The world outside the hidden passage was a blur. Lee Sung moved through the bustling marketplace in a daze, the leather-bound journal clutched tightly in his hands.
Akane's final words echoed in his mind, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.
He needed to find a place to think — to breathe.
He ducked into a narrow side street, away from the crowds, and found a crumbling stone bench beneath a faded awning. His hands trembled slightly as he opened the journal, the old leather creaking as if it, too, bore the weight of ancient secrets.
The first page was filled with Akane's handwriting — swift, precise, and deliberate:
> *"Lee Sung, if you're reading this... it means I'm no longer by your side. I'm sorry. I should have told you everything from the start, but there was never enough time.
The artifact you carry is not just a key to survival — it is a beacon. It calls to forces both ancient and malevolent. The Trials are not a competition for power... they are a summoning ritual. Each blessing granted fuels a hidden purpose: the awakening of the Primordial Warden."*
Lee Sung's heart pounded.
The Primordial Warden? He had never heard of it — and yet, deep down, something about the name filled him with an instinctive dread.
He flipped to the next page.
> *"There are four tests left. Each one is more than a trial — they are seals. Seals that hold back something terrible beneath this world.
If the seals break completely... this realm, and maybe every other, will fall."*
Lee Sung closed his eyes, feeling the heavy weight of truth settle on his shoulders.
This wasn't about personal glory anymore. It was about survival — for everyone.
He skimmed further. Akane had mapped out the locations of the next tests, written notes about potential allies, enemies, and strategies. She had known how dangerous things were — and she had been preparing him all along.
His fists clenched.
Helios wasn't just a madman drunk on divine power.
He was part of something far worse.
A sudden commotion snapped him out of his thoughts.
Down the alley, figures were moving — fast and deliberate. Lee Sung instinctively slipped into the shadows, melting into the darkness like mist.
Three summoners moved into view, speaking in hushed, urgent tones.
Lee Sung recognized one of them instantly — Jin, the archer from earlier.
"...Helios said the next Seal's guardian is waking," Jin hissed. "If we don't get there first, he'll finish it himself — and then we're all screwed."
"Where's he going?" another voice demanded — Elara, the elemental mage.
Jin hesitated. "North. Through the Ashen Wastes. It's suicide to follow, but we don't have a choice. If Helios succeeds... nothing we know will survive."
Lee Sung's blood ran cold.
He was already behind.
And worse — Helios was moving to destroy the next Seal.
He had no time to grieve. No time to hesitate.
Steeling himself, Lee Sung tucked the journal into his cloak, his shadowy aura curling around him like a second skin. He would have to move fast — faster than Helios, smarter than Helios — and he would need every ounce of the necromantic power now at his command.
He turned north, toward the unknown dangers of the Ashen Wastes.
Toward the next test.
Toward vengeance.
Toward the truth.
And this time, he would not run.