Chapter 17: Runic Anchor of the Left Path

The echo of Sir Galland's squad retreating down the right tunnel faded behind the dripping of subterranean water. The corridor Aria Highwind led felt tight and confining, the damp walls pressing in on Reziel, Ronan, and Kiana. Flickering lantern light danced across old carvings and scattered rubble. The tension in the air was almost tangible.

We've split again, Reziel thought, swallowing the dryness in his throat. Now we either succeed in disabling this left-hand anchor—or we fail, dooming the main assault on the gate.

He fought the persistent ache in his limbs, a lingering aftereffect of the Overlimit. The short staff Anora had given him served more as a crutch than a weapon. His usual swirl of System energy felt suppressed—too raw and drained to be fully tapped. If danger struck, he'd have to rely on steel and cunning first, not forbidden magic.

A faint purple luminescence pulsed along the corridor's low ceiling, a subtle glow that seemed to respond to their presence. Kiana, moving with catlike grace, studied the runic patterns etched into the rock. Her blade was drawn but pointed downward, ready to react.

"Looks like these runes guide power from somewhere deeper," she murmured, fingertips hovering over a spiral symbol. "Perhaps they feed into the anchor we're hunting."

Aria nodded. "We follow them to the source. Keep your eyes open for illusions or traps."

Ronan, a hulking knight with a dented breastplate, snorted in agreement. "We've seen what illusions can do. Let's not be caught off guard again."

Reziel managed a weak smile, remembering how illusions nearly broke their formation in the ravine. "Agreed. Let's be careful."

They crept onward, the corridor sloping gently downward. Fractured stone tiles revealed glimpses of older floors, hinting at multiple rebuilds across centuries. At times, the runic glow brightened, almost as though guiding them—into a trap or into the anchor they sought.

Before long, the passage opened into a broader area lined with shallow alcoves carved into the walls. Each alcove contained remains—human bones, ancient offerings, ragged cloth. A hush fell over the group.

"Burial chambers," Aria whispered, her eyes narrowing. "This fortress was once a temple—or a tomb. The cult must've repurposed it."

Ronan prodded a dusty skull with his boot, grimacing. "Lovely place for a final stand."

A faint breeze seemed to sigh through the alcoves. Reziel felt the hair on his arms prickle. He clutched the staff tighter. "Anyone else hear that?"

Kiana tilted her head. "Hear what?"

Reziel swallowed. "Whispers. Like… someone chanting behind the walls." The others stiffened, straining to listen. Moments later, a faint sibilant sound rose—a muffled hush that made the bones in the alcoves rattle softly.

Is it just illusions? Reziel wondered. Or something else?

Aria motioned them into a defensive formation. "Stay alert."

Suddenly, a swirl of pale motes drifted from the nearest alcove. They glowed with eerie violet light—like miniature Will-o'-the-Wisps. A disembodied moan echoed in the corridor. One wisp drifted closer, taking on the vaguest outline of a humanoid form before dissolving again into sparks.

Kiana flinched back, sword raised. "Spirits?"

Ronan's grip tightened on his mace. "Could be illusions. Or phantoms tied to the cult's necromancy."

Reziel's mind flashed to the scribbled notes they'd found earlier: references to "unsealing," "old gods," "ancestral worship." Perhaps these were echoes of sacrifices. A place so steeped in dark magic could hold lingering souls—or illusions of them.

Aria carefully advanced, spear angled. The wisps stirred, as if buffeted by her presence. "They don't seem aggressive," she said, voice taut. "Let's move. We can't get bogged down here."

They advanced swiftly through the alcoves. The occasional moan made Reziel's skin crawl, but none of the wisps attacked. Still, he stayed close to Aria, heart hammering at every flicker of violet.

The corridor narrowed again, twisting deeper beneath the fortress. A faint hum grew—soft at first, then gradually more distinct. Each footstep reverberated with the vibration of arcane power. The runes overhead now glowed more insistently, as though the structure itself pulsed with a heartbeat.

At last, the passage opened into a circular chamber. A ring of flickering braziers cast dancing shadows across the walls. In the center stood a squat, rune-engraved pillar about waist-high, crowned by a swirling sphere of violet light. Tendrils of energy snaked from the pillar to the walls, feeding the runic lines that disappeared into the corridor behind them.

"This must be it," Aria breathed. "The anchor that channels warding power to the main gate."

Kiana circled the pillar warily, keeping her distance. "Any sign of guards?"

Ronan scanned the perimeter. "No cultists waiting in ambush… which is suspicious."

Reziel's gaze locked on the swirling sphere. It reminded him of the illusions in the ravine—but more concentrated. He could practically feel the System stirring inside him, as if recognizing a kinship with this dark magic. We have to destroy or disrupt it, he thought, stepping forward. "We should be quick."

Aria nodded, turning to Reziel. "Think you can sense how to break it?"

He hesitated, wincing at the memory of his Overlimit fiasco. "Maybe. But I'm low on mana. I can try a simpler approach—like channeling a lesser Dark Pulse or applying Anora's crystal to break the flow."

Ronan raised his mace. "Or brute force, if you think that'll work."

Kiana frowned. "We should be cautious; brute force on a runic pillar might trigger a backlash."

Aria touched Reziel's shoulder. "We'll back you up. Do what you must."

Reziel inhaled, steeling himself. He retrieved the small crystal Anora had given him, clasping it in his palm. A faint warmth steadied his breathing. He stepped closer to the pillar, dark energy swirling around the staff in his other hand.

The anchor's sphere crackled, reacting to his presence. Translucent arcs of purple lightning danced around the pillar, as if testing him. Reziel closed his eyes, focusing on the crystal's gentle pulse rather than the System's usual hunger. Just a controlled discharge—no Overlimit this time.

He thrust the staff forward, channeling a modest Dark Pulse from his fingertips. The swirling sphere flared in retaliation, arcs of energy snapping back. A sharp crack resounded, and Reziel staggered. Aria darted in to steady him, while Kiana slashed at one of the arcs with her blade, dissipating the stray bolt.

The pillar's glow flickered. For a moment, it dimmed as if about to collapse. Then, with a sizzling hiss, it rebounded—violent streams of purple lightning lashing out.

"Shields!" Aria barked. Ronan and Kiana raised their arms, bracing the onslaught. Sparks whirled. Reziel grit his teeth, channeling another pulse. The second wave hammered the pillar harder, generating a shrill wail.

A spiderweb of cracks spread across the runic lines. The swirling sphere faltered, sputtering into smaller arcs. Finally, with a thunderous pop, the anchor's light imploded. Splinters of stone and magic scattered, stinging like hail.

Reziel collapsed to one knee, chest heaving. The pillar's remnants lay in a smoking crater, runes extinguished. It's done, he thought with a dizzy sense of triumph. We've broken the left anchor.

In the hush that followed, the chamber walls rattled. Loose gravel trickled down from the ceiling. The corridor behind them flared as the runic lines—suddenly deprived of anchor energy—sparked and died. The air felt heavier, as though the fortress's wards had just lost a crucial support beam.

Aria and Ronan helped Reziel stand. Kiana exhaled in relief, lowering her blade. "No immediate backlash, it seems."

But Reziel's stomach churned. Something felt off. He glimpsed a swirl of shadow in the corner of his vision. Another flicker of wisp-like forms, then they vanished. A sign the illusions are destabilizing?

Aria read his tension. "We should rejoin Galland. The faster we take out the right anchor, the sooner we can break that main gate."

"Agreed," Ronan said, scanning the chamber for any sign of leftover threats.

They hurried out, back through the corridor. The swirling runes overhead had vanished or gone dark, leaving them reliant on lanterns. Darkness pressed in, thick and silent. Yet the quiet felt ominous, as if something large and malevolent stirred below, aware of the sabotage.

Reziel led them back through the burial alcoves. The moaning wisps were gone, replaced by an eerie stillness. It made the place feel tomb-like again, an oppressive hush broken only by their footsteps.

At length, they reached the junction that forked to the main gate. Here, the air was still thick with the fortress's residual magic. Torchlight revealed the collapsed remains of small columns and the scuffs of footprints—knights and cultists both.

Aria paused, sweeping the corridor with her gaze. "We're back, but no sign of Galland's team." A faint frown marred her brow. "They should've finished the right anchor by now… or at least left a scout here."

Ronan gripped his mace. "Think they ran into trouble?"

Kiana swore under her breath. "No telling. We'd better check the gate to see if it's changed."

Reziel stiffened, recalling the swirling wards that had blocked the massive stone gate. "If Galland succeeded, the gate might have weakened. Let's see if we can break it from here."

They crept down the final passage, coming upon the wide antechamber from before. In the gloom, the huge stone gate loomed—its surface etched with wards. Now, however, half those runes flickered erratically or lay dark, suggesting the destruction of the left anchor had taken effect.

Yet the gate still held fast, arcs of violet lightning running along the top portion. A deep crack marred the stone, but not enough to breach it. So the right anchor must remain, Reziel deduced. Galland's team hasn't destroyed it yet, or they're having trouble.

Aria approached the gate, pressing a hand to the fractured surface. Sparks danced over her gauntlet, forcing her to jerk back. She hissed, shaking the numbness from her fingers. "Definitely still powered. We can't force it open alone."

Ronan exhaled. "We need Galland. We must assume they're delayed on their end."

Kiana paced, sword tapping the floor. "We can't just wait. They might be outnumbered—or ambushed."

An uneasy silence fell. They had two main options: hold position at the gate or retrace steps to find Galland's team. Aria weighed the situation, knuckles whitening on her spear.

Finally, she spoke in a hushed tone. "We can't open the gate alone. And if Galland's pinned, waiting here does nothing. We go after them, or at least try to find any survivors."

"But the cult could come from behind the gate," Kiana pointed out. "We'd leave it unguarded."

Reziel flexed his hand on the staff, mind racing. No perfect solutions. The fortress brimmed with dangers, and time was short. If the cult completed whatever lay beyond the gate, all their efforts might be for nothing.

Aria pursed her lips. "We'll leave Ronan to watch the gate. If it shows further weakening or cult activity, he can signal us with a flare. Kiana, Reziel, and I will backtrack toward the right-hand tunnels in search of Galland."

Ronan gave a gruff nod, though concern tinged his eyes. "Alright. Just don't get yourselves killed. If that gate breaks open from the inside, I'll do what I can to hold them back."

"Thank you," Aria said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be back soon."

Ronan set his shield against a broken pillar, bracing himself for guard duty. Kiana lifted a small lamp, its orange glow flickering on the damp walls. Reziel steadied his breathing, ignoring the fatigue dragging at his limbs. One more search mission. We can't lose Galland now.

With that, Aria, Kiana, and Reziel peeled away from the gate, heading down a side corridor that branched toward the right anchor's path. The fortress's labyrinth beckoned, every shadow potentially hiding cultists or wards. The stale air pressed down, carrying a ghostly echo of chanting from corridors unseen.

Aria led the way, spear in hand, determined to find her captain and finish this once and for all. Kiana flanked her, alert to any movement. Reziel followed, staff clutched, heart pounding with a mixture of dread and resolve. Galland must be out there. We just have to reach him in time.

Behind them, the half-shattered gate hummed ominously, a testament to how close—and yet how far—they were from the sealed sanctum. If the right anchor fell soon, the gate might open fully. Whether that opening spelled victory or unleashed an ancient horror still remained to be seen.

As they stepped into the gloom, the flicker of Aria's torchlight waned behind winding stone walls. For Reziel, every step was a gamble of will—enduring the System's drain, the fortress's lingering evil, and the harrowing knowledge that the final confrontation with the Circle of Twilight awaited just beyond this last barrier.