Ariella
Enoch Forest
Thornhill, Vankar Island
Northern Isles Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
November 15th 6414
I climbed down from my precarious perch atop the wrecked ceiling of the ritual chamber. The entire cave system lay in ruins—shattered rock, scorched earth, and broken pillars littered the ground like the bones of some slain giant. Somehow, Lil had brought it all down. I could feel her energy lingering in the air—raw, wild, unmistakably hers. She had done this.
As I picked my way through the rubble, Lil moved toward me. She extended a hand, her expression unreadable beneath the grime and sweat streaking her face. I hesitated for the briefest moment, torn between irritation and understanding. Part of me wanted to scold her for being reckless—what was she thinking, facing that thing alone?—and yet another part of me understood. She'd done what she had to do.
In the end, I took her hand, allowing her to steady me as I dropped the last few feet to the ruined floor.
"So…" Lil began, glancing around at the others. "Is anyone gonna tell me how you found me?"
Neil and Ben exchanged a glance—one of those silent conversations only close friends can have—then both of them looked toward me.
"It was Ella," Jen said, stepping forward. "She knew where to find you."
Lil's gaze shifted to me, sharp and searching. "Is that so?"
I felt her eyes on me, waiting for an explanation. But what could I say? That I'd been seeing things since we moved into that cursed mansion? That visions—fragments of something bigger than me—had been haunting me? That I'd seen the Thornhill massacre before it happened, and this… this was just another thread in that unraveling tapestry? How was I supposed to say that without sounding mad? So I told them the truth
"Vision," I said quietly.
Lil considered that, then gave a small nod. "Hmm. Makes sense. You've always had that uncanny perception. Maybe with cultivation, a part of your Ability Factor is starting to manifest."
Before I could reply, Jen's voice cut in, tinged with frustration. "Still… what were you thinking, going after that thing alone?"
Lil let out a sigh, rubbing the back of her head, looking for all the world like a child caught red-handed. There was a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and for a moment—just a moment—I didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. Angry that Jen was the one who could fluster her like that. Angry at myself for caring. No. I clenched my fists, forcing the thought away. Now's not the time for that. Focus. There were bigger things at play.
We took a moment—just a breath—to steady ourselves amid the wreckage. Dust hung thick in the air, shimmering in the fractured light that filtered through cracks in the broken ceiling. The air was heavy with the scent of burnt stone and ozone, the tang of raw magic lingering like the aftertaste of lightning. Faint sparks still crackled in the far corners of the chamber, reminders of the battle just ended.
Lil lowered her hand, that sheepish smile slipping from her lips as the reality of what had just unfolded settled like a weight upon us all.
"To be honest," she said, her voice quieter now, "I thought I could kill that thing fast. I didn't realize how strong it really was."
I studied her face, noting the tension in her jaw, the flicker of unease she couldn't quite hide. "That thing… that can't have been a Cambion, can it?"
"It wasn't," Neil said firmly before Lil could reply. His voice echoed faintly in the hollow space, edged with certainty. "Cambions are living beings—flesh and blood, like us. The only difference is what runs in their veins. Half-accursed, half-mortal. But that thing…"
"Was more than flesh," Jen finished, her voice low. "It was energy. A metaphysical living entity."
I frowned, curiosity pricking at me despite the fear that still coiled in my gut. "Metaphysical? What does that even mean?"
Ben glanced at Neil, voicing what I hadn't dared ask aloud. "Yeah… what's a metaphysical entity?"
Neil took a breath, his gaze distant, as if pulling knowledge from some dark corner of his mind. "A metaphysical being is a self-sustaining existence of pure principle, law, or conceptual will. It doesn't need a body. It doesn't rely on biology or any material form. It just is."
"Basically," Jen added, her tone grim, "it's a fragmented soul that gained autonomy. Something that broke free from death and made itself into... that."
A shiver ran down my spine.
"I wonder," Jen continued, eyes narrowing, "if it was a Cambion once. Before it became whatever the hell that was."
"None of that matters," Lil cut in, her voice sharper than before. She drew a steadying breath, then began to speak, and every word pulled us tighter into her orbit. "That thing—it's not done. It's planning to attack the town again. When I got here, I overheard it... talking. Not just to itself. To something else. I don't know what that thing was. But whatever it is…" She hesitated, just for a heartbeat. "I don't want to ever see it again."
The admission hit me harder than I expected.
Lil—Lil, who never flinched, never faltered—was afraid. She didn't say it outright, but I saw it in her eyes, heard it in the subtle tremor beneath her words. Whatever had been lurking here alongside the Cambion... it was beyond anything we'd faced before.
But what gripped me most was what she'd said about Thornhill. That it wanted to destroy the town. My heart raced. The visions—the warnings—I'd seen them for a reason. And now, all the pieces were beginning to fall into place.
I glanced around, my eyes sweeping over the wreckage of the ritual chamber. The place was little more than a graveyard of shattered stone and scorched earth, the stench of burnt magic still heavy in the air. But at the center—half-buried beneath a tangle of debris—something caught my eye. A faint glimmer, like silver threads woven into the stone itself, pulsing ever so faintly as if breathing with the ruin.
"Neil," I called, pointing toward the floor. My voice sounded strange to my own ears—hushed, reverent. "Look at that."
Neil stepped forward without hesitation, his boots crunching over broken fragments of rock and ash. He knelt, brushing aside the debris with gloved hands. As more of the pattern came into view, his brow furrowed. I watched as the color drained from his face, his confident air replaced by something far graver.
"Look at this…" he whispered, tracing a line of the circle with trembling fingertips. "These aren't modern runes. Not even close."
Jennifer, the cold aura of her Frost Calamity technique still clinging to her like a second skin, turned her head toward him. "What do you mean?" she asked, the sharpness in her tone barely masking her unease.
Neil straightened slightly, his gaze dark, shadowed. "This is pre-Long War magic," he said quietly. "The formula work, the structure—this predates the Age of Cultivation. It's older than anything we've ever found in Thornhill. Older than any Dungeon architecture we've cataloged in this entire region."
Lil stepped in beside him, her eyes narrowing as she studied the circle. "You're sure?" she asked, voice taut.
Neil nodded, swallowing hard. "Positive. These glyphs... they're fragments of an ancient weaving array. Not just for summoning. This is high-order work—binding, amplifying, pulling things across boundaries we're not meant to cross. And look at the design—this isn't an isolated piece. It's a node. A point in a larger network. A lattice of rituals meant to intersect across multiple leylines, multiple sites."
A chill crawled down my spine. I stared down at the pattern, the air above it shimmering faintly as if reality itself was struggling to mend the wound left behind. The circle's light had long since faded, but its presence lingered—wrong, unfinished, waiting.
"Whatever the Cambion was trying to do," I said slowly, the words heavy with dawning dread, "it wasn't just about Thornhill. This… this was just one piece of something bigger. A node in a web we haven't even begun to see."
Silence fell over us, the weight of the truth settling like ash upon the ruin. The air felt thicker now, heavy with secrets that had slumbered too long. And somewhere deep beneath our feet, I could feel it—the faint hum of ancient power, subtle yet insistent. Still alive. Still watching.
I drew a slow breath, trying to steady my racing heart, when something stirred at the edge of my vision. A stream of light wove itself together, strands of brilliance braiding and spiraling until they formed a figure—humanoid, radiant, standing right beside Lil.
"Interesting," the being said, its voice like a chord of music—notes layered in harmony, neither male nor female, but something beyond either.
"Lil…" I whispered, my gaze fixed on the figure of light. There was something surreal about it—alien and beautiful, like staring at the heart of a star. Lil turned to me, one brow arching at the look on my face.
"Ha… you can see me," the light-shaped being said, its tone laced with amusement, as if this revelation pleased it.
"What? Ella can see you?" Lil's voice sharpened in surprise, her gaze flicking between me and the unseen presence at her side.
"Uh… guys?" Neil's voice broke the moment. I could hear the confusion in it, the rising edge of concern. "What's going on?"
"There's… there's a being of light right next to Lil," I said, forcing the words out, as if speaking them made the vision more real. Jen and the others turned toward Lil, their eyes searching—but I could tell by their faces that they saw nothing.
"They can't see me unless I want them to," the light-being said, its voice softening, almost gentle. "But for some reason, you can. Another interesting thing…"
Its head tilted slightly, as if studying me—curious, unhurried. But then the tone changed, shadows flickering within the light. "But... I suggest you step away from this place. Before it's too late."
And then I felt it again—that hum beneath our feet, rising, vibrating through the shattered floor. This time, it wasn't subtle. The silver threads in the stone began to glow, a web of light spreading outward like veins of fire.
"Move!" I shouted, just as the ground erupted in a flash so blinding it swallowed everything.
****
When I opened my eyes, I was falling.
Falling through the sky, the wind howling past my ears, tearing at my clothes, ripping the breath from my lungs. The clouds parted around us like great gray curtains, revealing the endless expanse below—a dizzying, terrifying drop that made my stomach lurch.
The others were falling too. I caught glimpses of them between the rush of air and fragments of cloud. Neil's voice rang out in a raw, panicked scream, the sound torn from him as the wind swallowed his words. Jen's eyes were wide, her face pale with shock, arms flailing for balance. Ben twisted in midair, trying in vain to steady himself. The shock of what had happened had left me frozen at first—but now the fear hit me, sharp and cold: we were plummeting. Powerless. Doomed.
But Lil—Lil was different.
Where the rest of us thrashed against gravity's grip, she was composed, focused. Her arm flared with golden light, the radiance spiraling outward in intricate, living patterns. That same light coiled into tendrils—thin at first, then thickening, weaving through the air like strands of spun sunfire. The construct of light—the being I'd seen—manifested again, its form shimmering with purpose. One tendril lashed out, linking to each of us, binding us together in a web of radiant energy.
And then, just as the ground seemed to rush up to meet us, space twisted.
Reality folded in on itself, the world bending like a reflection on shattered glass. The light dragged us down, down—not toward earth, but into the darkness between worlds.
Everything blinked out.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on solid ground—stone beneath my hands, the air thick with the scent of old magic and warm metal. I was back in the arcane forge lab, the same place where Lil had first awakened. The chamber's great stone walls hummed softly with contained power, the glow of runes pulsing in the dark like the heartbeat of the space itself.
Lil knelt over me, her arms extended to pull me up. Her face was tight with concentration, but her eyes softened when they met mine.
The others were already on their feet, shaken but alive, scattered throughout the forge lab. They moved cautiously, their gazes darting over the strange constructs, half-assembled artifacts, and ancient tools that littered the space.
"What... what happened?" I croaked, my voice hoarse.
Lil helped me stand, then stepped back, the golden glow fading from her arm. "Aeternum warped us here. To safety."
I blinked, still trying to steady myself. "Forge lab…? Aeternum? You mean… that light construct?"
Lil nodded. "Aeternum is the Codex. The one I bonded with. The construct you saw—that's just its projection, its will given form. Aeternum's vessel contains a pocket space. This forge lab… it's part of that space. Part of it."
The forge lab seemed to pulse at her words, the walls humming louder for a moment, as if the place recognized its own name.
And I realized—we weren't just in some ruin.
We were inside the heart of a living artifact. And we had no idea what else it held.
I steadied my breath, my heart still racing as I took in the forge lab properly. The space was vast—larger than I remembered, or perhaps it simply felt that way now. Shadows clung to the high, vaulted ceiling where giant chains hung like the ribs of some ancient beast. The air was thick with the scent of iron, oil, and something older—something arcane. The heat of the forge hadn't faded entirely; warmth radiated from the walls, as if the stone itself had once been molten and still remembered the fire.
Flickering blue runes were etched across the chamber's surfaces, tracing pathways along the floor, walls, and the massive central forge. They pulsed softly, as if breathing, casting dim light that danced over piles of half-finished weapons and fractured armor. Tools of strange design littered workbenches—tongs too large for any mortal hand, hammers inscribed with glyphs that shimmered faintly in the gloom.
Jen ran her fingers along the edge of an anvil, her brow furrowed in thought. "This place... it's not just a forge. It's like a sanctum. A vault for forgotten crafts."
"More than that," Neil murmured, crouching beside one of the workbenches. He picked up a shard of crystal fused with metal, turning it in the light. "These materials... they're not from this world. I've seen fragments like this in old Dominion records. This is Starsteel. And this…" He gestured to a tangle of wires braided with runes. "That's magitech. But the kind lost before the Long War."
Ben moved toward the central forge, peering into the cold heart of it. The forge mouth yawned open like a silent maw, the metal dark but etched with deep, spiraling engravings that hummed with buried power. He hesitated at its edge, then stepped back, uneasy.
Lil remained silent, her eyes scanning the space, her fingers brushing against a column where a cluster of runes flickered brighter at her touch. The entire room seemed to react subtly to her presence—as if Aeternum recognized its bearer.
"We shouldn't linger," Lil said at last, her voice low, wary. "Aeternum brought us here because that ritual site… it didn't just collapse. It teleported us deeper. According to Aeternum's scans, we're back inside the Dungeon."
I felt a cold weight settle in my chest. Back inside? After everything we'd just survived?
"How does it know?" Jen asked, glancing uneasily around the chamber, as if expecting the Dungeon walls to shift and swallow us at any moment.
"Aeternum's sensory ability is high level," Lil replied, her eyes distant, as though listening to something we couldn't hear. "And it's been sealed inside the Dungeon for centuries. It knows the energy signature here—the ambient mana, the residue of the leylines. It recognizes this place like you'd recognize your own home's scent."
Neil exhaled slowly, piecing it together. "So… if it hadn't pulled us here, we would've fallen to our deaths."
Lil's lips quirked faintly—not quite a smile. "Well… some of us might have."
Her gaze rested on Neil, the faintest glint of amusement behind the seriousness. I followed her reasoning, the truth clicking into place. Neil was human—Ascendant, yes—but only at the low-level Awakened stage. A fall from thousands of feet would have killed him outright.
I thought of myself. A Royal-blood Vampire. The impact would have shattered every bone in my body, ripped me open—but I would have healed. It would have been agony, but not death. Ben, with his Lycan resilience, would've fared better than Neil, his body built to endure. Jen… Jen was Grandmaster realm. Semi-immortal, her body a fortress of tempered soul and steel. And Lil? Lil was Lil—something more, something other. I doubted even the sky could break her.
Neil must've followed the same line of thought, because his expression softened. He glanced upward, as if addressing the unseen intelligence that had saved us. "Thank you, Aeternum."
A subtle hum filled the air, as if the forge itself stirred in response to Neil's words—as if it acknowledged the gratitude. The temperature seemed to rise ever so slightly, the runes etched into the walls pulsing once with faint light. Then, with a shimmer of radiant strands coalescing from the forge's glow, the light construct appeared. But this time… I wasn't the only one who could see it.
The others turned, eyes widening as the being took shape—a humanoid figure formed of woven light and energy, intricate patterns shifting like living glyphs across its form.
"It appears the Weaving Array's fail-safe was activated," Aeternum said, its voice harmonic, resonant, layered like a choir bound to a single will.
"Activated?" Lil echoed, her brow furrowing, the golden shimmer still lingering on her fingertips as if ready for another fight.
"Your battle destroyed the array's primary structure," Aeternum explained. "That destruction triggered the array's contingency function—to redirect the ritual energy into another node within its network. The Weaving Array is not a single spell, but part of a vast, interlinked system—designed not to fail outright, but to cascade, shifting its power and purpose along the leylines and nodes that bind it to this world's foundation."
Neil let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You sure know a lot about that magic circle."
Aeternum's form seemed to brighten, the patterns across its body shifting subtly. "That is because the formula—the fundamental structure of the Weaving Array—was created by my creator."
Neil blinked. "And who was your creator again?"
"Balthazar Morningstar," Aeternum answered, the name spoken with a weight that seemed to echo through the chamber itself.
Neil and I spoke at the same time, disbelief heavy in our voices. "The Balthazar Morningstar? No way…"
Neil turned sharply toward me, suspicion and curiosity mingling in his gaze. "How do you know about Balthazar? Not many outside the Arcanic circles even know his name."
I managed a small smile, despite the gravity of the moment. "Because of my love for history. Balthazar Morningstar wasn't just some ancient Arcanist lost to time. He was more than that. One of the fathers of cultivation. His theories, his inventions—his work shaped what we now call the Golden Age of Cultivation. He's the reason we even have structured cultivation arts today."
The words stirred memories of what I'd read in forgotten tomes and fragments of ancient records. The Golden Age of Cultivation—a time so distant it felt like myth. An era long before the Eternal Night drowned the world in darkness, before the Long War shattered empires, before the Crimson Plague reduced whole civilizations to war. Before even the discovery of the New World.
It was a time when magic, cultivation, and science moved as one. When the greatest minds—like Balthazar—dreamed not just of power, but of understanding the very laws of creation. And now, we were standing in the shadow of one of his unfinished legacies.
"Yes, that Balthazar," Aeternum confirmed, its voice resonant, layered with quiet gravity. "I was created during that age. Well… my main core was." The forge lab seemed to pulse faintly at its words, as if acknowledging some long-buried memory of its own.
Lil's eyes narrowed, sharp with purpose. "If you recognize the array, then you know what its purpose is, don't you?" she asked, stepping toward the construct's radiant form. "That Cambion—it spoke of razing the town. And if that thing's using the array to summon creatures, it makes sense. That's how it's bringing in the Demonic Beasts."
"You think it's using them to attack Thornhill?" Jen asked, voice tight, already bracing for the worst.
"We killed the rest of its comrades during the last we were in the Dungeon" Lil said, her gaze hard. "But I don't think it's done. That wasn't the main event."
Ben crossed his arms, frowning. "Then why hasn't it destroyed the town already? What's the point of all these attacks—killing a few people and retreating? Why not finish the job?"
Lil's jaw clenched. "I don't know. It's not like we can understand the twisted plans of Infernal creatures." Her eyes burned with resolve. "What I do know is this: I'm not going to wait around for it to finish whatever it's planning. I'm going after it—and I will kill it before it gets the chance." She swept her gaze over us, lingering on me longer than the others—a silent question, but also a warning. If I hesitated, if I doubted, she would leave me behind for my own safety. And that was something I wouldn't let happen.
"So," she said, her voice rising with challenge, "are you with me? Or should I leave you here while I hunt it down?"
Jen stepped forward, brows knit. "Do you even know where to find it?"
Lil smirked and pulled a small, intricate compass from her pocket. The needle glowed faintly, trembling as if it sensed something vast and malevolent. "I do now. A tracking relic—tuned to the Cambion's signature. Courtesy of Aeternum."
Neil eyed the compass, envy clear in his voice. "That Codex of yours sure is handy."
Lil grinned, her wild edge showing. "Jealous?"
"You have no idea," Neil said with a half-laugh, shaking his head.
"Alright, enough talk." Lil turned back to Aeternum. "Take us to the weapons chamber."
The space around us rippled, as if reality itself were folding inward. In a blink, the forge lab was gone, and we stood within a vast chamber lined with towering shelves and vaults. The air hummed with latent power. Weapons of every imaginable kind filled the space—swords, spears, bows, staves, relics, and armor, each crafted with care and charged with magic that made the air vibrate.
Lil walked straight to me, selecting a weapon from a blackstone rack. It was a black-gold bow, veined with fine threads of crimson that seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. She placed it in my hands, her fingers brushing mine. The bow felt alive—balanced, powerful, heavy with potential.
I looked at her, startled. "Lil, this…"
"That's one of the few legendary-grade weapons Aeternum has that isn't sealed," she said. "For some reason, most of the legendary gear is locked down tight. So we're limited to Sacred grade and below for now." She nodded toward a vault filled with gleaming Sacred weapons. Then she picked up a shortsword and handed it to me as well. I took it, feeling its weight, the craftsmanship flawless.
Jen examined her own gear as Aeternum's voice echoed through the chamber. "Your rapier and armor will suffice, Jen. Both Sacred grade, both well attuned to your fighting style. No need for replacement."
Jen nodded in silent agreement, her fingers brushing the hilt of her weapon.
Aeternum turned to Neil. "Your staff is Epic grade, but this will serve you better." A wand formed in its hand—sleek, silver, runes etched along its length—and floated toward Neil. "Sacred grade. It will amplify your spellwork and harmonize with your talent. Rare for an Ascendant mage to favor using wands or staves, but your proficiency with them suggests an innate gift."
Neil took it, his expression bright with wonder. "Thank you, O mighty one," he said, half-teasing, half-sincere. I couldn't help but smile. Neil might act flippant, but at heart, he was an academic through and through.
Aeternum regarded Ben next. "Your body is your greatest weapon, Lycan, but these will serve you well." A pair of gauntlets floated to Ben, crafted from dark steel with flexible bands of silver. "Enchanted to shift with your transformation. They'll endure your strength."
Ben grunted his thanks, slipping them on and flexing his fingers to test their fit.
Finally, Lil turned back to the shelves, selecting a blade—a slender katana with an eastern design. She drew it slowly, revealing a crystal-clear blade that shimmered with inner light, before she slid it back into its sheath.
Her gaze met ours, fierce and determined. "Let's go," she said.
And with that, the hunt began.