Chapter 7: Whispers of the Spire
Ryo Aelren sat on a creaking cot in Varnholt's cheapest inn, the iron sword from the goblin chieftain propped against the wall. His body ached from the Rift survey—bruises from the crystalline serpent's thrash, a shallow cut on his cheek from a stray shard. The ten silvers from the mission weighed heavy in his pouch, but heavier still was the System's chime: Memory Fragment Detected. Progress: 1/10. The words haunted him, as did the spire's runes, pulsing in his memory like a second heartbeat.
The inn's thin walls did little to muffle the clamor of drunken adventurers below, but Ryo's focus was inward. He summoned the Status Screen, its glow faint in the candlelight:
*Name: Ryo Aelren
Level: 0
Class: None
Stats:
Strength: 3
Agility: 5 (+15% in combat, Survival Instinct)
Endurance: 4
Mana: 0
Skills:
Survival Instinct (Passive): Boosts agility by 10-15% when threatened.
Basic Strike (Active): Increases single-target attack damage by 5%.
Danger Sense (Passive): Heightens awareness of imminent threats.
Weak Point Strike (Active): Increases damage to vital areas by 10%.
Experience: 70/100
Memory Fragments: 1/10*
Memory Fragments. The System hadn't explained, but the spire's runes had triggered it. They were older than the Rift, Calen had said—older than the System itself. Ryo's fingers traced the bandage on his shoulder, the goblin nest's scars still tender. The System was his edge, but it was also a mystery, and mysteries in Varnholt often came with teeth.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Danger Sense stayed quiet, but Ryo grabbed his sword anyway. "Who's there?"
"Calen," came the low reply. "Got a minute?"
Ryo opened the door, revealing the scarred swordsman. Calen's cloak was dusted with road grime, his longsword sheathed but ever-present. He leaned against the frame, his eyes scanning Ryo with that same unnerving clarity.
"You did good out there," Calen said. "Most would've frozen against that serpent. You didn't."
Ryo shrugged, setting the sword down. "Got lucky."
"Luck doesn't call a strike like that," Calen said, stepping inside. He closed the door, his voice dropping. "You're not Awakened, but you're not normal either. What's your deal, kid?"
Ryo's pulse quickened. Gav's suspicion had been hostile, but Calen's was different—curious, almost respectful. Still, the truth was too dangerous. "Just trying to survive," Ryo said, echoing his words to Gav. "Instinct, that's all."
Calen's scar twitched, but he didn't press. "Instinct's a start. But instinct alone won't keep you alive in the Rift. You need training. I can help."
Ryo blinked. "Why? You don't know me."
"I know potential," Calen said. "And I know the Rift. It's changing—more branches, stronger spawns. You've got a knack for surviving it. I'd rather see you honed than dead."
The offer hung in the air. Ryo's Danger Sense remained silent, but doubt gnawed at him. Training meant commitment, exposure. If Calen learned about the System, what then? Yet the memory of the serpent's fangs, the spire's runes, pushed him. He couldn't stay a porter forever.
"What's the catch?" Ryo asked.
Calen's lips curved. "No catch. Train with me, take my missions. You get stronger, I get a reliable blade. Deal?"
Ryo hesitated, then nodded. "Deal."
"Good. Meet me at the training yard, noon tomorrow. Bring that sword—it's rough, but it'll do." Calen turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing. Stay clear of the guild's upper ranks for now. They're sniffing around after that survey. Don't need their eyes on you."
Ryo frowned, but Calen was gone before he could ask more. The warning lingered, adding weight to the System's mysteries. He lay back, staring at the cracked ceiling. Training with Calen was a step forward, but the guild's attention—and the Memory Fragment—felt like steps into the unknown.
The next morning, Ryo spent a silver on a proper meal—bread, cheese, and smoked fish—his first real food in days. The rest he saved, eyeing the weapons stall in the market. A steel sword was still out of reach, but soon. He checked the job board, but nothing matched the survey's pay. Calen's training would have to be his focus.
The training yard was a dusty square behind the guild, ringed by wooden dummies and scarred targets. Calen waited, his sword drawn, practicing slow, deliberate forms. A few adventurers sparred nearby, but the yard was mostly empty.
"Early," Calen noted, sheathing his blade. "Good. Let's see what you've got."
Ryo drew his iron sword, its chipped edge catching the noon sun. Calen circled him, eyes sharp. "Attack me. Don't hold back."
Ryo lunged, Basic Strike guiding his swing. Calen parried effortlessly, his blade a blur. "Too slow," he said, stepping back. "Again. Aim for my shoulder."
Ryo tried Weak Point Strike, targeting the joint. Calen deflected, but his eyebrow rose. "Better. You're precise for a rookie. Where'd you learn that?"
"Fighting goblins," Ryo said, dodging a question. Calen's blade came again, a controlled strike. Ryo's Survival Instinct kicked in, boosting his agility. He sidestepped, countering with a clumsy swing. Calen blocked, but nodded.
"Instinct, huh?" Calen said, lowering his sword. "Fine. We'll work on form, speed. You've got the spark—now we make it a flame."
The training was grueling. Calen drilled Ryo on stances, parries, and footwork, correcting his grip and balance. By the end, Ryo's arms burned, but the System chimed:
Skill Proficiency Increased: Basic Strike. Damage bonus raised to 6%.
Experience gained: Level 0: 75/100.
Ryo hid his excitement. Training counted as progress. Calen noticed his pause. "Something on your mind?"
"Just… learning," Ryo said, wiping sweat from his brow.
Calen grunted. "Keep at it. Tomorrow, we'll add sparring. For now, rest."
Ryo returned to the inn, his body sore but his mind alight. Level 0: 75/100. So close to Level 1. But the Memory Fragment nagged at him. He focused on the System, willing it to explain. A faint image flickered—the spire's runes, pulsing. Then, a whisper, not the System's cold voice but something ancient: Seek the forgotten.
He jolted upright, heart racing. The inn was silent, but the words lingered. The Rift, the System, the spire—they were connected, and Ryo was caught in their web. As he drifted to sleep, the Rift's glow pulsed beyond his window, a beacon and a warning. Calen's training was a start, but the real battle was coming—and Ryo would be ready.
To be continued…