The chamber bristled with Caelari. Red nameplates glared at him from every corner of his vision.
Alistair didn’t hesitate.
[Velstrath’s Folding Dagger – Blink Cut]
He vanished in a flicker and reappeared behind the nearest warrior. The dagger punched between shoulder blades, sliding into the heart.
[Critical Hit!]
[Enemy Defeated – Caelari Boneblade – Level 19]
[EXP +40%]
The body dropped before the others even turned. Alistair was already moving.
The chamber exploded in noise, guttural shouts, bone-swords scraping from flesh, maces lifted high. Warriors rushed him, others fanning wide to circle. Even the white-clothed ones shouted, pointing, confusion writ across their faces.
Alistair lunged into the first wave.
[Blood Lash – Activated]
A crimson whip snapped across the room, latching onto a Clubbearer’s chest. The man screamed as he was yanked forward, stumbling right into Alistair’s blade.
Steel and bone clashed. Sparks rained.
[Damage Dealt: 44]
[Enemy Defeated – Caelari Clubbearer – Level 18]
[EXP +40%]
Another roared, swinging a bone-sword in a brutal overhead chop. Alistair ducked, dagger flashing up to slice across his gut. Black blood splattered.
But a second warrior caught him off guard, a mace crunching into his ribs.
[Damage Taken: 31]
[HP: 166 / 290]
Alistair hissed, staggering back, lungs burning.
“Fine,” he growled, eyes flashing. “My turn.”
He lunged forward, fangs bared.
[Blood Drain – Activated]
He slammed into the Boneblade, teeth sinking into his throat. Sun-hot blood gushed across his tongue, searing, filling him with strength.
[Healing Successful – 41 HP Restored]
[HP: 207 / 290]
[Buff Applied – Adrenal Surge (+2 Strength, +2 Speed)]
The Caelari screamed once before Alistair tore free, blood dripping from his mouth.
Another charged, bone-swords slashing wildly. Alistair flicked his wrist, shadows coiling.
[Dark Magic Spell – Oblivion Orb]
A sphere of condensed night streaked across the room, exploding in a burst of shadow.
[Damage Dealt: 30 + 15 over 6s]
Two warriors staggered in the blast radius, coughing blood, their wounds smoking. One dropped outright; the orb hissed and reformed, streaking into a second target before bursting again.
[Chain Kill Bonus Triggered]
[Enemies Defeated – Caelari x2]
The room was chaos now. Shouts in a language he didn’t understand echoed off the walls, bone-blades flashing, maces swinging. Alistair weaved through them, cloak trailing shadows, blades dripping fire and blood alike.
Still, they weren’t helpless. A sword scraped across his shoulder, leaving a hot line of pain. Another mace clipped his thigh, bruising deep.
[Damage Taken: 27]
[Damage Taken: 22]
[HP: 158 / 290]
His regeneration struggled to keep pace. But the thrill of the hunt was burning through him now, intoxicating.
Notifications stacked at the edge of his vision:
[Enemies Defeated – Caelari x6]
[EXP +40% each]
[Side Objective Progress – 11 / 20]
He spat blood onto the stones, eyes blazing.
“Come on then,” Alistair snarled, fangs bared as another wave closed in. “Let’s see how much you’ve got.”
The chamber answered with bone and fury.
Bone-swords clashed against Redcrystal, maces cracked stone, shadows roared and burned. Alistair was everywhere at once, blades flashing, cloak trailing in smoky arcs of shadow.
Foreign words stirred faintly in his blood.
“What is this monster?”
“Kill him!”
“What does he want from us?”
The words bled into his skull, but Alistair was too deep in the hunt to notice. To him, it was just noise.
He snapped his focus inward, pulse hammering.
[Tactical Flow – Activated]
Target: Alistair
For the next 90 seconds, his next skill burned brighter, sharper, deadlier.
“Alright,” he hissed, shadows boiling at his fingertips. “Let’s make this hurt.”
[Dark Magic Spell – Oblivion Orb]
A sphere of condensed night roared into existence, thrumming with amplified power. He hurled it into the largest knot of Caelari.
BOOM.
The blast ripped through the chamber, shadow fire consuming a five-man cluster.
[Damage Dealt: 45 + 15 over 6s (Tactical Flow Bonus)]
[Chain Kill Bonus Triggered]
The orb reformed midair, bounced, then exploded again, hurling two more warriors into the walls in charred heaps.
Notifications cascaded:
[Enemies Defeated – Caelari x7]
[EXP +40% Each]
[Side Objective Progress – 18 / 20]
The Accord whispered louder through the chaos:
“He’ll kill us all!”
“Don’t let him through!”
“Protect the others...”
Alistair barely registered it. His blood was singing. His fangs itched.
He spun, Redcrystal sword flaring.
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[Imbued Strike – Activated]
Mana surged down the blade, turning it into a streak of crimson light. He slashed, the strike carving through armor and bone alike. A Caelari fell in two smoking halves, his blood boiling on the floor.
Another roared, sprinting at him, bone-swords raised. The ground beneath Alistair cracked with their impact. He hissed and dropped a quick spell.
[Frozen Step – Activated]
Ice crackled across the floor in a small radius under his boots, spreading outward like shattered glass. The charging Caelari slipped instantly, his footing gone, bone-swords clattering as his body hit the stone hard.
Alistair stepped forward on the frozen surface with perfect balance, dagger sinking into the man’s throat before he could rise.
The ice spread, catching two more mid-charge, their steps faltering, swings going wide. Alistair darted between them, blades rising and falling, clean and final.
Silence followed.
Only blood dripped in the aftermath, seeping into cracks between ancient stone. The chamber stank of smoke, copper, and charred flesh.
Alistair stood in the middle of it, chest heaving, his HP bar flickering higher from every drain and kill. His cloak dripped black and red in equal measure.
[Side Objective Progress – 29 / 20]
Reward Unlocked: Rare Healing Draught (Permanent +25 HP)
Something inside him pulsed again, faint but clear now, whispering beneath the silence:
“Why are you doing this…?”
Alistair wiped his dagger clean, dismissing the noise with a shake of his head.
“Right,” he muttered into the stillness, voice dry. “That’s that.”
The chamber remained quiet. No voices, no footsteps. Only blood dripping.
The silence didn’t last.
The system chimed again, notifications flooding his vision like applause.
[Level Up – 31 → 32 → 33]
+8 Attribute Points
+ 6 Agility
+4 Dexterity
Alistair exhaled, running a blood-slick hand down his face. “Two more levels? Yeah. Definitely farming these things.”
He dragged the points into place without hesitation:
+5 Willpower → 38,5
+3 Constitution → 49
+6 Agility → 118
+4 Dexterity → 85
[Attributes Updated]
Power hummed in his veins, strength and clarity hardening inside his chest. His body felt sharper, steadier, less brittle.
[Skill Level Up – Dual Wielding 14 → 15]
+7% Off-hand Damage, +28% Attack Speed
[Skill Level Up – Ice Magic 1 → 2]
+4% Spell Power, +6% Slow / Chill Effect
[Skill Level Up – Light Armor 12 → 13]
+13% Physical Damage Resistance, +6% Dodge Chance
He blinked away the messages, the afterimage of progress still glowing in his eyes.
The system chimed again, and a small pile of loot flickered into being amidst the carnage, a single glass vial glowing faintly red.
[Reward Acquired – Rare Healing Draught]
Effect: Permanently increases HP by +25.
Alistair crouched, picked it up, and popped the cork without hesitation. The liquid burned down his throat like molten iron before settling into his veins, his HP bar stretching upward.
He exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well. At least some good came out of that bloodbath.”
Then he looked down.
The room was a slaughterhouse. Dozens of Caelari bodies sprawled across the stones, bone-swords shattered, blood pooling in rivers. The air stank of iron, char, and fear.
Alistair’s brow furrowed. For a moment, the whispers from the fight replayed in his head.
“What is this monster?”
“Kill him!”
“Protect the others...”
He froze, lips tightening. Those hadn’t been garbled screams. Not just noise. Words.
He shook his head, heart thudding in his ears. “No. Just adrenaline. Frenzy. Doesn’t matter.”
A soft ping answered him.
[Treasure Seeker – Activated]
Treasure. A steady tug, pulling him deeper into the chamber.
Alistair dragged his gaze away from the carnage. “Yeah. Loot. Focus on loot. That, at least, doesn’t bleed when you stab it.”
He forced himself to scan the room properly. Despite the blood, the rubble, the ruin of the fight, the details stood out now.
This wasn’t just another hall.
The walls glimmered faintly with ward-lines, some cracked, others still glowing faintly blue. Benches and shattered tables were strewn with fragments of crystal, bits of metal etched with sigils, and empty glass containers. Runes flickered in places, some half-dead, others twitching like broken stars.
A laboratory.
He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was standing inside a magical lab.
At the center of the room, half-buried in the floor beneath blood and dust, was a massive disc.
Its surface gleamed with inset gems, runes carved in tight circles, and script so dense and alien that his eyes skated across it. Faint lines of power still pulsed within, like the heartbeat of a long-dead beast.
Alistair’s voice came out dry, hoarse. “Well. That doesn’t look ominous at all.”
The system pinged as Alistair stepped closer to the massive disc.
[Discovery: Genesis Disk]
Tier: Mythic (Extinct)
Status: Inactive / Anchored to Floor
Description: Forged by the Caelari, a race without skills or spells. Unable to evolve by natural means, they built this device to cheat the system. The Genesis Disk rewrote flesh and essence, granting traits and powers that no being was meant to wield.
Function: Permanent body augmentation, ability unlocking, and trait fusion.
Restriction: The primary Disk is anchored. Cannot be looted or moved.
Warning: Unauthorized interaction risks catastrophic genetic destabilization.
Lore: "What they could not become, they built. What they could not endure, they engineered. What they could not earn, they stole."
Alistair stared, lips parting. “Well. That explains the bone-swords.”
The weight of it pressed down on him. These people hadn’t been born monsters. They’d been made this way, scrambling to survive in a world that left them behind. The Arena hadn’t pulled demons from the void. It had dug up an extinct race and wound the clock back.
He tried anyway. Put both hands against the cold metal and shoved. His pouch pulsed at his hip, half-expecting a notification.
Nothing.
The Disk didn’t budge.
[Restriction: Anchored Object – Cannot be stored.]
He let out a sharp breath and stepped back, fangs grinding. “Of course. Gods dangle the mother of all treasures right in front of me, and I can’t even pocket it. Bastards.”
Time ticked in the corner of his vision. 1:03:00. The clock was bleeding him dry.
He began to scour the room, rifling through benches, shelves, shattered cases. Broken shards of crystal, scraps of etched metal, fragments of parchment that crumbled under his touch.
Finally something intact.
Two runes, faintly glowing, etched on thin, wafer-like stone plates. The system pulsed as he touched them.
[Item Acquired – Rune of Ironhide]
Effect: Fuses dermal tissue with metallic flakes.
Passive: Gain +12% natural armor (flat reduction vs. slashes and arrows).
Visual: In dim light, skin carries a faint bronze shimmer.
Drawback: Sensitivity dulled (?5% Dexterity).
“They could not craft armor fast enough, so they grew it under their own skin.”
[Item Acquired – Rune of Boneweave]
Effect: Reinforces skeleton with a lattice of living crystal.
Passive: Reduces all blunt damage by 15%.
Visual: When struck, faint veins of light glow along bones under the skin.
Drawback: Healing slowed (?10% natural regen).
“Their bones cracked too easily, so they taught them to sing instead of break.”
Alistair turned the runes over in his hands, frowning. They pulsed faintly, hungry to be used.
“Iron skin and crystal bones,” he muttered. “Yeah, nothing horrifying about that. Totally normal. Definitely not how people end up extinct.”
He slipped them into his pouch, chest tightening as the Treasure Seeker’s ping tugged him onward.
The clock was still ticking.
The Treasure Seeker pulsed behind him, tugging insistently toward the Genesis Disk.
Alistair slowed, turned back once, jaw tight. The ping throbbed like a heartbeat in his pouch, whispering of treasure he couldn’t claim.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Not today.”
He shoved the thought down and bolted, boots pounding against marble. The corridors stretched in every direction, twisting halls and towering doors. He ran without plan, every turn chosen on instinct, blood pounding in his ears.
Then a flare.
One of the bonds blazed inside him, bright and fierce.
Thess.
Alistair’s chest tightened. The last time the bonds had shifted like a compass gone drunk. This time he didn’t dare hesitate. He sprinted harder, shadows trailing, fear gnawing that she’d vanish again if he blinked.
But luck, for once, held.
He burst into a wide chamber lined with broken statues and cracked murals. The air stank of blood and smoke.
Thessaly stood in the middle of it, ringed by enemies. Half a dozen Caelari pressed in, bone-swords flashing, maces slamming against the cracked stone. Just as many already lay broken around her, bodies sprawled in pools of black blood.
And Thess...
Alistair slowed, smirk tugging at his lips despite himself.
“Oh,” he breathed, leaning against the doorway, blades ready. “She’s beautiful.”
Her fists were a blur, her hair whipped with each movement, her stance unshaken. For all the ruin around her, she looked like she belonged in the center of it, a storm in human shape.
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