Chapter 6: Echoes of Fate
The forest around Jae-Hyun and Ahri was still, an oppressive silence that settled between the gnarled branches and frostbitten roots. The pale morning light filtered through a canopy of skeletal trees, casting an ethereal glow over the path ahead. Jae-Hyun’s pace was measured, his expression a mask of focus as he adjusted the strap of his pack. Though the Frost Revenant Prime’s crown was safely tucked away in his pack, Jae-Hyun’s mind was preoccupied with the trials he had faced and the questions they had left unanswered.
Ahri followed a short distance behind, her eyes scanning the surrounding woods with a mix of caution and curiosity. The tension between them lingered, but she didn’t press it. The rift had left its mark on Jae-Hyun, and though she was concerned, she trusted he would speak when ready.
“You’ve been quiet since we left,” Ahri said casually, breaking the silence. Her tone was lighter, not prying but gently probing.
Jae-Hyun glanced back briefly. “A lot to think about.”
She nodded, walking alongside him now. “Whatever you faced in there… it’s not something I’ll pretend to understand. But I’m here, if you want to talk.”
“Thanks,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ahri didn’t press further. Instead, she watched him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders and the way his gaze seemed distant, as if replaying something over and over in his mind. He’s carrying something heavier than I can understand, she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. But whatever it is, he won’t let anyone else see the weight. They continued in quiet understanding, their steps crunching softly on the frost-covered ground. The faint smell of damp earth mixed with the sharp tang of frost, while a distant caw of a raven added a haunting undertone to the forest’s stillness.
----------------------------------------
As they walked, the air seemed to shift, a faint hum vibrating through the space around them. Jae-Hyun’s system interface flickered into view without warning, a new notification hovering in his vision:
System Notification: Rift Memory Detected. Access Memory? Y/N
His stride faltered for a moment, his gaze narrowing on the message. Ahri noticed the change and slowed, glancing at him curiously.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice steady.
Jae-Hyun didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the notification as if it might vanish if he looked away. His mind churned with questions. What could it show me? A chill crept up his spine, but it wasn’t just from the frosty air—it was the weight of something unknown. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone clipped. “Just… hold on a moment.”
Ahri didn’t argue, though her eyes lingered on him with quiet suspicion. She leaned against a nearby tree, crossing her arms as if shielding herself from the creeping unease in the air. Jae-Hyun’s finger hovered over the interface, his breath shallow, before he pressed “Yes.”
----------------------------------------
The world around him blurred, the forest fading into a swirling vortex of shadow and light. The scene solidified, and he found himself standing in a desolate landscape. The sky was a sickly gray, the ground cracked and lifeless. In the distance, a figure knelt by a modest grave, their shoulders shaking with sobs.
Jae-Hyun approached cautiously, his chest tightening as the scene unfolded. His sister was there, older and wearier, clutching a small bouquet of flowers. Her voice trembled as she placed the bouquet at the base of the grave, where his name was carved into the cold stone.
“Why did you leave me?” she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking with grief. “Why?”
The sight was a dagger to Jae-Hyun’s heart, each sob from his sister resonating like an accusation. He took a step closer, the icy ground beneath him cracking ominously, but he couldn’t reach her.
Then, from the shadows, came his father’s voice, sharp and cold. “It’s been a year. I suppose we should make an appearance, if only for appearances’ sake.”
Tae-Jun followed, his voice dripping with mockery. “The boy finally managed something useful. Took himself out of the way.” He chuckled darkly, brushing snow from his sleeves as though the scene before him was an inconvenience.
Jae-Hyun’s sister didn’t turn to face them, her sobs unrelenting, as though the weight of their cruelty couldn’t pierce the grief that consumed her. Jae-Hyun’s hands trembled, fists curling as he felt himself pulled deeper into the despair of the moment. I did this to her… I left her alone in their hands.
----------------------------------------
The pale ether gave way to shadows, its cold grip lingering in Jae-Hyun’s chest. He staggered slightly, his breath hitching as he tried to process what he had just seen. But the system didn’t let him rest. A pulse of light surged through the void, and the next vision took hold like a vice.
The scene shifted abruptly, the gray landscape giving way to a world drenched in darkness. Jae-Hyun stood amidst ruins steeped in blood and ash, the cries of the dying reduced to echoes. His blade, coated in gore, hung limply at his side, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. Corpses littered the ground—faces frozen in terror, faces he recognized.
Ahri’s lifeless form was the first to catch his eye. She lay crumpled beneath a shattered pillar, her empty gaze locked on him. His sister’s voice rang out next, sharp and trembling, her figure shrinking as she backed away.
“It’s not you… It can’t be you!” she cried, her voice raw with disbelief. Her tears fell, mingling with the blood-soaked earth.
Jae-Hyun tried to speak, but his voice failed him. The darkness inside him surged, like a clawed hand gripping his throat. He took a step forward, but with each step, the shadows that clung to him lashed out, leaving destruction in their wake. He had become a force of ruin, a curse upon everything he held dear.
The memory lingered, each lifeless face etching itself into his soul, until he couldn’t bear to look anymore. His chest heaved with labored breaths, the weight of his actions suffocating him. The darkness that had once been his ally now clung to him like a curse, and he was utterly alone, having destroyed the very world he sought to protect. He tried to scream, to fight back against the vision, but it held him, forcing him to see every agonizing detail.
----------------------------------------
Jae-Hyun’s knees buckled, his breath ragged as the vision faded into another shift. This time, the scene was brighter, almost idyllic. He sat at a wooden table, sharing a meal with Ahri and his sister. Their laughter filled the air, a warmth he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe it was real. The food was warm, the chatter light, and the world beyond the windows seemed untouched by pain.
The warmth of the scene was intoxicating—the sound of his sister’s laughter mingling with Ahri’s wry quips over the meal. For a fleeting moment, Jae-Hyun allowed himself to believe in the illusion. The food was fragrant, the light soft, and the air free of tension. But then, like a jarring note in a serene melody, a crimson flash tore through the sky outside the window.
Jae-Hyun’s laughter caught in his throat, his instincts screaming. The glow painted the room in sharp, jagged hues of red, casting ominous shadows that stretched unnaturally. His sister looked up, her cheerful expression faltering as unease crept into her eyes.
“What… is that?” Ahri’s voice was barely a whisper.
Jae-Hyun didn’t answer, his focus locked on the flash as it flared once more before fading. The moment passed, and yet it didn’t. The unease lingered like a phantom, a reminder that peace was fragile, fleeting, and never without cost.
----------------------------------------
The visions dissolved, and Jae-Hyun was thrust into a void. A voice, deep and resonant, echoed around him.
“Come to me, and I’ll answer all questions.”
The words were a lure, dripping with power and mystery. Before Jae-Hyun could react, the void shifted, and he was pulled into another vision.
----------------------------------------
He stood in a grand chamber, its walls carved from obsidian and lined with ancient runes that pulsed faintly. The air was heavy, thick with an overwhelming sense of dread. At the center of the room, a figure sat upon a throne of jagged stone, their features obscured by shadow. The presence emanating from the figure was suffocating, a power so vast it made Jae-Hyun’s skin crawl.
The chamber was eerily quiet as the figure began to speak, their voice low but carrying an undeniable weight. “You wish for answers. Then see the truth for yourself.”
The words pulled at Jae-Hyun, their weight irresistible. He opened his mouth to speak, but before the question could form, a flood of memories surged into his mind. The force of them was overwhelming, and he stumbled, clutching his head. His knees hit the cold obsidian floor, and the room seemed to spin as the memories consumed him.
Memories surged into Jae-Hyun’s mind, vivid and consuming. He was no longer a spectator but a silent observer, placed into a series of moments that unraveled the story of the figure before him. The memories were not his own—they belonged to the entity on the throne.
The Demon King had once been a ruler not of destruction, but of balance. The realms of mortals and demons had been separate, but harmonious in their uneasy coexistence. The Demon King’s rule was absolute, yet he maintained order, ensuring the power of his domain did not spill over into the mortal world. He had grown wise, deliberate, and, in the eyes of some, too "soft."
It was his closest allies—generals and confidants who had fought beside him for centuries—who turned against him. They had long believed that the Demon King’s restraint was a betrayal of their nature. To them, demons were meant to conquer, to revel in chaos and destruction, not to maintain balance. They whispered among themselves, their dissatisfaction growing into rebellion.
But they were not alone in their scheming. A higher force—a being shrouded in light, its intentions cloaked in divine authority—approached the dissenting generals. It promised them freedom, power, and the right to reshape Earth and the mortal realms as they saw fit. All they needed to do was ensure the Demon King was out of the way. The promise was irresistible. The entity guaranteed that with the Demon King imprisoned, the barrier separating the mortal world from their dominion would weaken, and they could rule unchecked. War could flourish, destruction could reign, and the mortals would be theirs to torment.
The betrayal was swift and brutal. The generals turned on the Demon King during a council meant to strategize for peace, sealing him within a prison of their combined power. The light-bound entity, watching from the shadows, ensured the bonds were unbreakable, locking the Demon King away in a void where time and space ceased to matter.
As the memories unfolded, Jae-Hyun saw the Demon King’s anguish. Not rage—though that was present, simmering beneath the surface—but profound betrayal. He had trusted his allies, only to have them strip away everything he had built. Worse still, the entity that orchestrated it all had used his imprisonment to turn the mortal world into a playground for chaos. The Earth had become a battleground, its people pawns in a game they didn’t understand.
The memory shifted, and Jae-Hyun found himself standing amidst the aftermath. The mortal world was in flames, torn apart by the demons unleashed in the wake of the Demon King’s fall. His once-loyal allies reveled in the destruction, their laughter echoing in Jae-Hyun’s ears. Above it all, the faint, ethereal glow of the light-bound entity loomed, observing from afar.
“This is what they wanted,” the voice of the Demon King resonated, filled with equal parts sorrow and fury. “War without end. Chaos unbridled. And they used me as the key to unlock it.”
The memory dissolved, and Jae-Hyun was back in the void, standing before the throne. The figure leaned forward slightly, the shadows parting just enough to reveal piercing, ember-like eyes. For the first time, Jae-Hyun felt as though he was being truly seen, his very soul laid bare before this being.
“They thought i was weak,” the Demon King continued. “And so they struck, believing I would not retaliate. But I see now. I was not weak—I was foolish. Foolish to trust, foolish to believe that order could coexist with ambition.”
Jae-Hyun’s fists clenched as the weight of the story settled over him. The betrayal, the manipulation—it all resonated far too deeply. He thought of his father and brother, their cold betrayal and mockery of his efforts. The parallels were undeniable.
“Why show me this?” Jae-Hyun asked, his voice low but steady. “What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?”
The Demon King’s eyes glowed brighter, his voice a rumble that shook the void itself. “Because you stand at a crossroads, mortal. The forces that move against you are the same that betrayed me. Their reach is long, their influence insidious. But they are not omnipotent. I tell you this because you will face them, and you will have a choice: to submit, as my generals did, or to resist.”
Jae-Hyun’s fists clenched, his mind racing as the weight of the Demon King’s words settled over him. He felt the fire of defiance stir within, but alongside it, a seed of doubt took root. Could he truly stand against something so vast, so insidious?
“And if I resist?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm, though his thoughts swirled with uncertainty. What would resistance mean—what sacrifices would it demand? He pictured the faces of those who had betrayed him, his sister’s fragile hope, and the shadows of enemies he had yet to even comprehend. A flicker of doubt gnawed at his resolve, but he buried it beneath a hardened glare, waiting for the Demon King’s answer. “What then?”
The Demon King’s ember-like eyes locked onto Jae-Hyun’s, and for a moment, the overwhelming presence seemed to soften, carrying a strange mixture of pity and respect. “Then you will walk a path fraught with peril and loss. But it will be yours to walk. Strength will not come easily, nor without sacrifice. But understand this: the true battle is not fought with brute force, but with will. Do not allow them to twist you, as they twisted my generals.”
Before Jae-Hyun could respond, the figure began to dissolve, its form fading into the shadows. The void around him collapsed, and with a sharp gasp, Jae-Hyun was thrust back into reality. The forest was unchanged, the pale light filtering through the trees, but the weight on him was unbearable.
Jae-Hyun staggered slightly, his chest heaving as though the weight of the revelations threatened to crush him. Each gasp carried the sting of realization, his mind replaying the words and images that had unraveled before him. His body trembled—not from physical strain, but from the sheer emotional toll of standing on the precipice of something vast and terrifying. He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself as a cold sweat trickled down his temple, his thoughts a chaotic storm of doubt, fear, and resolve. Then, as if responding to the intensity of his emotions, the system interface flickered into view, but something was wrong. The text was distorted, glitching and unreadable. A red error message appeared, accompanied by a loud chime:
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
System Error: Unauthorized Data Access Detected. Immediate Reboot Required.
Jae-Hyun’s pulse quickened as he stared at the message, its stark simplicity belying the chaos it had unleashed within him. His mind churned, questions piling on top of each other: what had triggered this? Was it tied to the Demon King’s revelations? And, most disturbingly, what else might the system be hiding from him? The distortion of the text and the eerie chime added to the disorientation, as though the very fabric of the system he relied upon was unraveling.
Two options flashed before him:
1. Reboot
2. Reboot and Upgrade
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the options. His instincts screamed caution, but curiosity gnawed at him. His finger hovered over the second option before he pressed it. The interface glitched violently before disappearing entirely. A message followed:
System Reboot in Progress. Estimated Time: 1 Hour.
The oppressive silence returned, leaving Jae-Hyun alone with his thoughts. Ahri, leaning against a tree nearby, watched him closely. Her brow furrowed, a faint worry flickering in her eyes. Though she said nothing, her thoughts churned.
He’s hiding something. Whatever he saw, it’s weighing on him more than anything I’ve seen before. She glanced down briefly, her hands tightening around the edges of her cloak. And yet... I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to help him or even if he’ll ever share it. Not fully.
Jae-Hyun stepped away, sitting on a fallen log, his mind replaying everything he had just seen and heard. The betrayal of the Demon King’s allies, the manipulation by the light-bound entity—it all painted a picture of a world where trust was dangerous, and strength was the only currency that mattered.
“They thought he was weak,” Jae-Hyun muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his blade. “But he wasn’t. He was just… too trusting.”
The forest seemed quieter now, the rustle of leaves and distant chirping replaced by a haunting stillness. A biting wind whispered through the skeletal branches, carrying with it a chill that felt almost alive. Jae-Hyun’s gaze shifted to the ground, his fingers gripping the edge of the log as if anchoring himself. The Demon King’s final words echoed in his mind, their weight inescapable. The betrayal, the manipulation, the endless war—it all pointed to a truth he could no longer ignore.
The figure’s parting voice lingered like an unspoken command: “Come to me, and I’ll answer all questions.”
His breathing steadied as a grim realization took hold, though unease clawed at the edges of his thoughts.
The memory of the Demon King’s ember-like eyes burned in his thoughts, a mixture of defiance and betrayal etched into his voice. To face such a being on its own ground would be more than perilous; it would demand a strength Jae-Hyun wasn’t certain he possessed. And yet, there was no turning away. Whatever awaited him in that forsaken realm, he would face it—not just for the answers, but for the strength he needed to protect what mattered most. If he truly wanted to understand the forces that moved against him, to uncover the root of their machinations, there was only one place he could find those answers.
Hell.
He would have to go to the Demon King himself.
The very thought sent a chill through him, but it also ignited a spark of resolve. Whatever awaited him in that forsaken realm, he would face it. Not just for the answers, but for the strength he needed to protect what mattered most.
The forest's silence seemed heavier as Jae-Hyun leaned against the rough bark of a tree, his thoughts running wild. The system reboot had thrown him into an uneasy limbo, and for the first time, he felt entirely disconnected from the power he relied on. Beside him, Ahri sat quietly, the faint rustle of her cloak breaking the stillness as she adjusted it around her shoulders. Her eyes darted to him occasionally, concern flickering but unspoken.
----------------------------------------
The faint chime of the system finally returned, startling Jae-Hyun from his thoughts. A soft glow materialized in front of him, lines of text scrolling in a slow, deliberate crawl:
System Reboot Complete. System Upgrade Initiated.
"Upgrade?" Jae-Hyun muttered, his brow furrowing. The interface flickered again, and a new notification appeared:
New Feature Activated: Voice Interface.
"Voice interface?" he said aloud, half to himself. The system responded, its voice faint and mechanical, as though it were speaking from a great distance.
"Correct. Certain functions may now be accessed verbally. Limited responses provided."
The voice sent a shiver down his spine, not for its tone, but for what it represented—an evolution of something he still didn’t fully understand. "Why now?" he asked, his voice steady despite the knot forming in his stomach.
"Insufficient data to respond," the system replied, and then it fell silent.
Ahri’s head turned sharply. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.
"Nothing," Jae-Hyun said quickly. "Just thinking out loud." He avoided her gaze, his attention returning to the system.
Jae-Hyun sat cross-legged on the forest floor, his fingers gliding over the newly upgraded system interface. The reboot had left him with more questions than answers, but he couldn't deny the allure of the new features. The voice interface was still unsettling, but it responded to his commands with a mechanical precision that hinted at its evolving complexity.
“System,” he said aloud, testing the feature, “show me new functions.”
The interface glimmered, responding with a list of additions:
New Features:
* Voice Query Access
* Advanced Inventory Management
* Expanded Shop Functionality
* Dynamic Quest Tracking
He raised a brow at the mention of the shop, selecting it from the list. The familiar layout materialized, but this time, there were several new items listed. One immediately caught his eye: Key of the Gilded Serpent’s Fang.
The description intrigued him:
Key of the Gilded Serpent’s Fang\
An artifact said to unlock forbidden paths. Its value lies not in its craftsmanship, but in the secrets it guards.
Cost: 1500 Points
Jae-Hyun hesitated, his gaze lingering on the key. There was no prompt from the system urging him to purchase it, no notification hinting at its importance. It was his choice alone, and that made the decision heavier. With a deep breath, he selected the item, the points deducted from his balance with a soft chime.
The key materialized in his inventory, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. As he held it in his hand, a strange pull resonated in his chest—a subtle tug that seemed to guide him deeper into the forest. The sensation was unsettling yet strangely compelling, like an invisible thread pulling at his very essence.
“Where are you going?” Ahri’s voice cut through his focus as he stood abruptly. She watched him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.
“Just... need to check something out. Stay here,” Jae-Hyun replied, his tone curt as he tucked the key into his pouch and started toward the edge of the clearing.
Ahri’s brow furrowed, and she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Like hell I’m staying here. Whatever it is you’re doing, I'm going with you."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahri, I can handle this."
“And I’m not letting you handle it alone,” she shot back, her tone firm but balanced. Her determination remained unshaken. “You might not think you need help, but I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”
Jae-Hyun hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. Finally, he relented with a frustrated nod. “Fine. Just... stay close.”
She smirked faintly, adjusting her cloak. “Like I’d wander off.”
Together, they followed the unseen pull deeper into the forest. The air grew colder, the light dimmer, until they reached a secluded clearing. Jae-Hyun stopped abruptly, his hand reaching into his pouch to retrieve the key. The faint glow it emitted illuminated the area, but Ahri’s expression turned to confusion as she scanned the clearing.
“What are we stopping for?” she asked, her gaze darting around. “There’s nothing here.”
Jae-Hyun frowned, holding the key in his palm. Its glow intensified, but Ahri still showed no reaction to the massive door now visible before him—a structure etched with intricate serpentine patterns, its surface emanating a faint, otherworldly aura.
“You don’t see it, do you?” Jae-Hyun asked cautiously.
“See what?” Ahri replied, stepping closer with a furrowed brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jae-Hyun hesitated, glancing between the door and Ahri. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t see it, but an idea crossed his mind. Without a word, he reached out, gently taking her hand while still holding the key. The moment their hands connected, Ahri froze, her eyes widening as the door shimmered into view.
“What the—” she whispered, her voice trailing off. She took an involuntary step back, her gaze fixed on the massive structure. "That... wasn’t here a second ago. How is this possible?"
Jae-Hyun didn’t answer immediately, focusing instead on the door’s intricate carvings. He stepped forward, pulling Ahri along, and placed the key into the door’s center. A soft click echoed through the clearing as the runes on its surface flared brightly. With a low groan, the door creaked open, revealing an abyss of swirling shadows and faint, flickering light beyond.
Ahri’s grip on his hand tightened. "Are you seriously going in there?"
“Yes,” Jae-Hyun said simply, his voice resolute. He turned to face her, his gaze steady. "Stay close. Don’t let go."
Ahri nodded, her expression tense but composed. "I wasn’t planning to."
Together, they stepped through the threshold. The world twisted and shifted around them, a disorienting sensation that left Jae-Hyun momentarily breathless. He reached out instinctively, but the warmth of Ahri’s hand was gone. When he turned, the doorway had vanished, and he was alone.
“Ahri?” he called, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness. There was no response, only the faint hum of what looked like a labyrinth around him. His chest tightened, but before panic could take hold, a notification appeared in his vision:
Quest Activated: Find the Exit. Locate your missing companion.
Torchlight flared along the walls, revealing a labyrinth of intricate carvings and shifting shadows. The air was thick, the faint sound of grinding stone reverberating through the corridors. Jae-Hyun took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening as he stepped forward. "I’ll find you, Ahri," he muttered, his voice filled with determination.
The labyrinth fell silent. Then, from the shadows ahead, a low growl echoed, followed by the gleam of crimson eyes. Jae-Hyun tightened his grip on his blade. I’m not alone.
The maze awaited, and with it, the trials to come.
----------------------------------------
The air within the labyrinth pressed against Jae-Hyun like a damp shroud, stifling and unyielding. The flickering torchlight cast jagged shadows on the cold stone walls, their shifting forms almost alive, taunting him with each flicker. His grip on the blade tightened, its weight grounding him as his boots echoed softly against the floor—the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence.
Jae-Hyun moved with measured precision, his steps calculated, his focus sharper than the blade in his hand. The maze sprawled endlessly, its twisting corridors shifting subtly, as though the labyrinth itself conspired against him. He wasn’t just navigating; he was hunting.
It didn’t take long for the first of the labyrinth’s defenders to emerge. Stone sentinels, their massive forms grinding against the floor, rose from the shadows. Towering over Jae-Hyun, their jagged limbs swung through the air with surprising speed. Their faces were devoid of emotion, and yet their presence carried an air of judgment.
Jae-Hyun sidestepped the first strike, his blade flashing as he targeted a fracture in the sentinel’s form. The clash sent vibrations up his arm, but he didn’t falter. His movements were precise, exploiting every opening. As the sentinel fell, its core shattered into glowing fragments, and the system chimed:
Experience Gained.
Another sentinel loomed, its shadow consuming him as its massive arm came crashing down. Jae-Hyun ducked, the wind from the swing brushing his cheek, and carved his blade upward in a savage counter. The sentinel crumbled into rubble, lifeless once more.
He exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as the system updated:
Level Up: 20 → 21.
A faint glow enveloped him, warmth fleeting and almost unwelcome. His strength increased incrementally, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He needed more—more power, more clarity. There was no room for hesitation, no time for reflection.
----------------------------------------
The battles became more frequent as he delved deeper into the labyrinth. Maze hounds prowled the corridors, their skeletal forms glinting in the dim light. Their snarls echoed through the stone halls, a haunting chorus that sent a chill down Jae-Hyun’s spine. But he didn’t falter.
The first hound lunged, and he sidestepped, driving his blade through its exposed ribs. Another darted from his blind spot, its fangs snapping inches from his throat. A quick spin brought his sword down in a clean strike, ending the threat.
Experience Gained.
The grinding of stone signaled the arrival of wardstone guardians—bulkier, more imposing foes than the sentinels. One swung its massive mace, and Jae-Hyun barely evaded the blow. The wind from the strike was enough to stagger him, but he recovered quickly, aiming for the glowing runes etched on its chest. With a sharp strike, the guardian roared as its core shattered. The sound reverberated through the maze like a dying echo.
Level Up: 21 → 22.
New Title Unlocked: Enduring Resolve.
The system’s notification caught his attention, the description flashing briefly:
Enduring Resolve:
* Enhances stamina regeneration by 15%.
* Increases agility and precision in confined spaces.
The effect was immediate. His breathing steadied, and the fatigue in his limbs lessened. The suffocating atmosphere seemed slightly less overwhelming, though his determination remained unyielding.
Hours passed as the labyrinth’s corridors blurred into a monotonous cycle of battles and eerie silence. Monsters’ strength fluctuated, but none were beyond him. Each encounter fueled his drive to reach the end. Thoughts of Ahri surfaced occasionally, fleeting but persistent. She’s strong. She can handle herself. I have to trust that.
----------------------------------------
Finally, the corridor widened, the oppressive walls giving way to an expansive chamber. The air grew heavier, vibrating faintly with power. At the room’s center stood a pedestal adorned with two glowing orbs suspended in shimmering light. One pulsed a deep crimson, like a heartbeat, while the other glowed faintly, its hue reminiscent of twilight.
Ahri knelt between them, her form limp but visibly breathing. Jae-Hyun’s heart pounded as he approached, but his steps faltered when the system’s voice echoed:
Final Trial: Burden of the Savior.
His eyes widened, darting between the orbs and Ahri. “What kind of trial is this?” he muttered, his voice low but seething with frustration.
A faint figure materialized above the pedestal, its form shifting and translucent. The entity’s voice was calm but carried an unsettling edge. “The crimson orb represents your sister. The twilight orb represents the companion you’ve brought here. Only one can be chosen. The other… will be lost forever.”
Jae-Hyun’s grip on his blade tightened until his knuckles turned white. “This is a trick,” he growled. “My sister isn’t here. She can’t be.”
“She’s missed you terribly,” the figure said, its tone softening. The crimson orb flared, and Jae-Hyun’s breath caught as an image materialized beside it. His sister stood there, her eyes glistening with tears. “Brother,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why did you leave me? I’ve been waiting for you… We all have. Even Father has been looking for you.”
The words struck Jae-Hyun like a blow. Memories rushed in—his sister’s laughter on a summer afternoon, her small hand clutching his during storms. A fragment of warmth in a sea of regret. But then his thoughts darkened, clarity slicing through the illusion. Father? Looking for me? His grip on his blade tightened. “No,” he muttered, his voice hardening. “That’s not possible. He’d never look for me.”
The figure’s silence stretched, but the image of his sister remained, pleading. Jae-Hyun’s gaze shifted to Ahri, still unconscious but breathing steadily. Steeling himself, he reached for the twilight orb.
The entity’s presence flickered, its form shimmering as if satisfied. “You have chosen. Let the trial conclude.”
The crimson orb dimmed, its light fading into nothingness. The pedestal vanished, and Ahri stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Relief washed over Jae-Hyun, though his expression remained cold and resolute.
Ahri blinked slowly, confusion clouding her gaze. “What happened?” she asked, her voice faint. “I don’t… I don’t remember anything after the door.”
“Don't worry.” Jae-Hyun said, his tone clipped. He extended a hand to her. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Before they could move, the entity’s voice returned, calm and calculated. “You’re intriguing, mortal. What do you say I grant you the power you so desperately seek? All I ask in return is a favor, to be determined when the time comes.”
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of favor?”
“That is not for you to know,” the entity replied, its tone unwavering. “But rest assured, it will be within your means.”
Jae-Hyun’s grip tightened on his blade, his voice cold. “No. I don’t make deals blind.”
The entity’s form flickered, a hint of amusement in its voice. “Very well. That shall be your decision.”
System Notification: Main Quest Complete. Additional Quest Completed.
Reward Acquired: Eye of Truth – A relic that reveals deception when activated.
A faint glow materialized in Jae-Hyun’s hand, revealing a small, polished stone that radiated an otherworldly energy. He pocketed it silently, his resolve unshaken.
The air shifted as a doorway appeared at the chamber’s edge, carved from the same stone as the labyrinth’s walls. Beyond it lay a dimly lit corridor, promising freedom.
“Let’s go,” Jae-Hyun said, his tone firm. Ahri nodded, following him without question. Together, they stepped through the doorway, leaving the maze and its trials behind.