Chapter 11: Echoes in the Ruins
Ryo Aelren's boots crunched on the molten stone of the Rift branch, the air thick with ash and the lingering stench of the draconic Riftspawn's charred scales. His leather cuirass was scuffed, his iron sword nicked from striking the obelisk, but the System's chime rang clear: Level 1: 50/200. Memory Fragment Progress: 4/10. The ruined city's runes pulsed faintly, their glow mirrored by the cracked mana crystal in his pouch. The whisper—Seek the forgotten. The key lies in ruin—echoed, urging him deeper.
Calen's team regrouped near the shattered obelisk, their faces etched with exhaustion. Mira cleaned her bow, muttering about the beast's toughness. Brom tended a burn on Elara's arm, his wards depleted. Calen sheathed his longsword, his scar catching the dim light. "Good work," he said, his eyes on Ryo. "That obelisk call saved us a beating. You're no porter anymore."
Ryo shrugged, his Rift Sense still humming from the runes. "Just saw the pattern."
Elara's gaze lingered, her mage's curiosity sharp. "Patterns don't scream 'target' in a fight. You're hiding something, aren't you?"
Ryo's Danger Sense prickled, but he kept his face neutral. "Instinct," he said, echoing his old excuse. Elara's lips pursed, but she didn't press. The System—Strength 4, Agility 6, Weak Point Strike 11%—was his secret, and the Memory Fragment was too dangerous to share.
"We're not done," Calen said, scanning the ruins. "The guild wants a full sweep—map the city, find the surge's source. Stay sharp."
The team moved deeper, the ruins growing denser. Crumbled spires loomed, their runes more intricate, some glowing, others dark. Ryo's Rift Sense flared with each step, guiding him past unstable mana veins in the ground. The whisper grew louder: The key lies in ruin. He clutched the mana crystal, its pulse syncing with the runes.
A faint hum broke the silence—not the obelisk's, but something older, deeper. Rift Sense pinpointed it: a sunken plaza ahead, its center dominated by a rune-covered dais. Shadows moved within, humanoid but wrong, their forms flickering like broken mirrors.
"Rift Wraiths," Elara whispered, her staff glowing. "Rank B. They're mana constructs, not flesh. Physical attacks are weak against them."
Calen cursed. "We're low on mana. Elara, can you handle them?"
"I'll need time," she said, already chanting. "Keep them off me."
Ryo's Danger Sense surged as the wraiths glided forward, their forms shimmering. Calen and Mira engaged, his sword passing through one with little effect, her arrows dissolving on impact. Brom's ward flickered, barely holding. Ryo's Rift Sense locked onto the dais—its runes were feeding the wraiths, just like the obelisk had fed the beast.
"Elara!" Ryo called. "The dais—target the runes!"
She nodded, redirecting her spell. Ryo sprinted toward the dais, dodging a wraith's claw, its touch chilling his skin. Survival Instinct boosted his agility, and he reached the dais, Weak Point Strike guiding his sword to a glowing rune. The iron blade cracked it, and the wraiths faltered, their forms wavering.
Experience gained. Level 1: 75/200.
Elara's spell hit, shattering the dais. The wraiths dissolved, their hum fading. Memory Fragment Progress: 5/10. The System's chime was joined by the whisper: The forgotten stir. Ryo's heart raced—the fragments were tied to the ruins, to the Rift's ancient past.
Before the team could recover, a new figure emerged from the shadows. A woman, cloaked in black, her face half-hidden by a hood. Her eyes glowed faintly, not Rift-touched but something else—mana, raw and controlled. A longsword hung at her side, its hilt carved with runes.
"Impressive," she said, her voice smooth but cold. "Few see the runes' purpose. Who are you, boy?"
Ryo's Danger Sense flared, stronger than with Gav. Calen stepped forward, his blade half-drawn. "Who're you? This is a guild mission."
"Veyra," she said, ignoring Calen, her eyes on Ryo. "I study the Rift's origins. You feel it, don't you? The old power."
Ryo's grip tightened on his sword. Rift Sense screamed—she was tied to the runes, the fragments. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Veyra's smile was sharp. "You will. The Rift remembers." She vanished, her form dissolving like the wraiths. The team stood frozen, the air heavy with her words.
"What was that?" Mira snapped, her bow raised. Brom's face was pale, Elara's thoughtful.
"Trouble," Calen said, his voice grim. "Finish the sweep, fast. We're leaving."
They mapped the ruins, avoiding further fights. Ryo's Rift Sense cataloged more runes, each advancing the Memory Fragment faintly. Back in Varnholt, the guild paid thirty silvers, Ryo's share seven. But Veyra's words lingered, as did the whisper: The forgotten stir.
At the market, Ryo spent ten silvers on a steel short sword, its edge gleaming. His pouch held six silvers, enough for a few weeks. That night, he studied the mana crystal, Rift Sense humming. The System chimed: Memory Fragment Analysis. Progress: 6/10. The whisper sharpened: The forgotten stir. Seek the heart.
Ryo's resolve hardened. Veyra knew something—about the Rift, the System, the fragments. The guild's eyes, Gav's threats, Calen's training—all were steps on a path leading deeper into the Rift. Level 1 was a start, but the heart of the ruins called. With his new sword and scars, Ryo Aelren would answer, no matter the cost.
To be continued…