Chapter 73:
Chapter 73 – Whispers and Sparks
The Sovereign Ascendant
[ Radon at the Guild ]
The Wolfengarde Guild Hall was always alive with noise—metal scraping, boots pounding, voices rising and falling. But today, beneath the usual bustle, there was an undercurrent of something darker. Unease. Rumors whispered in corners, quick glances exchanged, like a storm gathering in the distance.
Radon moved quietly among the crowd, her eyes flicking from parchment to face, ears tuned to every fragment of conversation. She didn’t want to be noticed, blending seamlessly into the mass of adventurers and scribes.
“They’re calling it the Hollow Sleep,” a rough voice hissed near a table piled with mission requests. “Silent onset. No pain. No cure.”
Valheim, Draywick, Erosen — names like places of lost hope. Radon’s grip tightened slightly on her cloak. The words hit harder than any sword.
“Nearly thirty-five percent infected in some towns,” whispered another, the tone laden with fear. “Non-MP users… dead in thirty to forty-five days. Just... fade away.”
A gruff man scoffed, trying to inject calm. “Good thing Wolfengarde’s still clean.”
Radon’s eyes narrowed. That kind of hope was fragile, dangerous.
Then came the real weight, a rumor darker than the rest.
“There’s talk of an artifact,” a young adventurer said carefully, “the Lifebinder’s Prism. Said to reverse the mana shutdown in the brain.”
Radon’s breath caught. The artifact was legendary — almost myth. Only two or three were said to exist, scattered across the world, coveted and lost to time.
“One might be inside a dungeon here... the Vault of Hollow Echoes,” another voice added, barely a whisper. “Still uncleared.”
Her mind raced. The Vault had long been sealed by ancient wards, a place no one dared challenge. If the artifact was there... it was a dangerous gamble.
She scanned the room, weighing faces, threats, and potential allies. No one had claimed the Vault, and no one had returned.
If the rumors are true, and the Prism can reverse the Hollow Sleep… this could change everything. But at what cost?
---------
Later, the courtyard breathed quiet as I bent my focus to the stubborn earth particles swirling around my hands, attempting to coax them into metal.
Narissa stood across from me, arms folded, eyes sharp but amused.
“Metal is stubborn,” she said with a smirk. “It wants to stay in the ground. You’re not coaxing it. You’re arguing.”
I let out a dry breath, focusing harder on the mana flowing through my veins.
“I’m not known for my conversation,” I said flatly, shaping a rough shard of metal.
Her lips curled. “You know, I’ve never had a student give me a tour of town.”
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. “That’s because I’m a terrible tour guide.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Won’t you give your pretty teacher some royal treatment?”
I smirked. “Sure. I’ll bring Sylvie too. She’s better at guiding tourists.”
Narissa’s mana shifted, warmth prickling in the air.
“Oh?” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Bringing your maid to keep you safe from your own teacher?”
A flicker of amusement sparked in my mind.
“Of course,” I smiled lightly. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
She shook her head but the smile stayed, and the corner of her mouth twitched with a secret amusement.
I returned to my training, metal forming and reforming in my hands, the sparks of energy a constant reminder — power was not just force, but control.
________
The sun hung high, casting long shadows on the dusty training yard. The air smelled of sweat and earth, alive with the sharp sound of clashing wood and steel.
My aura instructor circled with the grace of a seasoned predator, spear poised like a coiled viper.
His thrusts came fast, probing for any weakness. I parried and countered, every move honed with deliberate precision. Two months ago, I would have been a step behind, stumbling and off balance.
Now, my strikes mirrored his—calculated, confident.
After sidestepping a spinning sweep, I launched a quick riposte, grazing his shoulder.
He stepped back, nodding with approval.
“Two months,” he said, voice steady. “And you already mirror moves I’ve drilled for a decade.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth, but I stayed silent. Praise was rare, and I was no stranger to humility.
“If you keep this up,” he continued, “I’ll be redundant in another month.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered.
He chuckled before growing serious.
“You should explore the dungeons soon. Not just for battle, but for artifacts. Some amplify aura flow.”
He tapped his spear to the ground.
“I found one that bound wind to my limbs.”
His eyes darkened with a caution that cut deeper than any blade.
“Those dungeons only activate under massive MP pressure. Whoever built them… wasn’t human. Maybe dragons. Maybe worse.”
The words settled between us like a cold shadow.
I was wiping sweat from my brow after cooldown drills when a flicker caught my attention.
Neon crouched behind a training pillar, one eye peeking out, fingers moving in a deliberate, secretive signal.
I tilted my head, eyebrow raised.
What now?
She gave a quick nod, her gaze sharp, serious.
Something was brewing.
The flags overhead fluttered softly in the breeze.
I shifted my stance, fingers twitching with anticipation.
Always something — like a tigress focused on hunting.
_______
Far from the training grounds, in a dim chamber lit by floating crystal shards, two cloaked figures knelt over ancient maps.
“Wolfergarde’s Vault of Hollow Echoes,” one murmured, tracing lines with a finger. “The Lifebinder’s Prism may be inside.”
The other’s eyes narrowed.
“We move fast. If the rumors are true… someone else already knows.”
To be continued
The Wolfengarde Guild Hall was always alive with noise—metal scraping, boots pounding, voices rising and falling. But today, beneath the usual bustle, there was an undercurrent of something darker. Unease. Rumors whispered in corners, quick glances exchanged, like a storm gathering in the distance.
Radon moved quietly among the crowd, her eyes flicking from parchment to face, ears tuned to every fragment of conversation. She didn’t want to be noticed, blending seamlessly into the mass of adventurers and scribes.
“They’re calling it the Hollow Sleep,” a rough voice hissed near a table piled with mission requests. “Silent onset. No pain. No cure.”
Valheim, Draywick, Erosen — names like places of lost hope. Radon’s grip tightened slightly on her cloak. The words hit harder than any sword.
“Nearly thirty-five percent infected in some towns,” whispered another, the tone laden with fear. “Non-MP users… dead in thirty to forty-five days. Just... fade away.”
A gruff man scoffed, trying to inject calm. “Good thing Wolfengarde’s still clean.”
Radon’s eyes narrowed. That kind of hope was fragile, dangerous.
Then came the real weight, a rumor darker than the rest.
“There’s talk of an artifact,” a young adventurer said carefully, “the Lifebinder’s Prism. Said to reverse the mana shutdown in the brain.”
Radon’s breath caught. The artifact was legendary — almost myth. Only two or three were said to exist, scattered across the world, coveted and lost to time.
“One might be inside a dungeon here... the Vault of Hollow Echoes,” another voice added, barely a whisper. “Still uncleared.”
Her mind raced. The Vault had long been sealed by ancient wards, a place no one dared challenge. If the artifact was there... it was a dangerous gamble.
She scanned the room, weighing faces, threats, and potential allies. No one had claimed the Vault, and no one had returned.
If the rumors are true, and the Prism can reverse the Hollow Sleep… this could change everything. But at what cost?
---------
Later, the courtyard breathed quiet as I bent my focus to the stubborn earth particles swirling around my hands, attempting to coax them into metal.
Narissa stood across from me, arms folded, eyes sharp but amused.
“Metal is stubborn,” she said with a smirk. “It wants to stay in the ground. You’re not coaxing it. You’re arguing.”
I let out a dry breath, focusing harder on the mana flowing through my veins.
“I’m not known for my conversation,” I said flatly, shaping a rough shard of metal.
Her lips curled. “You know, I’ve never had a student give me a tour of town.”
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. “That’s because I’m a terrible tour guide.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Won’t you give your pretty teacher some royal treatment?”
I smirked. “Sure. I’ll bring Sylvie too. She’s better at guiding tourists.”
Narissa’s mana shifted, warmth prickling in the air.
“Oh?” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Bringing your maid to keep you safe from your own teacher?”
A flicker of amusement sparked in my mind.
“Of course,” I smiled lightly. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
She shook her head but the smile stayed, and the corner of her mouth twitched with a secret amusement.
I returned to my training, metal forming and reforming in my hands, the sparks of energy a constant reminder — power was not just force, but control.
________
The sun hung high, casting long shadows on the dusty training yard. The air smelled of sweat and earth, alive with the sharp sound of clashing wood and steel.
My aura instructor circled with the grace of a seasoned predator, spear poised like a coiled viper.
His thrusts came fast, probing for any weakness. I parried and countered, every move honed with deliberate precision. Two months ago, I would have been a step behind, stumbling and off balance.
Now, my strikes mirrored his—calculated, confident.
After sidestepping a spinning sweep, I launched a quick riposte, grazing his shoulder.
He stepped back, nodding with approval.
“Two months,” he said, voice steady. “And you already mirror moves I’ve drilled for a decade.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth, but I stayed silent. Praise was rare, and I was no stranger to humility.
“If you keep this up,” he continued, “I’ll be redundant in another month.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered.
He chuckled before growing serious.
“You should explore the dungeons soon. Not just for battle, but for artifacts. Some amplify aura flow.”
He tapped his spear to the ground.
“I found one that bound wind to my limbs.”
His eyes darkened with a caution that cut deeper than any blade.
“Those dungeons only activate under massive MP pressure. Whoever built them… wasn’t human. Maybe dragons. Maybe worse.”
The words settled between us like a cold shadow.
I was wiping sweat from my brow after cooldown drills when a flicker caught my attention.
Neon crouched behind a training pillar, one eye peeking out, fingers moving in a deliberate, secretive signal.
I tilted my head, eyebrow raised.
What now?
She gave a quick nod, her gaze sharp, serious.
Something was brewing.
The flags overhead fluttered softly in the breeze.
I shifted my stance, fingers twitching with anticipation.
Always something — like a tigress focused on hunting.
_______
Far from the training grounds, in a dim chamber lit by floating crystal shards, two cloaked figures knelt over ancient maps.
“Wolfergarde’s Vault of Hollow Echoes,” one murmured, tracing lines with a finger. “The Lifebinder’s Prism may be inside.”
The other’s eyes narrowed.
“We move fast. If the rumors are true… someone else already knows.”
To be continued
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