As they drifted through the night, they saw a forgotten Cinder camp that seemed to be without a living soul.
They walked closer to it.
"Why is most of this world full of dead things?" Riven asked as they moved.
"It's because of the blight Spawn—always turning everything it touches," Veyla said, bending her head slightly.
As Riven walked, he noticed the movement of the Threads of Sorrow—the ability he got from the shard. He could see it clearly, and that meant someone was around.
"Shh, looks like it's not fully dead after all," he muttered softly, trying not to make any sounds.
"What do you mean?" Veyla asked, following him to crouch low.
"Just follow me and do not make any sudden sounds, so they don't notice us," he warned, lingering as he followed the Threads of Sorrow.
He reached the edge of a ridge and saw firelight from where they crouched.
"See? Someone's here," he said.
"How many, exactly?" she asked, trying to be cautious.
He counted the sorrow threads.
"They're six or seven, maybe," he answered.
"Not very much. Think we can take them?" she asked.
"Nahh, I'm going alone," he answered, moving closer to the ridge to get a better view.
"What do you mean you're going alone?" she asked, her brows furrowing.
"I meant what I said, Veyla. We're not sure what they are, and you can't regenerate like I do," he pressed, trying to keep her from danger.
She didn't press any further, just released a puff sound and turned her face away from him.
He scoffed and stared closer, noticing five tents, one broken watchtower, scattered fire pits glowing faintly through the ash haze. At first glance, it looked abandoned.
He muttered, still watching the threads, "It must be corrupted cinders."
"Then be careful, Mr. Regeneration," she said sarcastically.
He smirked, then jumped off the ridge, sliding down toward the camp.
He took measured steps toward the camp, making sure to follow the threads. As he came closer, the threads became clearer, and he could see them—all of them looked like they were rotten.
"Must be hard for you guys to stay alive," he said sympathetically.
He sauntered toward the first Cinder, who seemed to be talking to no one, exactly, before he noticed Riven was there. Riven had slit him across the chest at a diagonal angle.
"First down," he muttered, absorbing the remnants from the Cinder.
He walked up to the second one and slit his neck with his hands to avoid making any noise.
The other two near the campfire noticed him and ran toward him, confusingly, but Riven simply sidestepped past them, and they were both pouring out remnants as his after-slash opened their guts.
He followed the thread toward the remaining two, but their threads were thicker than the other four he just killed, and that meant they were going to be stronger.
He stumbled across one. He stood in the clearing, staring at the sky, even though there were no stars to look at.
Riven took his steps cautiously, but the Cinder noticed him and immediately drew his sword, causing Riven's heart to panic a bit before he settled.
"What are you here for?" Riven asked, pointing his sword at the Cinder, but the Cinder released no words—just stood there, taking his stance.
"Alright then," Riven muttered before dashing toward him in a blast of smoke.
The cinder slid below his strike and kicked him in the gut, causing him to stagger backward farther than he expected.
"A tough one, I see," he muttered, cleaning the blood off his lips.
The cinder circled him slowly, as if he were a long-forgotten swordsman from ancient times, who knew the sword like the back of his hand.
He dashed, and their steels clashed, sparks flying in the air as they both exchanged strikes.
It was tougher than Riven had expected—one man overpowering him. He had no choice but to activate the rune.
"Flare!" he shouted.
The rune released a bright light across his arm, causing him to move faster, but the swordsman could keep up with him.
"Who are you really?!" he questioned intently, because he fought better than even the knight.
The fight was taking longer than he'd expected, with the other thread heading closer toward where they fought.
"Shit! This's gonna be tougher if he comes here," he spat blood out of his mouth.
He took another stance.
"Time to end this quickly—sorry, brother," he said before blurring out.
The knight stared in every direction at once, parrying strikes from each angle—not a single one had hit him yet.
But to Riven's luck, one strike hit him straight in the gut, and the swordsman staggered back, clutching his side as he coughed out blood and remnants, which Riven absorbed.
With the additional remnants, he moved faster, and his accuracy was better than before. He struck him from every angle, not allowing him to recover until he slit off his head in one clean strike.
"Five down, one more to go," he said, landing on his knees.
Just as he landed, the sixth one came out. He held no weapons, but he stood confidently.
"I see you took them all out," he said.
That was the first time he'd seen a corrupted Cinder speak—he thought they'd lost their sense of thought after they absorbed too much Ash.
"Who are you?" he asked, standing up, holding his blade up firmly.
"I am a cinder that refuses to die, but you can call me your worst nightmare," he responded, walking softly toward Riven.
Riven stepped back to avoid any sudden movements.
"Then how are you able to think and speak despite absorbing too much remnants?"
"That's none of your concern, young one, because you won't live to tell anyone else," he said confidently.
That made Riven's spine tremble, and he'd never felt fear since he absorbed the rune.
"I wanna see you try then," Riven muttered confidently.
Riven dashed forward in a blur, but the man parried without even using a weapon. Riven skidded back, taking his stance again.
He took another sprint around him, looking for any openings, but to his surprise, there were so many openings.
"Must be a noob," he smirked.
He attacked at the opening, but what happened next shocked him.
A wave of energy, like fire, erupted from the ground, nearly burning Riven, but he dodged by a hair.
"You're a mage?" he asked in between breaths.
"I don't know myself, but why don't you find out?" the man responded, smiling more than he should.
Riven took a blur of movements, faster than he'd ever been before, but the man parried every attack, moving as fast as Riven.
"An assassin-class mage?" he said, remembering a certain title from the game. These guys were very dangerous to deal with, and they took a lot of HP before he damaged them.
At this point, he wished he never told Veyla to stay behind.
"Damn me."
"What's wrong?" the man laughed.
"Not going to kill me anymore?"
He didn't answer—only tried to find openings to end him, but it was all a trap to get him to come closer.
In a sudden blur, a silver light cut through the air, splitting the man in two.
"What?!" Riven gasped.
The man stared as his body split open right in front of him, and behind him Veyla.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, happiness brewing on his face.
She ran toward him.
"Are you alright? I noticed you weren't back yet and decided to come check it out."
"Yes, I'm fine," he answered, smiling.
"I probably shouldn't have asked you to stay back."
She smirked.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have."
But behind them, the man hadn't died yet—he was fixing himself while they were speaking, and soon he was no longer a man, but a monster with multiple limbs, fire pouring from his mouth, his heart was bare open with a green fluid flowed through his veins.
He had mutated and was heading for Veyla from behind.
Riven immediately noticed it and pushed her away, then jumped above, dodging the beast by a second.
Veyla gasped as she stared at him.
"He's supposed to be dead," she muttered.
Riven immediately noticed remnants leaking from the hole Veyla opened in his body and took the initiative of absorbing them from where he stood.
After a while of dodging and absorbing remnants, he took his stance.
"Let's see what this has to say about it."
He held the sword like a swordsman and then said a word he hadn't said before or didn't know existed:
"Ember Lash Requiem."
And in a flash, he vanished from where he stood, appearing above the beast and causing a shockwave as he moved, destroying the camp.
He landed in one swift move, splitting the beast into multiple pieces, not leaving a single cell alive—then he released a breath as he landed.
The move had taken away most of his energy, so he collapsed immediately afterward.
"Now, who didn't live to tell the tale," he muttered as his consciousness faded.