Chapter 2 – The Flames of Judgment

O som da cidade chegou antes da própria cidade.

Karmon era diferente.

Não era apenas a dor nos corpos de Grumak, Shiro e Helster. Era o peso em seus olhares, os gritos à distância, o cheiro de fúria no ar.

Eles mal haviam cruzado os portões quando a tempestade começou.

— Eles voltaram... e o nosso não!

— Monstros! Assassinos!

— Onde estão Lyra e Ravi?!

Vozes vinham de todos os lados, afiadas como lanças. O povo cuspiu ódio como se fosse justiça. Alguém jogou uma pedra. Outro se seguiu.

Grumak ficou na frente de Shiro e Helster. Seu corpo estava sangrando, mas seus olhos queimavam. Ele não atacaria. Mas se fosse necessário, ele cairia de pé.

— Lutamos até o fim! Nós os perdemos também!

"Kellen está viva porque não fugimos!" Helster gritou, sua voz falhando.

Mas ninguém ouviu.

Foi quando Elizabeth apareceu, andando como se não devesse nada a ninguém. Seu manto ondulava ao vento, sua voz cortando o tumulto.

—Fique longe! Eles estão sob minha proteção!

Ela não perguntou. Ela ordenou. E as pessoas obedeceram - por medo ou respeito, não importava. Grumak, Shiro e Helster a seguiram pelos becos, apressadamente, silenciosamente. Eles entraram em um lado da guilda, passaram por corredores escuros e desapareceram atrás de uma pesada estante de livros.

Uma porta de pedra os engoliu. A cidade permaneceu do lado de fora.

Lá dentro, o mundo era diferente: o cheiro de papel velho, aço adormecido e magia esquecida. No fundo da sala, uma caixa preta repousava sobre um manto roxo.

Mas o que me assustou não foi a caixa.

Era o nome brilhando nela.

GRUMAK.

"Como ela ...?" Helster começou.

"Talvez não seja mais apenas um jogo", murmurou Grumak.

Ele tocou a tampa. O calor subiu por seu braço. A caixa abriu com um clique suave.

Dentro, uma luva preta com linhas vermelhas que pulsavam como se estivessem respirando. E um pergaminho.

"Aqueles que carregam o legado da chama devem queimar antes de iluminar o caminho."

"As Luvas de Makar reconhecem o usuário."

"Queime. Transformar. Guia."

Elizabeth se aproximou, com a respiração presa.

"Isso é... uma relíquia. As lendas dizem que Makar foi o primeiro a domar o fogo. Esta luva só aparece para aqueles que têm um papel maior."

Grumak observou a roupa em silêncio. Então ele respirou fundo. E coloque-o.

A sala respondeu.

Runas iluminadas nas paredes. Um círculo brilhava no chão. A energia encheu todos os cantos como se a própria guilda estivesse despertando.

— Pai?! — Shiro se aproximou.

Grumak, ofegante, acenou com a cabeça.

— Estou bem. Mas algo... Mudou.

"O poder vai testar você", disse Elizabeth. "Mas ele escolheu você."

Lá fora, a cidade gritava. Batendo na porta da guilda, gritos exigindo justiça.

"Não posso segurá-los por muito tempo", admitiu ela. "A cidade quer alguém para culpar, não respostas."

Ela abriu um alçapão escondido sob o chão.

"Este túnel leva para fora dos muros. Siga para o sul. Em Eldoria, você pode encontrar abrigo... ou pelo menos tempo."

Antes de partirem, ele entregou uma mochila a Grumak. Comida, poções, um mapa. E um cristal azul.

— Se você está prestes a morrer, quebre isso. Eu não prometo que irei ..., mas alguém pode.

Grumak segurou o cristal com força.

— Voltarei. Não como um fugitivo, mas como alguém que mudará este lugar.

Elizabeth apertou seu ombro.

— Apenas volte inteiro. E com as chamas sob controle.

O túnel estava escuro e apertado, e parecia ainda mais apertado por causa de tudo o que eles deixaram para trás. Helster tentou quebrar o silêncio com piadas estúpidas. Shiro caminhou com o olhar fixo no chão. Grumak veio por último, sentindo sua luva pulsar como um segundo coração.

Quando eles emergiram, a floresta parecia respirar.

Cada árvore, cada sombra, cada folha parecia ... vivo. Como se Avalon sussurrasse segredos entre os galhos.

Eles caminharam em silêncio. Até que encontraram uma fogueira. O fogo ainda estava queimando. O cheiro de sangue.

Shiro cheirou o ar.

- Isso é novo. Muito.

Grumak se agachou, encontrou um amuleto meio queimado entre as cinzas. Algo antigo gravado nele. E então... Shiro congelou.

— Lá! - ele mirou e atirou.

— SHIRO! — Grumak gritou, correndo atrás dele.

Eles emergiram em uma clareira. E eles viram.

Um monstro. Gigante. Corpo de urso, dentes de crocodilo, olhos de pesadelo. E em sua boca... os restos mortais de alguém.

Shiro congelou. O medo o paralisou.

O monstro rugiu. E correu em direção a ele.

Grumak se jogou para frente, empurrando seu filho para longe. Mas ele foi atingido na lateral e jogado contra uma árvore.

Helster viu. Ele pegou um escudo caído no chão e avançou.

— VENHA, SEU FILHO DA—

O impacto fez com que a criatura recuasse.

— SHIRO! ELE ESTÁ FERIDO! REAGI!

Shiro finalmente respirou. Seus olhos se encheram de lágrimas, depois de raiva. Ele se esquivou das garras e balançou sua espada no monstro.

Foi superficial.

E o monstro brilhou.

A aura vermelha cresceu. Ele estava evoluindo.

"CUIDADO!" Grumak gritou, ainda no chão.

Shiro foi jogado. Helster quase caiu.

Grumak sentiu sua luva queimar. A voz veio como fogo à sua mente:

"Use-me."

— FIQUE LONGE!

Shiro e Helster se jogaram para o lado.

— FOGO!

Chamas irromperam do chão, engolindo o monstro. Gritos. Fogo. Freixo.

E silêncio.

Grumak desmaiou.

Shiro e Helster o arrastaram de volta. Eles usaram uma poção. Eles esperaram. Eles mantiveram vigília sob as estrelas.

No mundo dos sonhos, Grumak flutuava.

"Você foi escolhido. As Luvas de Makar são seu fardo e sua força."

“You will not use ordinary weapons. But you will gain power. Three abilities will reveal themselves:
Ignite. Rapid Transport. Copy Potions.”

“But remember: fire destroys as much as it protects.”

He woke with a sigh.

— Dad! — Shiro ran.

—I'm fine, said Grumak. —And I'm ready.

They found a map. A temple to the north. Maybe answers.

They walked for days ... They were exhausting days.

The forest tested them at every step. Hunger, monsters, treacherous terrain. Still, they pressed on—dirty, tired, but standing. Grumak was increasingly familiar with the power of Makar's Gloves. Shiro and Helster no longer hesitated at the sound of a twig snapping. The adrenaline rush had become routine.

That's when the trail opened into a clearing... and the threat materialized.

Five adventurers blocked the way.

They didn't say anything. They just waited. The attitude was that of someone who already knew who they were dealing with—and what they intended to do.

But among them, one stood out.

The one in front.

Tall, slender, but solid as folded steel. His hair was short, black, cut with almost military precision. His pale skin contrasted with his eyes… red, intense eyes, like glowing embers in the cold.

In his right hand, he wielded a sword with a sinuous blade that seemed to writhe like a living serpent. The hilt was shaped like a coiled viper, with ruby eyes. The symbol engraved on the steel was clear: a serpent biting its own tail.

In his other hand, he carried a grotesque shield—shaped like the head of a black dragon. The shield's eyes also glowed red, as if the creature were still alive, watching everything. A faint, dark vapor issued from the carved form's nostrils, as if the shield breathed hatred.

Grumak felt it right away.

—That aura… it's not that of ordinary adventurers. This is something else.

"That's pure poison," Helster muttered.

Shiro stepped forward, sword in hand.

But the man with the serpentine blade did not hesitate.

He advanced with absurd speed.

Shiro raised his sword to block, but as it collided with the enemy's blade, his weapon shattered in two with a sharp, dry sound. He was thrown against a tree, chest heaving, eyes wide.

Helster advanced, shield raised.

— DON'T TOUCH HIM!

The enemy swung his sword as if it were part of his own arm and parried the attack with his dragon-shaped shield. The impact threw Helster back several meters.

Grumak didn't think. He activated Ignite.

Flames sprang up beneath the enemy's feet.

Nothing.

The fire simply melted away upon touching it, as if it were afraid.

The warrior smiled. A slow, cold smile. Almost amused.

“He... nullified my flames,” Grumak muttered in disbelief.

Shiro, panting, drew his second sword. His hands were shaking, but he went. Quick, desperate cuts.

But the enemy... danced. He dodged with movements that seemed choreographed. The serpent-shaped blade hissed through the air as if it had a will of its own.

And then, in one blow, he struck Shiro in the stomach. The boy fell to his knees, coughing up blood.

The tip of the enemy's sword touched his neck.

Grumak shouted:

- NO!

The runes on Makar's Gloves glowed brightly.

Fast Shipping.

In a flash, Grumak was there, between them. He blocked the blow with his gloved arm.

The impact was brutal. He slid backward, his feet digging grooves in the ground… but he didn't fall.

— If you want to hurt my son... you'll have to go through me. — He growled.

A second enemy, a mage in a gray robe, was already preparing a monstrous fireball.

“GRUMAK, NOW!” Helster shouted from the ground.

Grumak grabbed them both.

— FAST SHIPPING!

They disappeared.

The roar of the fire engulfed the trees. The heat reached them even from a distance, as they surveyed the devastation left behind from a new vantage point in the forest.

But they were already far away.

Breathing heavily, the three knelt, panting, covered in sweat and dirt.

Shiro fell to his knees.

— I… I almost died.

“Those weren’t normal adventurers,” Helster said, still lying down, trying to catch his breath.

Grumak couldn't take his eyes off the smoke rising on the horizon.

— No. They were there for us. They knew who we were. They were prepared.

Shiro clenched his fists.

— No more running away.

Grumak stared at them in silence. There was something in his eyes—steadiness, clarity…fire. His chest still burned, but it wasn't pain. It was the energy of the Gloves. It was something deeper: purpose.

They were changing.

They were no longer just players trapped in a strange world. They were part of it now. And it was part of them.

“Let’s retreat,” he said finally. His voice was deep. Resolute. Like a stone that won’t budge.

Shiro nodded silently. Helster only gave a tired half-smile.

And so, they followed.

Bruised, yes. But alive. And with the flame of purpose burning in their eyes.

The trail was narrow, lined with tall trees that filtered the sky in golden streaks. The air was lighter, smelling of wet leaves and fertile earth. There was the sound of water running nearby, and the soft rustle of the canopies swaying like whispers. The forest seemed... alive. Watching.

They walked as if carrying history on their shoulders. Silence reigned between them, but it wasn't discomfort—it was respect. A kind of reverence for what they had endured.

Hours passed. Steep climbs, hidden clearings, moss-covered rocks. And then, ahead, the scenery changed.

On the horizon, outlined by the setting sun, a city rose like an ancient dream.

Round towers jutted into the orange sky. Ivy-covered walls lined the side of a cliff. A few houses hung over the edge, as if defying gravity.

But something didn't make sense.

Grumak stopped, looking around.

"Where's the bridge?" he asked, more to himself than to the others.

Shiro frowned.

— There's a river. And it's too rough. Swimming isn't an option.

Helster, attentive, pointed ahead:

— There. An altar.

Near the edge of the cliff, a solitary stone pedestal stood out. Covered in moss, aged… and yet strange. At the top floated a translucent, bluish sphere, pulsing slowly—as if it had a heart of its own.

They approached cautiously.

The air around the sphere seemed... denser. Warmer. As if something invisible was moving there, breathing along with them.

Grumak leaned forward, studying the carved symbols.

—I don't understand this language—he murmured, trying to decipher.

— It looks... ancient — Shiro commented, touching the runes with the tip of her nail.

“This thing is calling me. Like… really,” Helster said, taking a step back. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

The sphere glowed brighter. As if it had heard.

Grumak leaned in a little further... and slipped.

—Ugh—! — His finger brushed the shiny surface.

Instantly, a light exploded around them. Intense. Almost blinding. The ground shook.

And Grumak disappeared.

— DAD!! — Shiro screamed, his voice filled with despair.

Helster froze for half a second. Then he ran. Without thinking, without measuring. He touched the sphere.

Another flash.

Only Shiro was left now.

He stood there, heart racing, eyes glued to the sphere.

— Wait for me, you crazy people...

He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. And leaned back too.

The light enveloped him like a warm embrace.

And then, silence.

The altar remained there, motionless. The wind began to blow again.

The river continued to roar below, indifferent.

And the city across the river... remained silent.

As if expected.