The embers of the Ashen Vale still smoldered as Yeo faced the Nobals.
They wore armor kissed by starlight, their eyes glowing with faint divine runes. Their leader, tall and hooded, held a Flamecrowned Spear—a relic said to contain a fragment of a god's breath. His presence alone bent the heat around them, warping the air like a forge.
"I won't ask again," the leader said, his voice like molten stone. "Come peacefully, or be branded a heretic."
Yeo didn't move.
Inside him, the Echoes stirred.
[System Update: Resonance Threshold Reached.]
[New Trait Awakened: Memoryflare – Manifest fragments of ancient skill in battle.]
His blade began to shimmer—no longer steel, but laced with glimmers of the King's forgotten combat techniques. He wasn't just a swordsman anymore. He was becoming a legacy.
"I saw the truth," Yeo said, lifting his weapon. "The gods abandoned us. And you—still kneel?"
The Nobals tensed.
"You dare speak blasphemy in a divine zone?"
"I speak what your gods fear," Yeo replied coldly. "A mortal who remembers."
Without another word, the first Noble charged. Wings of fire ignited behind him as he soared forward like a comet.
Yeo's vision narrowed.
[Memoryflare: Starfall Counter – Engaged.]
In one fluid motion, he twisted his blade in a forgotten arc—the motion felt alien but natural, like someone else's ghost was guiding his hand. The Noble's spear crashed down—only to be deflected by a perfect crescent slash. The counter released a burst of force that sent the attacker flying backward into a crater of ash.
Gasps followed.
"Impossible," one of them muttered. "He moved like a—"
"Like a relic," the leader growled. "He's not alone. The Echoes fight through him."
Three more Nobals joined the fray. Their combined attacks lit the Vale in sacred fire. Yeo ducked, rolled, blocked, and struck—each move unlocking buried instincts from the Echo Resonance.
He wasn't faster.
He wasn't stronger.
He was sharper—every decision made with centuries of inherited memory.
But even with the upper hand, he was outnumbered.
That's when the ground trembled again.
A rift tore open behind him. A dark figure emerged—not hostile. It wore robes of broken time, half-consumed by memory static. Its face was hidden beneath a cracked mirror mask.
An Echo, unlike any he'd seen.
It spoke only three words:
"You are ready."
Then, it raised its hands. The earth beneath the Nobals warped, turning into a field of inverted time. Their movements slowed as though caught in sap. The Echo pointed at Yeo.
[New Ability Gained: Chronofade – Blink between memory states to avoid damage.]
Yeo activated it instinctively.
He blurred—then reappeared behind the lead Noble.
"Your gods are fading," he whispered—and slashed.
The spear fell from the Noble's hands. He dropped to one knee, stunned—not wounded, but disarmed.
"Finish it," the Echo urged.
But Yeo paused. He looked down at the enemy who had called him a heretic—who still believed in a pantheon that had let the world burn.
"No," he said.
He turned away.
"They want war. I'll give them truth."