Chapter 9 – The Grave of Oaths
The invitation arrived as a whisper in the code—a fragment of text hidden within a routine system update:
[One – You have been invited to a restricted region: The Grave of Oaths]
[Access Method: Private Divergence Protocol]
[Do you accept? Y/N]
Klaus stared at the prompt, heart steady, mind racing. In his previous life, the Grave of Oaths had been nothing more than a developer's experiment—an abandoned zone rumored to contain echoes of broken promises and failed alliances. Few players had ever seen it, and fewer still had returned intact.
He tapped Y without hesitation.
---
A pulse of white light. A sensation of falling through memory. And then—
Darkness.
When vision returned, he stood in a vast cathedral of shattered stone. Arches soared overhead, their surfaces carved with names in a dozen ancient scripts—oaths sworn, pacts broken, vows betrayed. A chill wind carried distant voices, half-heard pledges of loyalty and whispered regrets.
[You have entered: Grave of Oaths]
[Memory Key Fragment: 2/5 Detected]
[Proceed with caution. NPC hostility: Disabled]
No monsters. No loot icons. Just silence and the weight of unkept promises.
Klaus's boots echoed as he walked. Each step felt like trespass. The cathedral floor was littered with broken seals—shattered rings, splintered staffs, torn banners. He knelt by one, a banner bearing a silver sun crest.
'Black Sun,' he thought. 'My old guild.'
He traced the edge with a gloved finger. A soft glow pulsed where his skin touched the fabric.
[Memory Key Fragment 2/5 Imprinted]
The echo came then—a ghostly whisper:
"The price of power is the cost of trust…"
He stood, pressing onward. His path led him down a side corridor, where torches still burned with pale blue flame. On the walls, murals depicted scenes of unity and betrayal: knights raising swords in solidarity, only to have them turned inward; merchants clasping hands, then drawing daggers; lovers entwined, then falling apart.
Klaus paused before one mural—a pair of sword-wielders back-to-back, their blades crossed in oath. One figure wore heavy armor; the other, a flowing robe. The artistry was exquisite, as though crafted by a master who understood both war and commerce.
He studied it.
'Heavy armor… flowing robe… twin blades…'
A memory stirred—an echo of a name he had not thought of in cycles.
Victoria.
He closed his eyes. No mention of her here, but the symbolism was clear: two paths intertwined, one martial, one mercantile. He filed it away.
---
Further in, the corridor opened into a circular chamber. At its center, a shallow pool of still water reflected a broken stained-glass window high above. The shards of colored glass hung suspended in mid-air, casting fractured rainbows across the stone floor.
Klaus approached the pool and peered in. The water shimmered, revealing code overlays and system tags.
[Event Node: Oath Resonance]
[Trigger Condition: Presence of Memory Key Fragment 2]
[Outcome: Echo of Broken Oath Activated]
He knelt and touched the water's surface. Instantly, the glass shards reassembled, forming the image of a woman—blonde hair cascading around heterochromatic eyes, one emerald green, the other sky blue. Her expression was solemn, determined.
[Echo: Victoria of Celestial Fang]
[Status: Betrayer? Protector? Unknown]
[Oath: Unspoken]
The vision spoke without sound:
"I swore to protect the fallen… but the world demanded blood."
Then it shattered, the shards scattering into the mist.
Klaus withdrew his hand, breath tight. He knew the Celestial Fang guild had only recently formed—its leader known as V, rumored to be a master swordswoman with a storied past. The match to the echo was unmistakable.
He stood, brushing dust from his cloak.
'She's here too,' he mused. 'Drawn by the same call.'
---
Behind him, soft footsteps approached. Not a guild scout, but a methodical tread.
He turned, sword half-drawn, ready.
A hooded figure emerged into the torchlight—a high-ranking envoy from Blood Oath, armor black as obsidian, etched with crimson sigils. The insignia of Darius's guild was unmistakable.
"Klaus," the envoy spoke, voice modulated by the environment. "Or should I say… One."
Klaus didn't lower his sword. "I'm surprised you accepted the bounty so quickly."
"I followed the breadcrumbs," the envoy replied. "Your merchant quests, your auction items, and now… this. The Grave of Oaths. A dangerous place."
"And yet you came."
"Power is never far from danger." The envoy paused. "What are you doing here?"
Klaus sheathed his blade. "Collecting memories. Laying foundations."
The envoy studied him. "The Blood Oath is mobilizing. We know you've been undermining the potion markets, rerouting supply nodes, recruiting… assassins. We've tolerated it for the spectacle. But this? This is beyond business."
He gestured to the pool. "What is this place?"
Klaus glanced back at the water. "A repository of every broken promise in this world. A place to learn… or be trapped by your own oaths."
The envoy's gauntleted hand hovered near his weapon. "And the echo?"
"Victoria's," Klaus said softly. "She's here too."
The envoy's eyes narrowed. "Celestial Fang's leader? She's an ally of Blood Oath—"
"She's neither ally nor enemy," Klaus interrupted. "She's a wild card."
They stared at each other across the silent pool. Outside, the cathedral walls seemed to pulse with unseen energy.
Finally, the envoy nodded. "We may have to work together. But know this—once the Blood Oath moves, they move as one. No second chances."
Klaus inclined his head. "Understood."
They parted ways—two shadows slipping through the mist.
---
Klaus returned to the pool, watching the water settle. The fragments of memory swirled, coalescing into a map overlay:
[Next Memory Key Fragment Location: Temple of Echoes – Hidden beneath the desert sands]
He committed it to memory.
'Temple of Echoes,' he repeated. 'Desert sands… ancient runes…'
A distant piece of the puzzle.
As he turned to leave, a faint glimmer caught his eye at the edge of the chamber—a small metallic disc half-buried in the stone floor. He knelt and pried it loose.
It was a seal: a serpent devouring its tail, etched in fine relief.
[Ouroboros Seal – Unregistered]
He pocketed it.
'Just a souvenir,' he thought, but a seed of doubt tugged at him. 'Or a marker… left for someone else to find.'
---
Aboveground, the forest mist had cleared. The cathedral lay quiet once more, as if nothing had transpired. The world outside remained oblivious to the secret that had unfolded beneath its feet.
Klaus emerged into the dusk, cloak billowing behind him. He glanced north—toward Halros—and south—toward the desert regions he had yet to explore.
In the fading light, he whispered:
"One thread at a time…"
And in the echo of his own voice, he heard a distant whisper:
"And then the tapestry will reveal itself."
---
[Word Count: ~2,060]