The flames behind him were nothing but dying embers by the time Cassian reached the city's edge.
He didn't look back.
He couldn't afford to.
The city of Calvaren—the Empire's eastern capital—was a pit of vipers wrapped in gold. Nobles played their games in high towers, priests whispered lies from white temples, and soldiers crushed dissent beneath polished boots. To the common man, it was a city of endless cruelty. But to Cassian?
It was opportunity carved in stone.
He walked with his hood pulled low, cloak tattered, just another forgotten child in a city that had no memory for names. Beneath that cloak, however, Cassian's mind worked like a siege engine. Every step was calculated. Every turn a move on the board.
He had no connections.
No allies.
No identity.
But he had the System.
[Sovereign Path – Shadow Branch: Passive Perks Active]– Memory Retention (Photographic)– Enhanced Awareness– +5% to Success Chance of Deception-based Actions
And knowledge. The kind only someone who had lived it all before could possess.
Cassian turned into a narrow alley beside a shuttered inn. He crouched, unwrapped his pack, and laid out the stolen keys, a blood-stained cloak, and three valuable rings looted from the orphanage's secret vault. They would buy him his start.
But money wasn't his first goal.
Information was.
By nightfall, he sat inside the Broken Bell Tavern, a festering den on the city's south side, frequented by thieves, mercenaries, and lower-tier nobles looking for secrets in the dark.
Cassian chose a seat near the hearth, not too far from the bar. A server girl—barefoot, with a black eye—set down his drink and avoided his gaze. He said nothing. He watched.
Two tables over, a drunk merchant was boasting about a convoy heading north—unguarded due to a sudden tax hike on armed escorts.
Cassian filed that away.
Across the room, a mercenary captain leaned in, whispering to a cloaked figure about a noble's bastard child gone missing—rumors said it was no accident.
Another useful thread.
But the real prize entered just past midnight.
Dressed in fine travel leathers, a rapier at his hip and the mark of House Darenthal burned into his glove, the young man stood out like polished silver in a pit of ash.
Torian Darenthal.
Nineteen. Arrogant. Third son of a minor noble house. Cassian remembered him well. In the old timeline, Torian had stumbled upon a buried ruin in the northern marshes—a ruin filled with relics of the Old Empire. Artifacts lost to time. Power beyond comprehension.
It had made him a kingmaker.
Not this time.
Cassian watched as Torian ordered wine, scoffed at the barmaid, and complained about being sent on "a glorified errand by his piss-poor father." The ruin was less than a week from this moment in the original timeline. He would leave in two days.
Cassian had two days to get there first.
[New Quest Available: Seize the Forgotten Legacy]– Objective: Reach the Ruins of Malthor before Torian Darenthal– Reward: Hidden Sovereign Upgrade Token + Random Relic– Bonus: Optional Objective – Leave No Trace (+Stealth Skill)
He accepted.
Then he stood, dropped a single sovereign coin on the table, and left the Broken Bell without a word.
He moved quickly.
Within hours, he had traded the rings for a forged travel pass and a new identity: Kale—a courier boy registered under a minor trade guild.
The disguise gave him enough leeway to slip past the inner-city checkpoints without drawing attention. His destination: the northern swamps known as the Veilmoor—a place most feared and few returned from. It was perfect.
By the second night, he was deep within the woods.
Rain fell in sheets. Mosquitoes the size of coins buzzed through the thick, damp air. And the stench of rot clung to everything.
But Cassian pressed on, guided by memory, System-enhanced perception, and sheer will. He hadn't eaten in over a day. His limbs ached. His boots were soaked through. But he didn't stop.
He had died once already.
He would not crawl again.
[Perk Unlocked: Mental Fortitude I]– Effects: Reduces mental strain from fatigue, pain, and fear– Passive Bonus: +10% Focus during critical tasks
By dawn, he found it.
A hill, partially collapsed, surrounded by decaying trees and half-submerged stone. No paths led to it. No signs of civilization. Just forgotten history buried in the mud.
Cassian moved fast.
He cleared the vines, dug through the earth, uncovered the shattered marble doors of Malthor's Vault—a relic site from the First Era, untouched by Empire or priest.
And then he hesitated.
Something was wrong.
He crouched low, pressing his fingers into the soil. Fresh boot prints. At least three individuals. Small. Light. Skilled.
"Scouts."
His blood went cold.
Torian had changed his plans.
He was early.
Cassian drew his dagger, slipped behind a boulder, and watched.
Within minutes, three figures emerged from the mists. One carried a lantern. Another a sword. And the third…
Torian.
His smug face still unmistakable, even in the gloom.
"Dig there," Torian ordered. "If the map was right, the chamber lies beneath that ridge."
Cassian's mind raced. He didn't have time to wait them out. He couldn't risk letting them open the vault.
He needed a distraction.
[Inventory Check]– Stolen flask of lamp oil– Tinderbox– Rusted nails– Silver brooch (sharpened)
He grinned.
Within moments, he had circled around the hill. He doused a dry patch of brush with oil, lit the tinder, and vanished into the trees.
Flames erupted fast—Veilmoor was damp, but the hill was the driest spot in miles.
Torian's men panicked.
"What the hell—?!"
"The fire! It's circling—!"
"Protect the Lord!"
Cassian used the chaos. Slipped through the smoke. Made his way to the ridge while they scrambled to stamp out the blaze.
The entrance was exposed.
He drove his makeshift crowbar into the gap, heaved—
Stone gave way.
Dust and ancient air escaped the crypt with a gasp.
He slipped inside just as Torian shouted from behind, "There! Someone's—!"
The stone door slammed shut.
Inside, darkness.
And silence.
He lit a torch. The chamber before him was vast—pillars carved with forgotten script, walls lined with statues of kings long dead. In the center, a stone pedestal cradled a box of black metal, humming softly.
He approached.
No traps. No runes. Just silence.
The box opened at his touch.
Inside lay a sphere of shifting light—fluid, endless, alive.
[Artifact Detected: Seed of Dominion]– Ancient Imperial Relic– Status: Soul-Bound Upon Contact– Effect: ???– Compatibility: 100% with Host – Cassian Vale
He didn't hesitate.
He reached in.
The light surged into his palm, climbed up his arm like fire and ice. He screamed, fell to his knees—
[Sovereign System: UPGRADE IN PROGRESS…]– Core Awakening– Seed Accepted– Evolution Initiated
When he rose, the chamber was silent again.
But Cassian was not the same.
Power pulsed in his veins.
A presence stirred in the back of his mind. Not the System. Something older. Deeper.
And it knew his name.
Cassian turned toward the sealed door.
Outside, Torian still searched, still shouted orders.
Let him dig.
Let him suffer.
Cassian had already won.