The city was called Rothveil, though the locals had long since started calling it "Rotveil." The name fit better.
Gray haze clung to its skyline. Cheap soul-torches flickered from rusted poles, their light warped by soot and smoke. Most of the buildings were salvaged tech from fallen factions... slanted walls, energy leaks, copper-stained gutters.
Lucen entered without resistance. No one cared who you were in Rothveil, only whether you could pay or stay out of the way.
He chose the latter.
He kept his hood low and walked like a shadow. No Soulprint aura. No step out of rhythm. No pattern to memorize.
It took only an hour to find a fight.
Not his.
Someone else's.
---
A circle had formed around two combatants, a man and a woman. Both mid-tier Soulprint users. Their auras flared red and silver across the alley, lighting the cracked stone in glints of flame and frost.
The crowd roared, placing wagers.
Lucen stayed at the edge, quiet, watching.
> [Soulprint Detected: Crimson Threadfire - Condition: Stable]
[Compatibility: 72%]
[Extraction Risk: Moderate. Target health: Critical.]
The man, taller, broader, already burned on one side, was losing.
The woman's hands glowed crimson, strands of flame looping around her wrists like threads of fire pulled from cloth.
Lucen didn't need to guess.
She was weaving Soulflame. Dangerous. Precise. But it took focus.
And she was losing it. Too much flare, not enough control. Her enemy lunged in recklessly...
...and caught her throat in one meaty hand.
The crowd surged.
Lucen stepped through.
One step. Then two.
No one noticed him until the moment he moved faster than they could see.
The man's body hit the wall.
Lucen crouched beside the woman, her breath shallow.
Her skin cracked. Burns along her collarbone. Blood seeping from her gums. She opened her mouth to scream... only a whisper came out.
"Don't… take it…"
Lucen's eyes narrowed.
She knew.
He pressed two fingers to her chest.
> [Soulprint Theft Initiated.]
[Skill Acquired: Crimson Threadfire - Tier II]
[Memory Fragment Bound: Emotional Charge - Wrath, Regret, Defiance]
[Echo Severity: Moderate. Multi-Echo Warning Triggered.]
Her body went still.
Lucen stood.
---
The noise of the crowd died the moment he turned around.
They saw something in his eyes.
Or maybe they saw what wasn't there.
He walked away without a word.
---
The flames didn't settle.
Even as he moved through quiet alleys, Lucen could feel it crawling under his skin. Crimson Threadfire wasn't like Stone Skin. It moved. It remembered motion.
It remembered fury.
> "Burn it all... they watched and did nothing... let them scream like I did..."
Her voice wasn't his.
But it echoed inside.
Twisting.
Lucen gritted his teeth.
He sat behind an abandoned stairwell, pulled the Soul Ledger from his coat, and pressed his fingers to the cloth... more forcefully than before.
Focus. Filter it. Don't let the voice settle.
He began to write.
---
Soul Ledger Entry #3
Skill: Crimson Threadfire (Tier II)
Type: Elemental – Flame Manipulation (Weaving Style)
Damage Rating: ★★★ (Burning Pierce – Moderate AoE Potential)
Max Uses (Per Fight): 3–5 active thread extensions; cools after 10 seconds
Synergy Bonus: Can wrap around Stone Skin to form temporary Flame Armor (5 seconds)
Known Weaknesses: Susceptible to disruption from wind-based skills or water pulses
Echo State: Persistent; female voice with themes of wrath and defiance
Mental Load: Moderate – Induces slight aggression, mood instability
Combat Notes: Thread ignition delay of 0.7s makes it ideal for traps or reactive counters
Entry Condition: Acquired from dying combatant during Rothveil alley duel
System Note: Multi-Echo threshold crossed. Watch for layering effects.
---
Lucen breathed.
The voice faded... but not completely.
A flicker remained in the back of his mind. Waiting.
Three prints. Two voices. He could hear them even when he slept.
He looked to the sky again.
It had started to rain.
Not water. Ash.
Rothveil's broken air towers coughed soot into the clouds. Black flakes drifted downward like burned snow.
Lucen held out his hand and let the ash fall onto his palm.
Then he clenched it into a fist.
He needed more.
But not recklessly.
A pattern. A strategy.
He would test the system. Test the Soul Ledger.
Test himself.
---
Somewhere far from Rothveil, in a sealed chamber of obsidian and blood, a shadowed figure stared at a crystal sphere.
Inside it, a name pulsed red.
> "Lucen Vale."
---
End of Chapter 4
---