Chapter 191: Relic
The day bled gray into black without ceremony. Up here, the sun didn’t sink so much as vanish, swallowed by low clouds and endless snow. By the time Varik chose a place to camp, the wind had already sharpened, cutting through the gorge like knives.
They found shelter in a shallow recess carved into the rock wall, half-covered by drifts. It wasn’t much, barely enough to cut the wind, but with wards and fire it would hold.
Varik set his pack down and immediately began drawing a perimeter rune into the snow, mana bleeding from his fingertips in steady, precise strokes. Selindra worked on a fire pit, pulling collapsible rods from her coat that locked into a circle. She lit it with a rune stone, fire flaring blue before settling to a steady orange.
Lucen stood back, hands in his pockets, watching them with a lopsided grin. "Wow. Domestic bliss. You two could make a living decorating caves."
Selindra didn’t glance up. "Are you going to help or just run your mouth?"
Lucen’s grin widened. "Running my mouth is helping. Keeps the predators confused."
Varik didn’t look up from the ward line. "Sit down, Lucen."
Lucen mock-saluted and dropped onto a nearby rock. He stretched his legs toward the fire, heat licking at his boots. His mana hummed inside him, restless, itching. The cold outside was biting, but inside, he felt wired, like the relic’s presence was already tugging at the edge of his system.
’Abyssal bleed. Even from this far? Yeah, that’s not normal.’
Selindra finished with the fire and finally sat, pulling off her gloves. Her eyes flicked across the flames at Lucen, lingering. Measuring. Always measuring.
Lucen leaned back, balancing on the rock like it was a chair. "So, Selindra. Tell me, what’s it like being Elira’s golden blade? Does she give you medals every time you come back alive, or just a pat on the head?"
Her expression didn’t flicker. "I don’t need medals. Or pats."
"No, but you need something. Everyone does. So what’s yours? Approval? Control? A nice retirement plan with a cottage in the south?"
Selindra’s gaze sharpened. "You talk like someone who’s never wanted anything."
Lucen grinned, but his eyes stayed hooded. "Oh, I want plenty. I just don’t mistake my leash for a gift."
That landed. He could see it in the tiny twitch of her jaw, the faint narrowing of her eyes.
Varik finished the ward and stood, dusting snow off his gloves. He took a place between them, lowering himself to the ground like a wall being set. "Enough."
The fire crackled. Silence stretched.
Lucen smirked into it, enjoying the tension. Selindra’s presence was sharp, like a blade always at the edge of striking, while Varik’s was weight, steady and unmoving. The contrast was delicious.
He pulled a small ration bar from his coat and bit into it. "Mmm. Nothing like chalk disguised as food."
Selindra ignored him, pulling out her own supplies, efficient and silent.
Varik didn’t eat. He rarely did on missions. Lucen had once asked him about it, and Varik’s answer had been simple: "Discipline doesn’t hunger."
Lucen had laughed for ten minutes.
Now, though, as the fire popped and the wind howled outside, Lucen felt the itch of the relic again. A low pulse against his mana core, faint but constant. Like a heartbeat he didn’t own.
He tapped his thigh idly, thinking.
Selindra broke the silence first. "You’ve been weaving. Small spells. For warmth. Balance."
Lucen tilted his head. "What, keeping score already?"
Her eyes met his, cold and flat. "You burn mana like you have endless reserves. But your level says otherwise. Twenty-eight. You should be careful."
Lucen chuckled. "Oh, you checked my level? Cute. Did you sigh in disappointment, or were you relieved I wasn’t higher?"
Selindra’s stare didn’t waver. "It doesn’t add up."
’Ah. There it is. She’s smelling it.’
Lucen gave her a lazy grin. "Maybe I’m just efficient. Or maybe I cheat. Ever think of that?"
Her silence was answer enough. She was cataloguing him, same as he’d thought.
Varik’s voice cut in again, quiet but heavy. "Drop it."
Selindra didn’t look at him, but she obeyed, turning her gaze back to the fire.
Lucen smirked. And now she knows. He protects me when I don’t even need it.
—
Hours passed. The wind outside thickened into a storm, snow hammering the cliffs with muffled thunder. The wards hummed faintly, deflecting the worst of it, but the air in the recess stayed tight, heavy.
Lucen lay on his back near the fire, one arm folded under his head, staring at the ceiling of stone. His mind kept replaying that pulse from the north. Stronger now, like it was syncing with his mana flow.
’This relic. It’s not just bleeding. It’s calling. Hah. Elira has no idea what she’s sending us into.’
He closed his eyes, listening. Varik’s breathing was slow, steady. Controlled. Selindra’s was lighter, but also even, she might have been meditating, not sleeping.
Lucen smirked to himself. No one trusted anyone. Perfect.
—
The next morning was worse.
The storm hadn’t died, it had grown teeth. Snow slashed sideways, wind howling through the gorge like an animal. The wards had dimmed to faint cracks of light in the snow, nearly burned out.
Varik was already up, tightening his gear. Selindra packed quickly, efficient.
Lucen dragged himself up last, stretching. "Love what you’ve done with the place. Cozy, in a ’freeze to death in your sleep’ kind of way."
No response.
They moved out, into the storm.
Every step was work. The wind clawed at them, snow biting at exposed skin. Visibility was a joke — ten meters, maybe less.
But through it, Lucen felt the pull. Stronger now. The relic’s pulse thrummed against his mana core with every step, like a magnet dragging his blood north.
And he wasn’t the only one. He saw Selindra’s jaw tighten, her movements sharper. She felt it too.
Varik, though... Varik moved like nothing touched him. Steady. Unshaken.
Lucen laughed under his breath. ’Of course he does.’
—
The attack came mid-march.
The snow underfoot cracked. Too sharp, too sudden. Then the ground split, ice shearing apart as something massive clawed its way up.
A worm. Frost-white, armored in jagged plates, maw lined with rows of teeth. It shrieked, a sound like stone grinding on stone, and lunged.
Selindra darted aside, blade flashing. Varik planted himself in front of it, sword raised, the storm whipping his cloak.
Lucen grinned, mana flooding his veins. "Finally."
He thrust out a hand.
[Piercing Flare.]
A lance of white fire shot from his palm, slamming into the worm’s side, melting armor in an instant. The creature howled, rearing back.
Selindra darted in, blade slicing through the softened gap, sparks and steam exploding.
Varik followed, his strike a hammer-blow that cracked armor like glass.
The worm thrashed, massive body tearing through the snow. Lucen raised both hands, mana surging.
[Cataclysm Vector.]
The ground beneath the worm buckled, then exploded upward in a violent eruption of force, throwing the beast against the cliffside. Snow and rock avalanched down, burying half its body.
It screamed, writhing.
Selindra didn’t hesitate. She vaulted onto its side, blade plunging down into its eye. The worm convulsed once, then went still, steam rising from its wounds.
Silence followed. Just the storm.
Selindra pulled her blade free, chest rising with controlled breaths. Her eyes flicked once at Lucen.
Lucen gave her a lazy bow. "See? I do help."
She didn’t answer. But her gaze lingered. Longer this time.
Varik cleaned his blade, voice steady. "We keep moving."
And they did.
But the relic’s pull was stronger now.
Closer.
And the storm wasn’t the only thing waiting for them.
—
The storm eased as abruptly as it had begun. One moment the wind was screaming, snow clawing at their eyes; the next, silence pressed down. The world turned still, the air thin, brittle.
Lucen pushed his hood back, blinking against the sudden calm. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they crested the last ridge, and there it was.
The vault.
It wasn’t built, it was grown. Black stone erupted from the mountain face in jagged ridges, converging on a sealed archway half-buried in ice. Lines of glowing script crawled across it, not in any language Lucen recognized. The letters shifted when he looked at them too long, like they were trying to rearrange themselves inside his skull.
’Well. That’s not ominous at all.’
The ground around the vault was wrong. The snow had melted into a slick black slush, steaming faintly despite the cold. The air smelled of metal and ash, and every few seconds, the archway pulsed with a low thrum. Lucen felt it in his teeth.
Selindra stopped first. Her coat flared in the windless stillness, but her eyes didn’t move from the archway. "It’s awake."
Varik came up beside her, steady as ever. "A relic this old doesn’t wake without reason."
Lucen trailed a step behind, his gaze wandering over the jagged script. His mana core hummed, eager. Hungry. Each pulse from the vault matched his heartbeat until he couldn’t tell which was his.
He smirked faintly. ’Yeah. Definitely calling.’