The sun climbed slowly over the misty horizon, bathing the Black Cradle Hills in pale orange light. Dew glistened on the wild grasses, and the wind rustled softly across the empty paths. Birds chirped far off, unaware of the secrets unearthed just hours before.
Aeron stood at the entrance of the shrine, his spear strapped to his back and the mysterious shard tucked into a hidden pouch on his belt. The man he had rescued still lay unconscious, but his breathing was even now, and his pulse strong.
He had wrapped the man in a spare cloak and leaned him against a smooth stone. Now, his attention was focused elsewhere.
Aeron's eyes were fixed on the horizon.
Something was stirring in the distance—barely visible. A black plume of smoke rising over the treeline.
He narrowed his eyes.
> That's not natural smoke. It's coming from an explosion.
He grabbed his spear and activated Sky Step, one of the fundamental movement techniques he had mastered during his time in the Windflame Outpost. His feet shimmered faintly with wind essence as he surged forward, each step carrying him several meters with fluid motion.
Trees blurred past him.
His spiritual energy flowed steadily, and he adjusted his breathing to maintain balance.
Soon, he reached a clearing near the edge of a cliff.
Below, nestled in the valley, was the small village of Harken—just a few dozen homes, a central market square, and a modest cultivation hall.
Or at least, it used to be.
Now, fires licked the roofs, and black-cloaked figures stormed the streets.
Aeron clenched his jaw.
> Raiders… No—these aren't just common bandits. They're coordinated.
He spotted at least three groups.
One was securing the village perimeter, preventing escape. Another was dragging villagers out of their homes. And the third… he focused.
A man stood on a raised platform, wearing dark red robes embroidered with silver serpents. His aura was powerful—at least level 35, a Spiritual Warrior, high stage.
He held a staff carved from obsidian, glowing faintly with red runes.
Aeron dropped low, hiding behind the tall grass.
> A Spiritual Warrior commanding a raid in a backwater valley? That's too much power for a simple robbery.
He scanned the area and noted that most of the villagers were unarmed. A few local guards had tried to fight back, but their bodies now lay in the dirt, unmoving.
One boy—barely twelve—was being dragged forward, crying and clutching something around his neck.
Aeron recognized the object immediately.
A jade token marked with a double crescent.
> A disciple of the Crescent Moon Sect…
Aeron's eyes darkened.
He reached for the crystal shard he had claimed beneath the shrine.
A soft hum greeted his touch, like a heart beginning to beat.
His spear warmed on his back.
> Then let's test how far your legacy goes…
He inhaled deeply, centered his energy, and launched forward.
Sky Step: Wind Dive!
Aeron soared from the cliff like an arrow loosed from a bow.
He twisted midair and angled his body downward, forming a spiral that compressed wind essence around him.
As he descended, he channeled his core.
> Crimson Pulse Spear: First Form – Sundering Rush!
His body shimmered with crimson energy.
He crashed into the center of the market square like a meteor.
The impact sent out a shockwave, knocking several raiders off their feet.
The lead cultivator spun around, his red eyes widening.
"Who—?!"
Aeron rose from the crater, spear in hand, energy flickering wildly around him.
"I am the answer to your mistake," he said.
Without hesitation, three raiders charged him from different angles, their weapons glowing with spiritual enhancements.
Aeron parried the first with a sideways sweep of his spear, knocked the second into a fruit stand with a reverse spin, and caught the third by the wrist.
He activated Iron Root, grounding himself, then drove his knee into the man's stomach, sending him flying.
The leader sneered and raised his obsidian staff.
A black serpent of flame shot forward, twisting through the air with terrifying speed.
Aeron rolled to the side, avoiding the brunt of the attack, but a searing heat brushed his shoulder.
> That technique… it's forbidden. That's not just flame essence. It's fused with decay energy.
He refocused and activated his inner core.
> Crimson Pulse Spear: Second Form – Red Cascade!
His spear hummed with layered energy, glowing brighter with each breath.
He charged the leader.
Their weapons clashed.
Staff against spear.
Fire against pulse.
Boom!
Explosions echoed as the two cultivators exchanged rapid blows, their footwork precise, their strikes deadly.
Aeron spun low and jabbed toward the man's knees.
The leader blocked with the shaft of his staff and countered with a sweep of burning flame.
Aeron leapt back, using Sky Step to vault over the flames and re-engage from above.
They clashed again, but this time Aeron pushed harder.
He roared and channeled his full energy.
> Crimson Pulse Spear: Third Form – Heart Shatter!
A direct hit.
His spear struck the staff and shattered the obsidian weapon into pieces.
The shockwave knocked the man backward, crashing him into the central statue of the market.
Smoke curled from his chest.
Aeron approached slowly, spear aimed forward.
"You've lost. Surrender, or face judgment."
The man coughed blood but laughed.
"You don't understand, boy… You've only stopped one branch. There are many more, and soon, they will come for the shard. You cannot protect it."
Aeron narrowed his eyes.
> They know about the shard already?
He struck the man unconscious with the hilt of his spear and turned to the villagers.
The fires were dying now. Several survivors were huddled together.
One elder stepped forward, his face lined with ash and worry.
"You… you saved us."
Aeron shook his head. "I bought you time. Nothing more."
He glanced down at the jade token the boy had dropped. He picked it up and held it out.
"Who trained you in the Crescent Moon Sect?"
The boy, still shaken, wiped his tears and whispered, "My brother. He sent me here after the war started in the eastern front."
Aeron nodded grimly.
He looked at the broken statue in the market square—the last symbol of safety for the village.
It had cracked under the pressure of the battle.
> This is only the beginning.
He turned to the villagers.
"Gather your injured. Bury your dead. Then pack what you can and leave this place. The hills are no longer safe."
"Where should we go?" the elder asked.
Aeron stared at the rising sun, deep in thought.
"North," he said finally. "To the ruins of Thornhold. Tell the refugees there that Aeron of the Scarlet Vale has returned."
Then he walked away, not waiting for thanks.
Behind him, the villagers whispered.
They would remember this day not for the tragedy—but for the crimson light that had descended from the sky… and saved them from ruin.
Aeron moved through the forest paths in silence, his spear tucked under his arm and his core simmering with spiritual energy. The fight in Harken had cost him. He had used three of his core techniques in a single battle, and though he had won, his core now pulsed with strain.
Still, he pressed forward.
The name that raider had mentioned—the shard—gnawed at his thoughts.
> They came for it… and they knew where to look. Which means someone is watching.
He reached into his pouch and pulled the crystal shard back out. It was dim now, but the faint heartbeat was still there, as if waiting for something to awaken it again.
He stopped beside a river, letting its soft gurgling soothe his mind. As he sat on a rock and meditated, his spiritual energy slowly began to stabilize.
He breathed in deeply, activating a low-level healing technique called Vital Pulse Flow, which encouraged balance between the body's meridians and allowed core recovery at a moderate pace.
After an hour of sitting there, a sudden rustle in the trees made him open his eyes.
He didn't move but let his senses flare.
> Two life forms… no, three… fast, light footsteps—experienced cultivators.
He tightened his grip on the spear and stood, turning toward the forest's edge.
Out stepped a trio—two men and a woman—all dressed in traveller's robes marked by silver talons stitched on their collars.
Aeron's eyes narrowed.
> Silver Talon Syndicate. Mercenaries-for-hire. Ruthless, skilled, and loyal only to coin.
The leader of the group, a tall man with a silver beard and eyes like ice, stepped forward.
"You're Aeron of the Scarlet Vale, aren't you?" His voice was calm, but his stance said he was ready for battle.
Aeron didn't answer.
The woman beside him, younger, with copper hair tied in a braid, stepped closer and gestured to the shard. "We're here for that. Hand it over, and we won't have to fight."
Aeron gave a cold chuckle. "You came all this way… just to die?"
Without another word, he channeled his spiritual energy.
The wind around him twisted sharply as he activated Sky Step, launching himself at them with shocking speed.
But the old mercenary leader had anticipated it.
"Formation!" he barked.
The three of them spread out in a perfect triangular formation.
A barrier of spiritual light burst into existence between them—Tri-Spirit Chain, a rank-4 array technique that bound their energies into one defense.
Aeron's first strike bounced off harmlessly, throwing sparks in every direction.
He flipped back, landing on one knee.
The silver-bearded man's palm opened and a long glaive materialized in a flash of light. "I've heard of your techniques. You fight like a war hound, but let's see if your bark is louder than your bite."
The woman chanted a short verse and summoned a whip of flame.
The third man, silent until now, pulled two curved daggers from his belt, both glowing with dark purple light—poisoned.
Aeron breathed evenly and tightened his grip on the spear.
> Three against one. Good.
They attacked.
The whip lashed toward him in a curved arc, fire trailing behind like a comet.
Aeron dodged, spun beneath it, and thrust his spear toward the dagger-wielder.
The man vanished into mist and appeared behind him—Shadow Step.
But Aeron was faster.
He twisted and blocked with the spear shaft, then delivered a brutal kick that sent the assassin into a tree.
The whip returned, coiling around his wrist. It burned against his skin.
With a roar, Aeron channeled his spiritual energy and infused it into the spear.
> Crimson Pulse Spear: Fourth Form – Spiral Fang!
His spear tip glowed, then spun violently like a drill.
He slammed it into the ground.
A shockwave of compressed energy erupted outward in a circle, blasting all three mercenaries back.
Trees cracked. Earth trembled. Birds scattered from the sky.
The mercenaries groaned but rose to their feet.
The leader was bleeding from his forehead. "Not bad."
The woman's whip had burned out, and her hand trembled from backlash.
The assassin was gone—vanished into the trees.
Aeron didn't relax.
"I'll say it once," he said. "Leave. Or stay and die."
The mercenary leader spat blood and laughed. "We've been paid already. We don't leave empty-handed."
He raised his glaive and his energy surged to its peak.
"Then you leave in pieces," Aeron replied.
Their final clash was violent and blinding.
Aeron dodged sweeping glaive strikes and countered with precise thrusts that struck at weak points. The woman tried to flank him, but he used Iron Root to anchor himself and unleashed Red Cascade again, forcing her back.
The assassin struck once more from the shadows—but Aeron had already predicted it.
He spun with Wind Break, a circular slash technique that cut through shadow and silence alike.
The dagger-wielder screamed and dropped.
The battle ended a few breaths later, with Aeron's spear at the silver-bearded man's throat.
"You've lost."
The man dropped his weapon. "So… what now?"
"Tell your employer that the shard is under my protection now. And if they want it, they'll have to come themselves."
The mercenary nodded weakly.
Aeron knocked him unconscious with a single strike.
He turned back toward the river.
The shard was glowing again—brighter than before.
> So that's it. Every time it's used in battle… it remembers.
He wrapped it back in cloth and stared at the sky.
> The Silver Talons, the raiders… how many more are after this thing?
He knew now that the road ahead would be filled with enemies.
But he didn't fear them.
Because Aeron of the Scarlet Vale had awakened.
And the path to reclaim the fallen kingdoms had just begun.