The dawn bled gray and listless over Luminast's outskirts, the Veil's fractured light smeared across the sky like a poorly healed wound. Kael walked ahead of Aria, his boots crunching over frost-rimed cobblestones, the Godclimb's weight a constant reproach against his hip. Behind him, Aria's footsteps faltered, her breath shallow and uneven. She hadn't spoken since the cellar, but her silence screamed louder than any accusation.
They'd left the old woman's hovel hours ago, guided by a half-remembered map scrawled in the Godclimb's margins—a route to the Ashen Wellspring, a fabled font of purifying flame. Myth, most called it. But myths were all Kael had left.
A low groan shuddered through the earth. Kael froze, his hand darting to the dagger at his belt. The ground beneath them rippled, cobblestones buckling like the spine of a waking beast.
"Veilquake," Aria whispered, her voice frayed.
The air split.
A jagged tear ripped through reality itself, oozing black ichor that hissed and bubbled where it struck the stones. From the rift clambered a Fleshspawn—a grotesque amalgam of limbs and eyes, its body stitched together from the screaming faces of the damned.
"Hunger," it gurgled, mouths slavering.
Kael shoved Aria behind him. His veins ignited, the Bloodprice's embers flaring in his chest. He could feel the years clawing at his throat, demanding to be spent.
Five seconds. Five years.
"Don't—" Aria began, but he was already screaming the words.
"Bloodprice!"
The surge hit like a forge hammer. Molten power flooded his limbs, his vision sharpening to cruel clarity. The Fleshspawn lunged, but Kael was faster. He sidestepped, his dagger slashing upward. Black blood sprayed, sizzling where it struck his skin.
Four seconds.
The creature reeled, howling. Kael drove his blade into its central eye, twisting until the pupil burst. The Fleshspawn collapsed, twitching, its form dissolving into ash.
Three.
He turned, breath ragged, to find Aria staring at his hands. His veins pulsed crimson, the glow brighter now, hungrier. New sigils—jagged, glowing runes—had etched themselves into his forearm.
Sigils of Debt.
"How many?" she asked flatly.
"Two," he lied. The ledger never lied. Five sigils now marred his flesh. Five debts. Five steps closer to becoming a Huskstalker's prey.
A tremor shook the street. More rifts spiderwebbed through the air, disgorging twisted horrors.
"Run!" Kael grabbed Aria's wrist, pulling her into a narrow alley. Behind them, the Fleshspawns' wails crescendoed, a chorus of despair.
The alley spilled into a derelict plaza, its center dominated by a crumbling statue. Once, it had depicted a hero—a Bloodprice ascender, judging by the molten veins chiseled into the stone. Now, the figure's face was shattered, its pedestal defaced with red paint: MONSTER.
Aria sank onto the statue's base, her fingers trembling as she adjusted the bandages at her chest. The fissure's light had spread, branching across her collarbone like poisoned roots.
"We need water," she muttered.
Kael nodded, though his gaze snagged on the Godclimb. Tier III: Eclipse. The page promised dominion over primal forces—fire, gravity, sound—in exchange for decades. He snapped the book shut.
A laugh echoed from the shadows.
"A Bloodprice gambler and a rot-ridden saint. What a pair."
A man stepped into the light, his form flickering like a mirage. His eyes were voids, pupils replaced by swirling galaxies, and his skin bore the ashen pallor of a Veil-Less ascender. Letters—burned at the edges—dangled from a cord around his neck.
Burned letters.
"Veyis," the man said, bowing mockingly. "Alchemist, nihilist, and occasional savior. You've read my footnotes, I think." He tapped the Godclimb.
Kael stepped between him and Aria. "Stay back."
Veyis grinned, holding up a vial of swirling smoke. "Relax, martyr. I'm here to help. Sort of." He tossed the vial. It shattered at Kael's feet, releasing a plume of silver mist. The Veilquake's tremors stilled.
"Temporary fix," Veyis said. "The Veil's crumbling faster than the Church's lies. But you—" He circled Kael, eyeing his sigils. "You're accruing debt like a drunkard tabs at a brothel. Ten more sigils, and your shadow starts hunting you. Fun!"
Aria stood, swaying. "Do you know how to stop the rot?"
Veyis's smile faded. "Stop it? No. Delay it?" He produced a letter—crisp, unburned—from his coat. "Burn a memory. A big one. The void-energy could stall the corruption."
Kael's throat tightened. Burning letters. The Veil-Less path.
"No," Aria said. "He's lost enough."
"Ah, but you haven't." Veyis tilted his head. "Ever tasted void-clarity, girl? Burn your fear, and maybe you'll live to see next week."
Aria hesitated. Kael saw it—the flicker of hope. The desperation.
"Don't," he warned.
She met his gaze. "You don't get to choose for me."
Veyis chuckled. "There's the spirit! But first—" He pointed to the plaza's edge, where the air shimmered like heat haze. "Hungerborn incoming. Your debt's a dinner bell, Bloodprice."
The Veliwarden emerged from nothingness, its bone armor rattling, mask screaming.
Kael reached for the Bloodprice—
Aria snatched the letter from Veyis.
"No!" Kael roared.
She threw it into the statue's broken hands. Flames erupted, blue and cold. The letter curled to ash, and Aria's eyes widened—a memory dissolving.
The Veliwarden froze mid-stride, ensnared by tendrils of shadow.
Aria staggered. "I... I can't remember Mother's voice."
Veyis clapped. "Bravo! Now run, unless you want to meet the Thrice-Drowned King's pet."
He vanished, leaving them with the echo of his laughter.
Kael grabbed Aria's arm, pulling her into the maze of streets. Behind them, the Veliwarden's chains shattered the statue, its roar shaking the sky.
As they fled, Kael's sigils burned.
Five had become six.