The Ashveil Outpost loomed like a broken jaw against a sky shredded by storm-torn clouds, the air heavy with the reek of scorched stone and the sour sting of survival by a hair's breadth.
Caelum Ashborn kicked a loose stone off the ramparts, the five shards in his pack a restless snarl—fire licking ice, shadow choking gold—turning his Inferno soul into a furnace teetering on the edge of madness. Sylvara's retreat gnawed at him, her voice—The Black Dragon sees all—a venomous echo stuck in his throat, and the system's warning of her cunning withdrawal felt like a blade at his back.
The cult's hoofbeats had faded, but the silence screamed louder than their charge.
A low buzz crept into his skull, the Apocalypse System's voice a gritty lifeline. "Host, take the reins. Quest: Pursue Sylvara. New Objective: Hunt her to the Obsidian Rift, shatter her ritual in under two hours. Rewards: 1300 System Points, Dragon Soul Technique (Riftwalker), Ritual Insight. Fail, and her curse swallows the land."
Caelum's mind snapped to the panel, his breath a ragged snarl:
Host Status:
Health: 50% (Lacerations rotting, exhaustion a bastard clinging to my bones)
Dragon Soul: Inferno Tier (Fire/Ice Affinity)
Level: Mortal Tier 5
System Points: 3400
Skills: Basic Swordsmanship, Cinder Slash, Blaze Burst, Flame Veil, Frostflame Pulse, Blaze Aegis, Frostflame Barrage, Emberstorm, Voidshatter, Dragonheart Aegis
Allies: Mara (Bonded), Torren (Bonded), Sera (Bonded)Inventory: Frostwolf Pelt (1), Emberfall Shard (1), Void Shard (1), Frostspire Shard (1), Emberheart Shard (1)
"Thirteen hundred points," he muttered, his voice cracking with a bitter laugh. "Might buy us a grave—or a shot at that witch."
Mara staggered to him, her bandaged arm a dripping mess, her face a mask of pain twisted with a feral grin. "Your cursed ghost pitching us into another pit, Caelum?" she rasped, her tone a mix of venom and grit. "I'm half a corpse, but if it's Sylvara's throat I'm choking, I'll drag myself through her dragon's guts—don't you dare botch this, you reckless sod!"
He met her eyes, guilt slashing his chest like a dull blade, but resolve hardened his jaw. "No botch, just a hunt. Obsidian Rift's where we gut her ritual. We're moving—whether you like it or not."
Torren hauled himself up, his leg a swollen wreck, his hammer a shaky crutch, his face a roadmap of scars and stubbornness. "That black-souled hag won't slip me," he growled, spitting blood into the ash. "I'll crawl after her and crack her skull with my last breath—point me, lad, or I'll smash your bloody head instead!"
Sera approached, her white-flame sword a flickering ghost, her eyes shadowed with doubt but steel underneath. "Obsidian Rift's a dragon's boneyard—old magic's thick as mud there. If she's raising hell, we're chasing a nightmare. Those shards might be our only edge, but they're chewing you up, Caelum—watch it."
Caelum nodded, the shards' pull a searing leash yanking him southeast, his body screaming with every step. The system's quest was a desperate throw, but Sylvara's ritual could turn this wasteland into a graveyard. They stumbled down from the outpost, the plains unraveling into a jagged hellscape—obsidian veins pulsing like wounds, steam hissing from cracks, the ground a treacherous trap.
"Shard resonance locking on," the system murmured, a rare edge of strain. "Warning: Ritual energy spiking. Threat's a damn wildfire."
Mara cursed, clutching her dagger like a lifeline. "Feels like stepping into her gullet—let's rip her heart out before she swallows us!"
"Track her," Caelum barked, his Inferno glow a defiant torch. "Stick close, or we're done!"
They pressed on, the terrain a nightmare—obsidian shards slicing boots, steam burns blistering skin. A sudden roar tore the air, and cult guards erupted from a rift, their blades dripping shadow, led by a brute swinging a spiked mace with a grin that promised death.
"Ambush, you rotten bastards!" Caelum spat, his voice raw.
"Target: Cult Vanguard," the system noted. "Weakness: Ice overload. Hit with Frostflame Barrage—make it count."
"Frostflame Barrage!" Caelum roared, a jagged wave of fire and ice freezing the brute's mace arm before it snapped like brittle bone, steam clouding the air.
Mara's dagger, trembling but vicious, stabbed a guard's thigh, her snarl a wild cackle, while Torren's hammer—fueled by a sloppy Emberstorm—caved in another's chest, though he crumpled, blood soaking the ground. Sera's white flame carved a swath, but a mace graze spun her, and she cursed, "Bloody hell!" clutching her side.
"Emergency Quest: Wipe the Vanguard," the system chimed, tense. "Clear the rift path. Rewards: 450 System Points, Vanguard's Bane. Fail, and the ritual's a done deal."
Sera gritted her teeth, her flame flaring. "Drive them off, now!" she snapped, her voice a strained whip. They fought, the guards a relentless tide, until a spike ripped Torren's shoulder, dropping him with a howl that echoed like a broken bell. Caelum's stomach lurched—he couldn't let him die here."
Torren, hold on!" he shouted, lunging at the leader. The shards' chaos flared, a wild beast in his chest, and he unleashed a Voidshatter, the dark energy clashing with the leader's shadow in a blinding flash, forcing a stumble. The path opened, but a cult horn wailed, reinforcements closing fast.
"Stamina's bleeding out," the system warned, a rare crack. "Improvise, or you're finished."
"No quitting," Caelum snarled, hauling Torren up, his friend's weight a crushing anchor. Spotting a crumbling ledge, he shoved them toward it, the cult's arrows veering as a steam vent erupted, scalding the pursuers and buying a ragged breath.
They staggered to the Obsidian Rift—a chasm of black stone, its depths a throbbing wound of dark energy, Sylvara's chant slicing the air. She stood on a platform, the Black Dragon coiled behind, its eyes a predator's promise. Caelum's heart stuttered—this was no plan, just raw instinct.
"Target: Sylvara's Ritual," the system analyzed, strained. "Weakness: Disrupt flow with Riftwalker. Backlash risk high—brace yourself."
"Riftwalker!" Caelum yelled, forcing the shards' energies into a jagged pulse, the light shredding her chant mid-syllable.
The dragon roared, its claw slashing, but Sera's flame and Mara's desperate dagger thrust forced it back. Torren, bloodied and swaying, lobbed his hammer with a guttural cry, the blow glancing Sylvara's staff, splintering it with a crack that rang like thunder.
The ritual buckled, the chasm shuddering as if alive. "Quest near complete," the system rasped, almost relieved. "Get out."
Sylvara's glare was a dagger, her retreat a hiss. "You'll regret this, Ashborn!" She vanished with the dragon, smoke swallowing her threat. They collapsed, the rift calming. Mara slumped against him, her breath a wheeze. "You're a lunatic," she croaked, a faint, bloody grin tugging her lips.
Torren laughed, a wet, pained sound. "Lad's a hunter with a death wish."
Caelum clutched the shards, his soul a scarred ember flickering with resolve. "She's running, but I'll track her to the end," he growled, his voice a rough promise. "Next time, she's mine."
The system's warning lingered, a cold whisper. "Alert: Ritual fragment persists. Pursuit risky—proceed with eyes open." Caelum's blaze steadied, a hunter's fire burning through the dark.