Chapter 33: Shadows of the Past
The seal shimmered as Arc wiped the blood off his brow, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in his bones. His body screamed for rest, but his mind refused to stop turning. What had just transpired in the ghost town wasn't just a random encounter—it was deliberate. Something or someone had kept that abomination locked away for centuries, waiting for the right moment to release it.
Arc's instincts whispered a chilling thought: This was no accident.
He glanced back at the trapped monster one last time. Even sealed, its eerie eyes bore into him, as though promising that it would return—and when it did, it would be stronger. The unsettling sense of unfinished business clung to Arc like a second skin.
He knew this battle was part of a larger puzzle. The scars of the past were alive in this town, buried beneath forgotten streets, and he had stumbled into a war older than himself.
A Brief Respite: Heal and Regroup
Arc limped back toward his temporary camp on the outskirts of town. The cool night breeze cut through the suffocating heat left behind by the battle. Every step ached, but each mile he covered gave him time to reflect. He needed supplies, information, and a clear direction.
Finding a quiet spot by the river, he stripped off his armor and checked his wounds. The gash on his side throbbed, and the bruises lining his arms would make even the simplest movements difficult tomorrow. But he had learned long ago how to keep pushing through pain.
He activated his status panel again, eager to see what kind of growth the fight had forced from him.
Status Update
Name: Arc
Race: High Human
Level: 42 → 47
Strength: 310
Agility: 297
Mana: 1200
Dexterity: 284
Perception Unlocked: 93
Skills:
Modern Weapon Master [Evolved: Apex Tier] (1/5)Close Combat Master [Evolved: Adaptable Tier] (1/5)Unknown Flame Seed (?????)
His stats had tripled. The difference in power was staggering. His mind reeled, realizing the sheer magnitude of the boost from this last encounter.
But it wasn't just his strength that had grown. His combat mastery had shifted into a whole new dimension—adaptive fighting. Now, in the heat of battle, his body would learn and evolve techniques in real-time. Every encounter would sharpen him further.
The Unknown Flame Seed lingered, its mystery haunting him. He could feel its energy stirring, as if waiting for the right moment to awaken. Something deep inside told him that whatever the Flame Seed was, it would either make him invincible—or consume him whole.
Supplies and Shadows
With his wounds bandaged and the worst of his exhaustion easing, Arc packed up his gear and made his way back toward the marketplace. The eerie quiet of the ghost town clung to him like a bad dream.
He needed supplies—food, ammunition, and something more critical: information. There were questions that gnawed at him. Why had the seal broken? Who had designed the monster—and for what purpose?
He knew Texas held some of the answers, but the journey ahead was long. And if the fight with the abomination had taught him anything, it was that he couldn't afford to be underprepared.
A Visit to the Market
The market sat on the fringes of the ghost town, a strange blend of abandoned stalls and lingering merchants who seemed more ghost than human. Arc moved silently, his sharp gaze scanning for anything useful. He filled his bag with canned food, protein bars, and bottles of water—basic necessities for the road ahead.
As he moved between stalls, Arc felt the weight of unseen eyes on him. There was always someone watching. In a place like this, secrets were currency, and Arc knew better than to ask too many questions.
He found what he needed—spare ammunition, a new combat knife, and a small device that scrambled tracking signals. In his line of work, invisibility wasn't a luxury. It was survival.
The Darkin Bank: Wealth in Shadows
After the market, Arc made his way to the Darkin Bank. It was the kind of place that existed beyond the reach of governments or organizations. No questions, no trace, and no loyalty to anything but the weight of gold.
The bank sat inside a crumbling building, hidden behind a false storefront. Arc slipped through the narrow alley, nodded to the guard at the door, and entered. Inside, the air was thick with quiet tension.
Arc approached the counter, where an elderly teller with eyes sharp as razors greeted him with a thin smile.
"Account number?" the teller asked without emotion.
Arc tapped a small code into the encrypted panel, and after a brief moment, his account details flashed on the screen.
His Wealth Unveiled
Balance: 9,879,000 credits
Arc blinked, feeling a moment of disbelief. He had more money than he remembered. It made sense—his parents had been generous donors in life, but they had also left him well-funded in death. He had rarely touched the inheritance, preferring to live simply, but now it was a different story.
He withdrew enough credits to cover his journey, then transferred a small fortune into the orphanage fund his parents had once supported. A silent tribute to the family he had lost.
"Safe travels," the teller murmured as Arc turned to leave. There was something unsettling in the old man's voice—a warning, or maybe a promise of things to come.
A New Mission Looms
With supplies in hand and his wealth secured, Arc stood outside the bank, staring into the horizon. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the deserted town. Texas awaited him—a place steeped in mystery and danger, where the boundaries between reality and nightmare blurred.
But he was no longer the same man who had started this journey. He was evolving with every step, every fight. And though the road ahead promised nothing but chaos, Arc felt ready.
The beast he had fought was just the beginning. There were more like it out there—sealed, forgotten, waiting to awaken.
But so was he. And this time, he wouldn't stop.
With one last look at the ghost town, Arc adjusted his gear and set off toward Texas. His body ached, his mind buzzed with questions, but deep within his soul, something burned—a relentless desire to evolve or perish.