Shadows in the Mist

The cultist had vanished, but their words remained.

Kaelen stood still, his sword glinting in the dim light as he listened for any sign of movement. The mist around him swirled unnaturally, as if whispering secrets meant only for the lost. His grip on the hilt tightened.

"Do not let them unsettle you," the system’s voice chimed in, its tone measured.

Kaelen exhaled through his nose. “They were trying to plant doubt.”

"And did they succeed?"

He didn’t answer immediately. The memories from the fragments, the echoes of Aeltharion’s past—they were not fabrications. He had seen the sorrow in her voice, the weight of her betrayal.

And yet, that did not change the present.

“No,” he finally said, sheathing his sword. “I’m not that easily swayed.”

The system remained silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"Good. Then we move forward."

Kaelen turned away from the ruins and started walking. Nightfall was approaching, and he needed to find shelter. He wasn’t in the mood to fight another corrupted being while his mind was still replaying the cultist’s words.

The terrain was rough, uneven with broken stones and dead roots snaking through the ground. This place had once been something—maybe a city, maybe a temple—but now it was nothing more than another scar on the world.

Then, in the distance, he saw it.

A faint light.

Not the eerie glow of corruption, but something steady. Controlled.

Kaelen narrowed his eyes and moved cautiously. If it was a settlement, he needed information. If it was a trap, he needed to be prepared.

The air grew heavier as he approached. He could hear faint voices now, low murmurs carried by the wind.

Then he saw them.

A group of people gathered around a fire, their faces weary but alert. Their armor was mismatched, their weapons worn but well-maintained.

Adventurers.

Kaelen relaxed slightly but didn’t drop his guard. He had encountered adventurers before—some were honorable, others no better than bandits.

One of them noticed him first. A man with sharp eyes and a scar across his jaw stood up, hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

"You lost?"

Kaelen stopped a few paces away. “No.”

The man studied him, then glanced at Kaelen’s sword. "You don't look like a merchant or a traveler. You’re armed, and not lightly."

Kaelen didn’t bother with lies. "I hunt corruption."

The group exchanged glances. A woman with silver hair and a bow slung across her back spoke next.

"A hunter, huh? We don’t see many solo ones around here. The mist isn’t kind to loners."

Kaelen stepped closer, letting the firelight illuminate his face. "I can handle myself."

The scarred man smirked. "That so? Then maybe you can help us."

Kaelen raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

The man’s smirk faded.

"A village disappeared. No signs of struggle. No bodies. Just… gone."

Kaelen frowned. He had seen villages overrun by corruption before, but this was different.

"And you think it’s related to the mist?"

The silver-haired woman nodded. "We scouted ahead. The corruption isn’t just spreading—it’s changing. Adapting."

Kaelen’s mind sharpened. If that was true, it meant the fallen god’s influence was growing stronger.

"Where?" he asked.

The scarred man gestured toward the darkness beyond the camp.

"Two hours west. But if you’re coming with us, you better be ready. We move at first light."

Kaelen met his gaze, then nodded.

"Then I’ll see you at dawn."

Kaelen’s Quote:

"Strength isn’t about fighting alone. It’s about knowing when to stand with others."

System’s Advice:

"Allies are tools or burdens depending on how you wield them. Choose wisely."

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