Windrest never looked more ordinary.
Cobbled streets bustled with merchants peddling fruit, tinkers fixing tools, and children playing in alleyways. But beneath the comforting veneer, darkness pulsed in the cracks.
Reynar tightened the hood over his head as they passed through the northern gate with forged permits. Liora, in a plain gray cloak and leather armor, walked beside him like a traveling mercenary. Sylvie kept her head down and her ears hidden under a scarf, trailing behind as their "scout."
"We stay to the shadows," Liora whispered. "We find the tunnel. We leave no trace."
Reynar nodded, gripping the rune-dagger hidden beneath his coat.
They wound through the market district, past the scent of roasted nuts and smoke from street grills, until they reached an abandoned smithy on the far edge of the city. According to Liora's parents' old notes, this place had once served as a back entrance into the city's underworks—tunnels beneath the central tower.
Sylvie scouted ahead. After a tense few minutes, she gave the signal: coast clear.
The trio slipped inside, past rusted iron and broken anvils. At the back, hidden beneath a collapsed crate, was a trapdoor carved into the stone.
They descended.
The underworks of Windrest were quiet—too quiet. No echoes, no dripping water. Just long, dark corridors of etched stone and forgotten stairs, lined with cracked rune-lanterns that flickered to life as they passed.
"I don't like this," Sylvie muttered.
"It's too clean," Liora said.
They pushed forward.
Past one corridor, they found a chamber filled with cages—some broken, some still holding skeletons. Shackles were etched with silencing runes, and the air reeked of dried blood and bitter herbs.
"This is where they kept the sacrifices," Reynar said, voice tight.
And that's when the doors slammed shut behind them.
"Ambush!" Liora shouted.
Ritual flame burst from the ceiling as a glyph ignited. Shadowbound cultists emerged from side passages—at least eight, each armed with void-infused blades and wreathed in protective sigils.
Reynar reacted instantly. "Liora, left!"
He darted right, parrying the first strike with his dagger and driving a counterblow into a cultist's side. Liora danced around the second, slicing through his leg with her wind-etched blade. Sylvie vanished into the shadows—only to reappear behind two more with a devastating claw strike.
For a moment, it seemed like they had control.
Then came the real threat.
The masked enforcer—the same one from the ritual site—descended the stairs from the upper floor, his gold-trimmed armor gleaming in the flickering light. This time, he spoke no words. He simply raised one hand.
A wave of gravity crushed down.
Reynar hit the floor, pain lancing through his limbs. Liora barely rolled away, but her shoulder dislocated on impact. Sylvie was slammed into the wall and dropped like a ragdoll.
"No flashy system tricks now, Outcast," the enforcer said, voice like grinding steel. "You walked into the lion's den."
They fought on, bruised and bleeding.
Reynar tried to activate a burst from the system, but his mana surged too wildly under the suppressive field. The blade in his hand flickered and died. He looked up just in time to see the enforcer's gauntlet closing in—
And then, darkness.
He awoke to cold stone and burning lungs. His vision was blurry, but he saw Liora slumped against a wall, blood on her brow, her cloak torn. Sylvie knelt beside her, panting heavily.
They'd escaped.
Barely.
A tunnel wall behind them was collapsed—the result of a desperate spell Liora had triggered to sever their path and prevent pursuit.
"I… failed…" Reynar whispered, pushing himself up with trembling arms. "I thought… we were ready."
Liora looked up at him, her voice quiet. "So did I."
Sylvie didn't say anything. But her eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were dark and shaken.
That night, they limped back into the outskirts of the wilderness. They didn't return to Eidenweld. Not yet. They didn't want to bring danger back with them.
They made camp in silence.
The fire was small.
Reynar sat with his hands shaking, staring at his reflection in a broken piece of gear.
"We're not strong enough," he finally said. "We've been pretending we could handle this. But… this is a war."
Liora gently touched his arm. "Then we train. We grow stronger. And next time, we don't run."
Sylvie looked at the stars, her voice barely a whisper. "Next time… we don't lose."
[System Update]Quest Failed: Infiltration Incomplete. Objective Not Achieved.Injury Status: Minor Internal Damage – Healing RequiredParty Status: DemoralizedAffinity Updates:
Liora: 91% (Despite failure, trust deepened through hardship)
Sylvie: 60% (Shared vulnerability increases emotional resonance)
This was the lowest point they'd reached.
But from this, they would rise.
Stronger. Wiser.
And no longer naïve.