Location: Sewage Endangered Zone – Lower Halcyros Cradle
Time: [Cycle 8 : 09:05 – 11:00 Local Drift]
Objective: Eliminate or Banish the Mire Whisperer
Ren dropped into the sewer's intake shaft like a trashbag of destiny.
The air was thick — wet, hot, and full of arcane stink. The deeper he went, the more wrong it felt. Magic clung to the walls like dried spit and regret.
This wasn't just a sewer.
This was a cursed zone. A forgotten space where time hiccuped and gravity questioned its life choices.
He stepped through a runebar gate and into the central chamber…
And saw it.
The Mire Whisperer.
It rose from a pit of black sludge — 10 feet tall, amorphous, but shaped like a half-melted noble.
Its eyes were mouths.
Its arms ended in dripping claws of bone and sewage.
Every time it moved, it muttered — softly, like it was whispering to itself. Or maybe… to you.
"Turn around… bend the air… she's still screaming…"
"Drift is a lie… the stars are upside down…"
"You don't belong here… you shouldn't have opened that scroll…"
Ren's skin crawled.
"Yeah. Definitely needs a blade in the face."
He launched in.
Used Arix's Phantom Needle Draw — struck fast, near-invisible, straight for a nerve point in its side.
Thump. Connected.
But the wound closed.
The monster laughed in three voices at once.
It countered with a mana-pulse scream, launching Ren across the room.
Ren slammed into a wall, coughed blood.
"Okay. Physical's not enough."
He went for Shadow Anchor Footwork, circling faster, keeping his steps in rhythm with the Whisperer's shifting core.
Dodged two sludge spikes.
Threw a thread wire — wrapped it around the monster's mouth-eye.
Tried to pull.
It sucked the thread into itself.
The voice spoke from behind him.
"You've already been eaten…"
Ren whipped around — nothing.
A fake echo.
He was losing.
Until the glyphs burned.
His summoner marks activated.
"Contract Initiate: Shadowborn Legion – Rank I"
The room went black.
Not dark.
Black.
As in: shadows peeled themselves off the walls and rose like soldiers from the grave.
Six figures formed around Ren.
Each had his shape. But made of dark mist. Eyes like coal-fire.
Silent.
Loyal.
The Whisperer paused.
"…You bring echoes to fight echoes? Bold… stupid…"
Ren pointed.
"Kill it."
The battle was chaos.
Ren danced through sludge and spikes while his summoned shadows flanked and harried the creature, striking with mirrored versions of his own techniques.
One used Whisper Vein Strike — hit its spine-core.
Another used Thread Pulse Capture, pinning one of the bone limbs.
Ren himself finished it with a charged Echo Silence Blade strike, driving Vey'stryx straight into the creature's last real eye.
As Ren's final strike landed, the Mire Whisperer shrieked, its form twisting violently inwards — shadows pulling like gravity threads, trying to vanish back into the Vein.
But the glyphs on Ren's skin reacted.
They flared — spine, chest, wrist — and pulsed with black-gold light. His summoner circuit recognized the kill… and overrode it.
"Binding Contract Detected: Core Entity Threshold Confirmed."
Initiate Forced Contract?
[Y/N]…
[Y] — Auto-engaged.
The shadows wrapped around the collapsing creature, sealing its muttering form into a floating rune that burned itself into the air…
Then slammed itself into Ren's outstretched palm.
The glyph turned cold.
Then silent.
Then — part of him.
Ren gasped.
He felt it.
A whisper in his spine.
Not words.
Just… presence.
Like a dark dog, waiting for a whistle.
The Mire Whisperer was now one of his summons.
Bound. Claimed.
Ready to be unleashed in battle again.
Summon Added:
Name: Mire Whisperer
Class: Shadow Parasite / Echo Entity
Abilities:
– Whisper Field Distortion (Confusion)
– Corpse Sludge Form
– Mana-Scream Pulse
– Residual Illusion Trails
Ren stood in the silence.
Body pulsing with exhaustion.
Mind reeling with victory.
The sewers fell silent.
His glyphs faded, leaving only steam rising from the stone…
and the stench of victory and ghost piss.
Location: Two Hours Later – Hunt Association Guild Hall
Ren walked in.
Bloodied. Covered in ghost sludge. Tired. Absolutely radiant with smugness.
Tossed the evidence crystal on Trossa's desk.
"Done."
Trossa raised a brow.
"Already?"
"Single cycle."
She stared at him a moment.
Then smirked.
"Damn. I might keep you."
She stood, circled around him, eyes trailing across his burned cloak and half-melted shirt.
"Covered in spirit bile, bleeding from your eyebrow, and still breathing like a cocky little bastard."
She leaned in, low whisper.
"You look good wrecked, sweetheart."
Ren blinked. "Is that part of the evaluation?"
Trossa: "Just marking potential. Professionally. Sensually. Don't get excited."
She flicked him the payment shard, and a guild stamp token.
"You passed. Your next job will be... worse."
Ren: "Fantastic."
Trossa: "Clean up. Sleep. Next call comes in two cycles."
She turned, but glanced over her shoulder with a grin.
"Also… you summon well. Bet you do other things with that glyph stamina, too."
Ren coughed. "This is a work environment!"
Trossa: "Exactly. Get to work, hunter."