Chapter 6: Path to the South

Aslam left the city of Eldria behind, his eyes absorbing the beauty around him. The gleaming towers and lush gardens seemed to dance in the sunlight—a sight that had always fascinated him. But as the city faded into the distance, a mix of nostalgia and excitement began to pulse within him.

"It's incredible how mana flows here. But it's time to remember what truly matters."

As he traveled, the trees became denser and the shadows deeper. The air grew cooler, and a sweet scent of magical herbs filled his nostrils. The plants in the southern regions, especially around Tirath, were unique—rich in medicinal and energetic properties, perfect for extracting mana and enhancing magic.

" These herbs have always been this region's strong point. What I wouldn't give for a good dose of Mana Heart right now." A playful smile crept onto his lips as he recalled the old days when he himself used to cultivate those plants.

As he neared the forests of Tirath, a sense of anticipation grew within him.

"This region has always been a treasure trove. If I can't grab the relic, then the herbs will have to do. I need to collect some to improve my mana circulation."

He thought about how many times he'd explored these areas, uncovering secrets and overcoming challenges. The path narrowed, and he paused to admire the rocky formations that surrounded the trail.

"It's fascinating how everything changes, yet stays the same. The magical creatures must have adapted too."

"If I remember correctly, they used to be just a nuisance, but for the humans back then, it could have been an unfair fight." A soft sigh escaped his lips as he organized his next moves mentally.

"The Smoldering Flower comes first, no doubt. It has always been a powerful resource, expanding the pores and allowing mana to flow like a flood."

"The body feels the change immediately. It's as if every cell is feeding on pure energy."

"This plant never failed to enhance my magical sensitivity, but it's not something to toy with. Balance is key in any magical art; if I don't control the flow, I could overload everything."

"Too much mana at once could turn even the most experienced into prisoners... and I'm no novice."

He knew that after the flower came Astragor.

"A twisted root, ugly as few things, but it's the only thing capable of balancing the damage the flower can cause. Without it, my body would burn from the excess mana."

"It acts like an anchor, stabilizing the energies flowing through me, ensuring I don't lose control. One without the other would be suicide, like trying to sail a storm without a rudder."

"This combination should give me more energy, more control. It might even be worth more than the relic I'm after."

As he continued, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the distance. He stopped, stretching his senses and realized he was not alone.

A group of figures walked along the dirt road towards the entrance of the ruins, chatting amongst themselves. his sharp senses observing them from the trees.

There were seven adventurers, all wearing cloaks and combat armor. Their conversations blended with the sounds of the forest, but he managed to catch enough fragments to understand they were also heading toward the relic in the ruins of Tirath.

"A true expedition." Aslam thought, keeping himself hidden in the shadows of the trees.

At the front, a sturdy man, clearly a warrior, carried a broad sword on his back. Beside him, a medium-sized woman with sharp eyes held a simple magic staff, her robes indicating she was a mage. Behind them, an agile archer moved with light steps, his expression constantly alert.

The other four members of the group included a female warrior in shining armor, a priestess with a sacred symbol hanging from her neck, a stealthy rogue, and a barbarian with long hair and a thick beard, who seemed more concerned with following the group than any danger ahead.

— It can't be a coincidence that someone else was sent to Tirath today — said the mage, twirling her staff thoughtfully.

— I heard rumors at the guild that something big is happening there. It can't be just another relic — responded the warrior, Caront, with a satisfied grin.

— That means the reward will be greater — he added.

— More risk, more gold. I'm in — said the archer, keeping a cautious eye on their surroundings.

The priestess walking behind them frowned.

— Don't underestimate these ruins, Caront. The last group that went to explore Tirath didn't return. If the relic is powerful, something else might be protecting it.

The archer, still alert, nodded.

— The last time a group ventured here, it wasn't just the monsters that attacked them. The ruins have a strange energy, a connection to something deeper.

Aslam stood still, absorbing their conversation.

"They're after the relic too." he thought.

He considered approaching them, maybe even offering a temporary alliance to explore the ruins. But something made him hesitate. He still needed to maintain a certain level of discretion. The fewer people knew his true identity and what he was after, the better.

Following his instincts, he ventured deeper into the dense forest, where the trees were taller and the sunlight barely penetrated the canopy. The atmosphere around him began to shift, becoming heavier and electric, as if mana was concentrating in a specific point.

He followed a winding path between the trees, guided by the intuition that told him he was nearing something significant. The chirping of birds and the whisper of the wind gradually faded, replaced by a deeper, more resonant sound. He paused for a moment, holding his breath to listen.

The sound of clashing blades, grunts of effort, and the reverberation of spells being cast echoed in the distance. The feeling that something was happening nearby urged him to move more quickly.

As he drew closer, the pulse of mana grew stronger, as if it were calling to him. He knew he was near the core of the power surrounding the relic. But there was another sensation—something that made him uneasy: the fight he was hearing seemed to be nearing its end.

Finally, he reached a small clearing that opened to a wider view. Before him, a group of three adventurers fought desperately against an imposing being—a guardian of the relic.

The guardian, a creature made of pure magical energy, looked more like a specter than a physical being, its shifting form constantly molding and changing as the adventurers' attacks hit it.

The guardian floated menacingly in the center of the clearing, its ethereal form emitting a shimmering and threatening light. Each of its movements was a demonstration of power and control, like a master dancer challenging its opponents.

Kellen, the black-haired swordsman, was tall and muscular, his gaze intense and determined. The armor he wore was marked from past battles, and his broad sword gleamed in the guardian's light.

"Damn!" Kellen exclaimed, frustration clear in his voice. "Why can't we even scratch this thing?"

Beside him, Melina, the red-haired woman, was on the verge of collapse. Her eyes, normally bright and full of life, were now dull with exhaustion. Sweat dripped down her pale face, and her leather clothes were worn and stained with dirt.

She struggled to keep her dagger raised, but the weakness in her arms was evident.

— We need a plan! — Melina shouted, her voice trembling. — We can't keep going like this! What are we even doing here?!

Lyra, the black-haired conjurer, was focused on casting a spell. Her eyes, filled with determination, glowed with the light of the mana she was trying to shape. She wore a blue robe that seemed almost ethereal, with ancient runes pulsing softly.

Her hands shook as she tried to conjure a powerful spell, but the bursts of light she cast dissipated upon hitting the guardian.

— I can't let them win! This is our only chance! — Lyra cried, worry tinging her voice.

Kellen glanced around, realizing the gravity of the situation. The entrance to the ruins was nearly a kilometer away. Desperation consumed him. If they couldn't make it back, they were dead, and no one would come to save them.

The guardian advanced, emanating a threatening glow. With a fluid movement, it launched an attack at Melina: a wave of pure energy hit her squarely, sending her flying through the air.

— Watch out! — Kellen shouted, but it was already too late.

Melina was thrown against a tree trunk, sliding to the ground, unconscious. The impact echoed through the clearing.

— No! — Lyra screamed, horror spreading across her face. Her eyes widened in shock.

Lyra, watching the scene, felt her own strength wane. The mana that once flowed through her hands now slipped away like water through her fingers. She tried to cast another spell, but the energy seemed to escape her, as though the forest itself was draining her power.

— Kellen, we need to leave! — Lyra shouted, her voice thick with urgency. — We don't stand a chance!

— Take Melina with you, I'll buy us some time to... — Kellen began, but suddenly, the guardian attacked again, this time with an even more powerful strike.

Kellen felt the air around him contract, a crushing pressure surrounding him. The guardian's pure energy surged toward him, and he tried to dodge.

The explosion of light was deafening. Kellen was thrown back, his vision growing blurry as he spun through the air.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, the world around him spinning like a carousel out of control.

— Kellen! — Lyra shouted, but her voice sounded distant, as if echoing through a tunnel. The world began to fade around him, colors blending into an indistinct blur.

Kellen looked at his friend, feeling reality crumble around him. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, as if tons of stone were pressing down on his shoulders.

Pain spread through his body, and a sense of helplessness took hold of him.

With one last effort, he tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness pulled him in. He blacked out, consciousness slipping away like a fleeting dream.

Lyra struggled to maintain focus, but the mana in her body was nearly depleted.

Each spell she cast drained her strength, and the shadows gathered around her, growing ever more oppressive.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather what little energy remained.

— I have to do this... for us — she whispered to herself, as she raised her hand, forming a magical circle in front of her chest.

But the light that emanated from it was weak and flickering, as if it were struggling to exist.

— Come on, come on! — she cried, her voice rising in desperation. — Just give me one more chance!

The guardian advanced, its massive form made of condensed mana, revealing itself through the faint glow of Lyra's magic.

She felt panic rising in her heart. The creature seemed impenetrable, her every attack no more than a breath against a storm.

— No... no... — Her voice trembled as she tried once more, but the mana continued to slip from her control, and the darkness slowly enveloped her.

The guardian drew closer, its empty, ravenous gaze fixed on her.

Lyra felt the pressure in her head intensify, the internal struggle becoming more and more difficult. A wave of weakness struck her, causing her to collapse.

— What is this? — she thought, terrified.