Chapter 12: Shattered Secrets

Evening shadows stretched across the narrow valley as Sir Galland and his knights made camp beneath a rocky overhang. The ground was uneven, sloping, but the partial shelter offered protection from the bitter wind. Torches and lanterns flickered in a makeshift ring around the wagons and horses, creating a small oasis of light in the desolate hills.

Reziel slid from his saddle with a muffled groan. After the skirmish in the tower, every muscle in his body felt bruised. Aria Highwind, spear clutched lightly in her hand, nodded for a nearby squire to take his horse.

At least we're stopping, Reziel thought. I'm not sure how much farther I could ride today.

The battered tower now lay an hour's ride behind them. A few knights had stayed behind to search for more clues and guard the site, but the main force pressed on until dusk forced a halt. Their plan was to get closer to the rumored fortress by morning, but the presence of cult lookouts meant they had to stay vigilant through the night.

With practiced efficiency, the knights set about establishing a defensive perimeter. Some positioned wooden stakes around the camp, others patrolled the perimeter with torches. The captured cultists—unconscious or subdued—were bound to a sturdy wagon wheel at the campsite's center, guarded by two alert knights. A low murmur rippled through the camp as everyone anticipated the upcoming interrogation.

Reziel found a relatively flat spot beside a boulder. He sank down, leaning back against the cool stone. The chill air stung his lungs, but the day's tension clung to him more than the cold. Aria soon joined him, removing a glove to flex her stiff fingers.

"Feels like every moment out here is borrowed time," she said quietly. "Knowing the cult could strike again."

He offered a wan smile. "I'm surprised they haven't yet." Then, grimly, "But that tower ambush won't be their last."

She nodded. "No. They'll defend their stronghold to the end."

They exchanged a look that spoke volumes about the danger ahead. Then, a knight approached, beckoning Aria. "Sir Galland requests you both—interrogation is about to begin."

Reziel's heart thumped. Time to see if we can pry open some of the cult's secrets.

In the heart of camp, someone had arranged crates and a small wooden bench under a lantern's glow—an improvised interrogation area. One cultist remained unconscious from his injuries in the watchtower battle, though a cleric tended him to prevent a fatal outcome. The other had regained enough sense to glare at the knights with unfettered malice.

He was a wiry man with pale skin etched by faint scars, possibly from old rituals. His wrists and ankles were shackled. Despite his weakened state, his eyes burned with zeal—he radiated that same fervor Reziel had seen in the garrison's prisoners.

Sir Galland stood at the table, arms folded. Aria, Reziel, and several knights formed a semicircle. One of them—a stern-faced woman named Knight-Lieutenant Rona—was known for her methodical interrogation skills.

"State your name and rank in the Circle of Twilight," Knight-Lieutenant Rona began, her tone flat and commanding.

The cultist laughed, a rasping sound. "You expect me to kneel and beg for mercy, knight? You have no idea of the power that stirs in these hills."

Galland's jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. "We know enough: you planned a ritual here, you ambushed our scouting party, and you possess knowledge about a sealed 'temple'—or fortress. Speak plainly, or face Luxaria's justice."

The cultist merely sneered. "Justice? Like you have the right to hoard magic while condemning us. The old gods judged differently."

Reziel leaned forward, ignoring the spike of pain in his ribs. "You're after the Forbidden System. You've tried to harness it, but it chose me instead. Where is your temple? And what do you hope to do there—unseal some ancient power?"

The cultist's gaze snapped to Reziel, his sneer twisting into something like hunger. "So you're the System's reluctant host. Pitiful. If you only knew the boon you squander."

Reziel's stomach churned. "Answer me. What's in that temple?"

A flicker of vicious delight lit the cultist's eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know? Perhaps you'll see for yourself, soon enough. If you survive."

Galland signaled Rona, who stepped forward, drawing a short blade from her belt. She held it in a non-threatening but clear display. "We can do this the painful way or the less painful way. If you cooperate, you'll live to see tomorrow. Refuse, and I'll let the clerics patch you up just so we can try again."

Reziel felt a shiver at Rona's matter-of-fact tone, but he realized that the knights might have no choice. The cult's fanatic resolve often required harsh tactics. Even then, torture might not break zealots.

The cultist's bravado faltered slightly. He licked dry lips. "Threaten me if you wish. I've endured worse in the circle's trials."

Knight-Lieutenant Rona's eyes narrowed. She turned to a squire. "Bring me the satchel with the mage-sight crystals."

Within moments, the squire returned with a small pouch. Rona produced a dull, palm-sized crystal that glowed faintly red when she held it near the cultist. "These detect malignant or high levels of certain arcane energies," she explained, as much for Reziel's benefit as for intimidation. "Let's see just how entrenched you are in your circle's dark arts."

A bead of sweat appeared on the cultist's temple. He muttered something under his breath. Instantly, the red glow in the crystal brightened, pulsing like a living heartbeat.

Rona's lips curled. "As I suspected. You're heavily tainted by negative mana. That means you're valuable to your leaders—laced with their spells and knowledge."

She moved closer, letting the crystal's flare illuminate the cultist's face. "Tell us about the temple. The fortress. The sealed sanctum. Everything. Or I'll force a confession through arcane means you won't survive intact."

The cultist swallowed. His bravado wavered, though defiance still danced in his eyes. "You think me afraid of death?"

Aria spoke up, her tone deadly calm. "We think you're afraid of failing your master—your precious circle. If you die here without fulfilling your role, that's a failure, right?"

A tense silence pressed down. The cultist stared at the flickering crystal, then at the ring of knights. Finally, he barked a laugh. "Fine. Listen well, knights. Our stronghold—our 'temple'—lies within an ancient catacomb deeper in these hills. An old fortress collapsed around it centuries ago. My comrades have spent years excavating the lower chambers. When it's fully unearthed, no mortal army will stop us."

Galland's eyes narrowed. "And the 'sealed sanctum' you plan to unseal—what is it? A tomb? A nexus of magic?"

The cultist's lips twitched. "A chamber from the age of gods, rumored to house artifacts of immeasurable power. Even the old scribe texts mention it. So yes, a tomb, a nexus, a cradle of divine magic—call it what you will. Once unleashed, it will remake this world."

Reziel clenched his fists. "And your circle wants to use that power to forcibly harness the Forbidden System?"

The cultist's focus flicked to him, sneering. "Of course. The System is but one piece of a grand puzzle. You're a mere stepping stone. If you had any sense, you'd join us—reclaim your rightful place among those chosen by destiny."

Join them… The words sent a surge of revulsion through Reziel, though a tiny, unsettling pang of curiosity stirred. No. I can't trust them—not after everything they've done.

Knight-Lieutenant Rona pressed the blade lightly to the cultist's collar, drawing a thin line of blood. "Where exactly in these hills is the catacomb entrance? How is it guarded?"

A strangled mix of fear and anger rippled across the cultist's face. "Southwest. Beyond a ravine flanked by jagged pillars of rock. Guards, wards, illusions. We rotate watchers. You won't get far before the entire circle descends on you."

Galland absorbed the information, glancing at Aria and Reziel. "The ravine with pillars of rock—must be two or three miles from that tower. We saw hints of a cliff there earlier."

"More than a hint," Aria said quietly. "One of our scouts mentioned a natural choke point to the southwest. We suspected a cave system. This lines up."

Rona withdrew the blade, exchanging looks with Galland. "Seems we have our path," she stated.

The cultist slumped, a smirk curling his lips. "You think knowledge alone will save you? Your doom is sealed the moment you breach that sanctum. The old powers do not show mercy."

Sir Galland squared his shoulders. "We'll see." To a nearby knight, he ordered, "Gag him and keep him under heavy guard. We'll decide later if he's worth dragging along or safer left behind with reinforcements."

As the knights moved to restrain the cultist again, Aria turned to Reziel. "Well, we have our heading—and more reason to act quickly. If the circle is close to unsealing that sanctum, we don't have time to waste."

He nodded, adrenaline surging. "Let's just hope the path is less guarded than he claims. Though I'm not holding my breath."

Galland faced them both. "We'll push deeper tomorrow. Tonight, double watches. No surprises."

As the interrogation concluded, the camp settled into an uneasy rhythm. The knights divided into rotating shifts; half stood guard at all times, scanning the dark hills for cult scouts or any sign of unnatural magic. The others, exhausted from the day's battles and travel, tried to snatch a few hours of rest.

Reziel sat near a small fire pit, a tin cup of warm broth cradled in his hands. He sipped quietly, replaying the cultist's ominous words about a catacomb fortress—an ancient tomb of godly power. Visions of runic corridors and swirling violet mana flickered in his mind's eye, spurred by the System's subtle thrum in his bloodstream.

What if that place holds the key to removing this power? Or… what if it only strengthens the System's hold on me?

Aria joined him, spear resting against her shoulder. She hadn't removed her armor except for the heavier plates on her arms. "You're lost in thought," she noted softly. "Anything you want to share?"

He forced a half-smile. "Just wondering if we're about to barge into something bigger than any of us realize."

She eyed him, understanding. "We probably are. But that's why we're doing this—so the rest of the kingdom doesn't suffer a fate they can't handle."

Her calm conviction steadied him. He took another sip of broth, the warmth easing the tension in his chest. "I appreciate that. Your confidence."

A flicker of a smile touched her lips. "We're in this together, remember?"

Before Reziel could respond, a sharp whistle came from the perimeter. Both of them tensed, hearts jumping. But it was only a guard signaling an all-clear after hearing a distant rockslide. Aria exhaled, releasing her grip on the spear.

They exchanged a glance—relief, tempered by awareness that trouble could erupt at any moment.

Eventually, Reziel retired to his small tent, exhaustion dragging at him. He lay on his bedroll, listening to the quiet shuffle of boots outside. The night air whistled through the stony overhang, a constant reminder that they were far from safety.

Sleep came in fits, disturbed by half-formed dreams of subterranean halls, robed silhouettes chanting in an echoing chamber. In one vision, he stood before a massive stone door etched with swirling runes. Behind it, darkness pulsed like a living heart. Was that the "sealed sanctum" the cultist spoke of…?

He woke at intervals, eyes darting around the cramped tent, the System's presence humming like a distant drumbeat. This has to end. One way or another, he thought each time, clinging to the chance that the rumored Ritual of Severance might await in those catacombs—if it existed at all.

Morning arrived with slate-gray skies and a damp fog that clung to every surface. Knights roused themselves slowly, rubbing sleep from their eyes, stoking the campfires back to life. Breakfast was a quick affair—hardtack, dried fruit, and lukewarm tea—before Sir Galland convened a final briefing.

Gathered by the largest fire, the knights listened as Galland tapped a rough map pinned to a crate. "Based on our prisoner's information, we'll approach from the north, bypassing the ravine's main choke point if possible. Scouts will check for wards or illusions. Once we find a safer path, we converge. Expect magical traps."

Aria, standing near Reziel, added, "We have to assume they're prepared. Our goal is to secure the upper levels and, if possible, destroy or disrupt any ritual site below ground."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the gathering. Despite the tension, there was a sense of unity. No one doubted the gravity of what lay ahead—a fortress or temple rumored to house ancient, sealed magic that could reshape the world.

Reziel adjusted his cloak, swallowing hard. The knowledge they'd gleaned from the cultist brought them closer to their objective, yet it also magnified the stakes. The Circle of Twilight wants to unseal something monstrous. And I'm caught in the middle.

As the knights broke off to pack up, Aria caught Reziel's eye. She dipped her head in a subtle nod, a silent reaffirmation of their alliance. He mustered a determined breath, ignoring the dull ache in his ribs and the lingering fatigue in his limbs.

No turning back now.

He mounted his horse alongside Aria, bracing for another day's ride into hostile territory. The dull morning light filtered through thick clouds, casting everything in a dim, gray pallor. Hooves stamped the rocky ground, wagons creaked, and swords clanked as the expedition set off once again.

In Reziel's peripheral vision, System text fluttered momentarily:

Potential Objective: Investigate Temple Ruins / Sealed Sanctum.

Warning: High Probability of Hostile Encounter.

Reward: Unknown (Possible System Evolution or Ritual of Severance clues).

He blinked, letting the words fade from mind. One step at a time, he told himself. I'll face whatever's in that fortress—and I won't let the System, or the cult, decide my fate.

With that resolve burning beneath his apprehension, Reziel urged his horse forward, following Sir Galland's lead. The knights formed a steady column, disappearing into the rolling fog. Ahead, the hills loomed in silent vigilance, concealing secrets that could either liberate Reziel from his forbidden power—or doom them all.