Tap. Tap. Tap.
Solian frowned and turned in his seat.
"Don't wake me up…" he muttered, half-asleep.
A cold hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. His eyes shot open.
Lieutenant Soth sat beside him, sweat beading down his temple, a finger pressed to his lips, silently urging him to stay quiet.
Solian blinked, confused, but didn't move.
Slowly, Soth lowered his hand and pointed past him, toward the window.
Solian raised an eyebrow, then turned his head.
And froze.
Just beyond the glass, filling the window entirely, was not the sight of trees or grass.
It was an eye, vast and unblinking.
Its pupil was a thin black slit, cutting through a sea of molten gold that shimmered with impossible depth.
Veins of amber light pulsed faintly beneath the surface, like cracks in living glass.
The moment Solian's gaze met it, every trace of warmth drained from his body.
He didn't dare move. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
At last, the eye shifted.
The golden light rippled once, then slid out of view, leaving only darkness behind.
No footsteps followed.
It was simply gone, swallowed by the night as if it had never been there at all.
"It's gone."
After a long silence, Lieutenant Soth finally spoke.
"What was that?"
Solian's voice was low, but he could still feel the chill clinging to his bones.
Soth let himself fall back into his seat, exhaling slowly.
"I… I don't know. There's nothing in any report about a creature like that."
He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes unfocused.
"What about the man on guard?" Solian asked after a moment.
Soth's jaw tightened.
"Gone."
He paused before continuing, his tone heavier. "Search the area. If you find the body, recover any ammunition still on him. Then get ready for departure."
Solian watched him step out of the truck before following.
Cold air bit at his face as he crouched, scanning the ground.
'No footprints. No drag marks. Nothing.'
He walked toward the post where the guard had been stationed. A torch still burned faintly, casting long, thin shadows against the trees. But there was no trace of a man.
'If not for the missing soldier, there'd be no proof anything had passed through here at all.'
A shiver crept up his spine as the image of that eye returned,
The remaining two soldiers moved quickly around the clearing, checking weapons and securing gear as the first light of dawn began to bleed across the horizon.
It didn't take long before they were in motion again.
"Where are we going?" Solian asked, eyes still on the passing treeline.
"It'll take a full day of driving, maybe more," Lieutenant Soth replied. "We're heading for the capital. Even with you here, we can't keep patrolling with so few men."
"I see..."
Solian let the words hang in the air for a moment before he raised his hand and summoned his glove.
The thin black leather gleamed faintly for a moment in the dim light, dark brown seams tracing its shape like veins.
'Impenetrable, huh…' He turned his wrist slowly. 'Hard to believe.'
Even though it looked ordinary, it had already proven itself more than once. The descriptions, strange as they were, hadn't lied.
He gave a silent command, and a gold coin shimmered into existence between his fingers.
He pinched it lightly, studying its details.
One side bore a perfectly balanced scale. The other, a hand reaching upward, grasping for something unseen.
'The coin changed after I came here… just like my clothes.'
His gaze lowered to his attire.
He wore a long black waistcoat fastened with gold buttons over a dark shirt, a black overcoat draped neatly above it. His boots were sturdy leather, worn yet immaculate, and his trousers matched the same deep shade.
He leaned his head back against the seat, letting his thoughts wander with the hum of the engine.
The soldiers didn't miss the opportunity and slept for hours without waking up.
"Seems the soldiers are finally getting some real rest," Soth said.
"Does no one need to stay on guard while the vehicle is moving?" Solian asked, having nothing better to do.
"Not really. Anything that can keep up with the truck would probably kill us anyway."
"Makes sense."
Solian stretched his arms into the air as best he could in the limited space.
"You know, Solian, I've been meaning to ask about your relic—"
The rest of the sentence never came.
A wooden root shot through the window, easily piercing through Soth's head before continuing through one of the sleeping soldiers, bursting out the back window.
Solian's eyes widened.
He flicked up his hand, catching a second root mid-strike.
It shifted direction and shot upward, vanishing into the sky.
Solian aligned his fingers and struck the root again at its curve. Wooden splinters burst out from the weak spot like fragments from a grenade, grinding Lieutenant Soth's head clean off before tearing through the window.
He snapped his hand downward as a third root burst through the window. A sharp iron clang cut through the air before the root twisted mid-flight and shot downward between his legs, slamming into the earth with a thunderous crack that shook the truck.
"Fuck."
Not fast enough to parry, Solian braced himself for the fourth.
He shifted left, arm raised.
A root tore through the armored door, spearing straight through Lieutenant Soth before crashing against Solian's glove with crushing force.
Sparks scattered like fireworks, blinding white against the dark.
His muscles screamed under the weight of it. The impact sent his arm recoiling, the bone humming from the strain. The root's angle shifted, ripping through Kael's headrest before tearing through the opposite door and vanishing into the forest beyond.
Clenching his teeth, Solian grabbed the handle and shoved the door open.
He jumped out, stumbling a few steps before breaking into a sprint.
'It almost dislocated my shoulder.'
Cold sweat streamed down his face as he ran, breath harsh and uneven.
He didn't look back.
'I need to reach the tree line.'
Then his thoughts drowned beneath instinct.
He turned mid-stride, arms swinging.
His glove struck another root flying for his throat. The hit landed clean, but only the tip deflected, the rest stuttering mid-motion.
He couldn't see it, but he felt it.
'A critical weak spot.'
His eyes widened for a heartbeat before narrowing in focus.
He let the motion carry him through, the gloved hand guiding the strike while his right followed in its wake.
His fingers crashed against the root with a dull, heavy thud. For a moment, the world held its breath.
Then the tip burst open with a thunderclap.
A second explosion followed, then another, each shock rippling down the length of the root in rapid succession until the entire thing erupted.
The blast shredded it into fragments, raining splinters across the clearing.
Solian didn't hesitate. He broke into another sprint, boots hammering the dirt as he raced toward the forest's edge.
He didn't stop. Not even when the ground beneath him began to tremble.
Then came the sound.
It started as a low murmur. Then the pitch climbed higher, and higher still.
"Argh!"
Solian clutched his ears.
What had begun as a whisper had become a shrill, piercing scream, as if the depths of hell itself were howling in unison.
He felt it vibrate through his bones, rattling his chest, but he didn't stop.
Warm blood ran down his hands, soaking his sleeves.
He pressed harder against his ears, ducked beneath a fallen tree, then vaulted over a jagged rock.
His sprint came to an abrupt halt when the ground suddenly fell away before him.
Dirt and stone sprayed into the air as his boots dug deep into the edge.
Gritting his teeth, he looked down.
Far below, a narrow stream glimmered, carving its way through the rock.
He turned back.
Dozens of roots tore through the earth, weaving and diving toward him like serpents breaching from dark water.
Then the world blurred.
His coat snapped in the wind as he fell, arms flailing in the empty air.
He crossed his arms over his chest and shut his eyes.
A freezing rush swallowed him whole as he slammed into the river below.
The current seized him instantly, dragging him beneath the surface before tossing him up for a fleeting gasp of air, then pulling him under again.
All sense of direction vanished in the chaos.
He reached out, grasping at nothing, desperate for something solid to anchor himself, but there was nothing.
Then came the pain.
A sharp, brutal impact struck the back of his skull, white sparks flashing behind his eyes.
Instinct took over, he clutched his head, curling his body against the agony.
It felt endless, like drowning inside his own heartbeat, until his lungs finally broke the surface.
"Hoaa—"
He gasped, coughing violently as water poured from his mouth.
Even as the world spun and blurred, he spotted the glimmer of a shoreline nearby.
He forced his limbs to move, each stroke slower than the last, until his hands scraped against rock.
With the last of his strength, he dragged himself from the river, collapsing onto the cold stones.
He turned onto his back, chest heaving, eyes unfocused as he stared up at the endless azure sky.
His mind was in turmoil.
Everything hurt, and yet, somewhere deep beneath the haze of pain, he was alive.
—
He had no idea how much time had passed before consciousness finally returned.The moment it did, he jolted upright, one leg braced beneath him, arms raised, ready to defend. His eyes swept across the surroundings in sharp, instinctive motions.
Only when a dull throb pulsed through his skull did he stop.
He reached back, grimacing as his fingers brushed over strands of hair matted with dried blood.
"I must've hit my head."
He lowered his hands and exhaled.
The stone walls rose high on either side, while the river beside him cut its way forward, slowly carving itself deeper into the rock.
'At least the roots won't reach me down here.'
He was just about to start walking when, without warning, new information forced its way into his mind.
HIDDEN PASSIVE UNLOCKED
Critical Weak Spot
Solian waved an arm through the air, irritated, as if he could swat the message away. Then he turned downstream and began to walk.
When his thoughts finally steadied, frustration gave way to contemplation.
'How the hell am I supposed to reach the capital now?'
The canyon walls were too steep, smoothed by centuries of water and time. Climbing them was impossible.
And with the lieutenant and his men gone, all he could do was follow the river and hope it flowed in the same direction he'd been headed, toward the setting sun.
'Now… Critical Weak Spot, was it?'
His eyes unfocused as his mind drifted.
'That last hit, it was the strongest I've ever managed. So what triggered it? The power behind the parry? The timing?'
He willed the information forward, and it answered.
Hunter's Leather Glove
Recovered from a forgotten age of hunters. They fought in silence, for sound betrayed hesitation. The glove was both weapon and shroud, those who mastered it lived long enough to watch every ally fall.
Passive: Impenetrable, Weak Spot, Critical Weak Spot
Active: Parry, Summonable
'So it really did gain a new passive… but no description.'
He dismissed the words and kept walking.
Every now and then, he'd glance upward, searching for a slope or ledge to climb, but none appeared.
"Is the terrain… changing?"
He narrowed his eyes.
What had once been treetops and hanging grass above now gave way to something else.
Solian stepped over a fallen tree, the bark long stripped away.
'So many dead trees…'
The ground beside the river was littered with gray trunks, hollowed and smooth from years of decay.
He turned toward the canyon wall.
Above, lifeless trees stuck out from the edge, their roots clutching at stone, withered grass filling the cracks between them.
'It's like life itself was drained from this place.'
Before long, the ground ahead grew pale. Bones carpeted the rock, animal, monster, and things he couldn't name.
Solian's steps slowed to a halt.
A small creature, no taller than his knees, was hunched over a carcass, gnawing at strips of rotted flesh.
He approached quietly, stopping an arm's length away before crouching to meet its level.
'Does it not hear me?'
He reached out a hand.
The creature flinched, its body stiffened, and then it turned, revealing a twisted face frozen in terror.
It hissed once, before bolting away from him, vanishing between the gray trunks.
"Is it afraid of me?"
Solian looked down at his outstretched hand.
"Ah… I see."
He willed the information forward, and the response came at once.
Crown of the Goblin King
Once worn by the ruler of the lower tribes, its authority lingers in the eyes of lesser beings.
Passive: Fear of the King — Lesser creatures will no longer attack unless threatened.
Active: None
"It must be the crown's passive…" he murmured. "No wonder I've been able to walk this far without being attacked."
He dismissed the text and nudged the carcass with his boot, flipping it over.
A goblin's decaying face stared up at him, its flesh crawling with pale maggots.
"Disgusting."
With a short kick, he sent the body tumbling into the river.
It rolled once before the current caught it, carrying it away downstream until it vanished between the curves of stone.
After walking for another thirty minutes, the sound of flowing water began to fade, slowly replaced by a deep, distant rumble.
Above, the dark clouds started to shift hue, tinted faintly by an unnatural glow.
Solian increased his pace, not caring what bones cracked beneath his boots.
'The capital?'
With each step, the rumble grew clearer. Sharp cracks began to mix within the noise, repeating so fast they almost blended into one continuous roar.
'Gunshots.'
He had to stop himself from sprinting. Every part of him screamed to run, to finally reach somewhere safe.
The sound of the river was gone completely now, consumed by the distant chaos.
He looked up. The clouds above burned orange, lit by artificial light and bursts that flashed like explosions.
Even the air trembled faintly with each shock in the distance.
Ahead, the river curved sharply, its dark waters turning away and blocking what lay beyond the bend.
After following the curve for a while, something finally came into view.
At first, it was only a glow, faint and distant, pulsing through the mist like a dying heartbeat.
Then the haze thinned, and the light grew stronger.
Solian's steps slowed.
There, far ahead, a massive cone-like structure rose from the earth. Its black surface shimmered faintly, stretching higher and higher until it disappeared into the clouds. The upper half was hidden completely, swallowed by the sky itself.
The air trembled. The sound that had once been a distant rumble was now a low, constant roar, echoing between the canyon walls. He could hear the thundering of cannons, the rhythmic bursts of rifles, and something deeper, like the heartbeat of a living machine.
He kept walking, unable to tear his eyes away.
More shapes emerged in the distance. Towers, walls, and lights, each one climbing higher than the last. The further he went, the more the scale of it all pressed down on him.
Rivers of smoke drifted up from the base of the structure, vanishing into the clouds above. Searchlights swept across the horizon, cutting through the darkness in wide arcs. The flashes he had seen earlier were clearer now, bursting from the city walls in blinding waves.
The walls alone could have held mountains. They were carved from stone so dark it reflected no light, and lined with what looked like countless cannons jutting outward from their faces. Between the thunder and the light, the city almost seemed alive, breathing in fire and exhaling smoke.
Solian stood at the river's edge, water lapping quietly against his boots, staring in silence.
'A capital…'
The word felt small in his mind.
This was not a city.
It was a fortress, a machine built to defy extinction
Solian followed the river toward the distant structure.
He passed through a field of debris scattered along the riverbank.
Twisted sheets of metal jutted from the ground like broken bones, and the remains of old gun placements rusted where they had fallen.
The air grew heavier the closer he came.
The clean scent of the river was replaced by something metallic and bitter. Oil, ash, and gunpowder drifted in the air, carried on the wind that swept down the canyon.
When he lifted his eyes, the world itself seemed to change.
The colossal structure he had seen from afar now filled the horizon. At its base stretched a wall so massive it seemed endless, carved with faint lines of light that flickered like stars.
He followed the river until it narrowed into a deep channel that cut straight into the wall.
There, the water split into enormous tunnels, each one wide enough for a ship to pass through. The current flowed steadily into them, vanishing into the darkness. Reinforced rings of metal framed each opening.
Solian stopped at the edge, staring into the dark.
The roar of water inside was deafening, echoing like the breath of something alive. Every instinct told him to stay out, but there was no other way forward.
'If this leads into the city, then so be it.'
He stepped into the stream. Cold water wrapped around his boots and pressed against his legs as he moved deeper.
The light from the canyon faded behind him until only the faint shimmer of his relics remained.
He walked carefully, one hand brushing against the slick metal wall for balance. Pipes the size of houses lined the ceiling and floor, dripping with steam that curled through the air. The deeper he went, the louder everything became.
A faint light appeared ahead.
At first it flickered weakly, barely visible through the mist, but it grew brighter as he approached. The tunnel widened, opening into a colossal chamber filled with rising steam and moving shadows.
Water cascaded down from elevated channels into huge basins below, the surface churning from the constant flow. Rusted catwalks crossed the chamber above him, lined with thick cables and turning gears that creaked and groaned with every movement.
He tilted his head back and looked up. Far above, faint outlines of buildings were visible through layers of grates and metal flooring. Somewhere beyond that ceiling, the city lived and breathed.
'So this is the capital.'
After following the pipes for what felt like hours, Solian finally reached a section narrow enough to walk upright. The tunnels were still wide, but the ceiling now hung just above his head.
He let his gloved hand move along the damp wall beside him, taking every turn that appeared.
A few turns later, his foot struck something soft.
He stopped and took a step back.
"What's your problem? Just walk around, you bastard."
A rough voice came from the darkness ahead.
"I'm lost," Solian replied without thinking.
There was a pause followed by quiet cursing. Then the man began listing directions. Left, right, straight ahead, then another left. More turns followed, until Solian had counted over twenty.
He memorized each one before stepping over the man and continuing forward.
The deeper he went, the more people he saw.
Bodies filled the tunnels. Men, women, and children sat huddled against the walls or lay scattered along the floor. Fires burned in the wider passages, lighting up the space, with their dancing flames.
Whenever the flames revealed his face, eyes turned toward him.
Every time it was the same. Fear, horror, or disgust.
'The people don't seem to appreciate me.'
He looked down at his gloved hand.
'It must be how I look.'
His clothes were clean, dark, and perfectly fitted, standing out sharply among the rags these people wore. He could feel their stares on his back as he quickened his pace.
'Left, right, straight ahead, left.'
If not for the man's directions, he would have been lost a thousand times over.
Solian took one last turn, and there it was. Far down the pipe, past the countless bodies sprawled across the floor, a faint light flickered in the distance.
'Finally.'
He made his way toward it, stepping over limp limbs and belongings, until the tunnel widened into an open space.
He paused at the edge, lifted his head, and took a deep breath.
But what filled his lungs was not the scent of roses or bakeries.
The air was thick and heavy, soaked with the stench of oil, rust, and old blood.
Beneath it lingered something worse, a sour mix of sewage, sweat, and decay that clung to the throat and refused to leave.
He almost covered his nose, but stopped halfway, forcing himself to endure it.