to the north was nothing like the tales described in the guild records.
No banners. No echoes of past glories. Just scorched trees, bleached stone, and silence so deep it felt like it clung to the bones. The kind of silence that screamed.
Kael led the way, cloak billowing behind him, the Ashen Aura subtly pulsing beneath his skin. Every step toward the fortress sent a strange pull through his chest, like something ancient was calling out—no, reacting to him.
Drayke trailed close, cracking his neck as he walked, firelight sparking off his Infernal Gauntlets.
"This place gives me the creeps," he muttered. "And I like creepy."
Lyra's expression was more focused. "No birds. No monsters. No sounds. That's not just unnatural. That's controlled."
"Someone—or something—wants this path clear," Zera added from behind her mask, eyes locked on the horizon. "And they want us to reach the fortress."
Kael didn't break stride. "Then let's not keep them waiting."
The ruins of the old stronghold rose like blackened teeth from the earth. Once called Duskwatch, it had been a bastion for elite guild hunters during the peak of dungeon outbreaks. Abandoned after a mass vanishing.
Its name hadn't been spoken in years.
Now it waited.
As they entered the outer gates, Kael's Aura flared instinctively. The structure responded. Shadows peeled away from the walls, revealing massive murals etched in dried aura—scenes of old wars, fallen gods, and a sigil Kael had only seen in the Eye's vision:
A sword splitting a sun.
He paused. "This mark…"
Zera stepped beside him. "The symbol of Vaerix, an Eternal who once masqueraded as a human warlord. He corrupted entire guilds during the Shatter Wars. This fortress was once his prize."
Drayke glanced around. "So, we're camping in haunted enemy territory. Great."
"Not camping," Kael said. "We're taking it back."
Within the Fortress
They moved carefully through the halls, activating old aura-lit sconces that sparked to life one by one. Dust clung to everything, and yet the air was too clean. Like the place had been kept… preserved.
Lyra placed a hand on a cracked wall, feeling the pulse of dormant energy.
"There's a Ley Core underneath. Something massive. Sealed."
Drayke smirked. "So let's crack it open."
"No," Zera warned. "We open nothing until we understand what Vaerix left behind."
Kael's attention drifted toward a doorway at the far end of the hall. A strange hum pulsed through the air, resonating with his Ashen Aura. It wasn't just reacting—it was syncing.
He walked ahead without a word.
The room beyond was circular. Black stone. Cracked mirrors. A pedestal at its center held a relic unlike any other.
A sword.
Long. Jagged. The blade shimmered between obsidian and silver, as if unsure what it wanted to be. It radiated aura—untamed, raw, ancient.
Kael's hand twitched.
Zera entered behind him and froze. "That's not just a weapon."
"What is it?" Kael asked quietly.
"It's a Graveblade." Zera's voice dropped. "Forged from the aura of a fallen god. They were thought destroyed."
Drayke whistled low. "I want one."
Lyra didn't smile. "One wrong move, and it'll consume whoever touches it."
Kael approached. The blade pulsed harder the closer he came, like it recognized him.
He reached out—hesitant—then gripped the hilt.
And the world went dark.
Inside the Graveblade's Memory
Kael stood in a world of black sand and silver skies. Shadows twisted in the distance—monsters made of regrets and rage.
Then he saw him.
A figure of pure light and flame, wielding the same blade. His movements were flawless, cutting down shadows with impossible grace. But there was something in his eyes.
Despair.
He turned. Looked directly at Kael.
"You seek to wield what you do not understand."
Kael held his ground. "I don't seek it. It found me."
The figure's aura surged—solar fire wrapped in mourning. "Then you will bear its curse."
"What are you?"
"I was Vaelorn, last of the Dawnbound. Slayer of Eternals. Now… just memory."
The blade in Kael's hand burned white-hot.
"If you carry my sword," Vaelorn said, "then carry my sin. And know this—power taken is never power earned."
Then the memory shattered.
Back in the Real World
Kael gasped, eyes wide, steam rising from his skin. The Graveblade rested at his side, now faintly pulsing in sync with his Aura.
Drayke looked both impressed and slightly annoyed. "Okay. So you do get cooler swords."
Zera frowned. "You saw him, didn't you? The original wielder?"
Kael nodded. "He was warning me."
Lyra placed a hand on his shoulder. "But you're still you, Kael."
"For now," he said softly.
Then the ground shook.
A crack split through the center of the fortress floor. The Ley Core beneath had awakened. From the fissure rose not a monster—but a man.
Dressed in black armor lined with bone. Aura darker than shadow. A sigil on his chest: a sun cracked open.
Zera's eyes widened. "No…"
Kael stepped forward.
"You're Vaerix."
The Eternal smiled faintly.
"No. I am what he left behind."