chapter 18.6

After confirming that no immediate threats remained, Alcard took slow, measured steps toward the hovering green prism. The eerie glow it emitted pulsed rhythmically, resembling the steady beat of a heart—almost as if the fragment possessed a consciousness of its own. The energy radiating from it was palpable, so dense that the very air around it seemed to ripple like a mirage, distorting the space between him and the artifact. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever encountered before, filling him with a mix of awe and deep unease.

His fingers unconsciously tightened around the hilt of his sword as he examined the fragment with wary eyes. This was no ordinary relic. If the ancient stories he had heard in hushed whispers held any truth, then this fragment was something that could tip the scales of power across the entire continent. He had seen men go to war for much less. If The Veil had already caught wind of its existence, there was no doubt they would stop at nothing to claim it.

"If this really is a fragment," he murmured under his breath, voice low but resolute, "then I have no choice but to ensure it never falls into the wrong hands."

Drawing a slow, steady breath, he raised his sword. He wasn't sure if destroying it was even possible, but leaving it here was out of the question. He had to at least try. With a firm grip and all the strength he could muster, he swung his blade in a powerful arc, aiming directly at the floating prism.

The moment the steel connected with the glowing surface, an explosion of pure energy erupted from the fragment, sending a violent shockwave through the chamber. A surge of blinding green light engulfed everything, and before Alcard could react, an invisible force hurled him backward with tremendous force. His body slammed against the cold stone wall with a sickening impact, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Damn it—!" he barely managed to grunt as pain shot through his back. His vision swam, and for a few moments, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He forced himself to steady his breathing, his body aching from the sheer force of the blast.

From outside the now-sealed chamber, frantic voices called out. "Alcard! What the hell is going on in there? Are you alright?" one of the outcasts shouted, his voice laced with concern.

Alcard exhaled sharply, trying to push aside the pain. "I'm fine!" he called back, though his voice was hoarse from the effort of staying upright. His eyes darted back to the fragment, which remained suspended in midair, completely unscathed. If anything, it now glowed even more steadily than before, its once erratic pulses now rhythmic and deliberate.

'So, you can't be destroyed that easily,' he thought grimly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 'That means I can't leave you here either.'

Steeling himself, he approached the fragment once more, but this time, he didn't attempt to strike it. Instead, he hesitantly extended his hand toward the crystalline surface, bracing himself for another potential backlash. The moment his fingertips made contact, something unexpected happened.

The mass of writhing roots that had once served as the fragment's pedestal began to shrink away, receding into the cracks of the stone floor as if submitting to his presence. The ambient pressure that had weighed down on the chamber lifted slightly, and the air that had been thick with energy began to stabilize. It was as if the fragment recognized him—or perhaps, it had been waiting for someone like him.

Alcard clenched his jaw as he curled his fingers around the cold, humming surface of the artifact, feeling a faint vibration beneath his touch. He didn't know what kind of power he had just claimed, but he knew one thing for certain: whatever this was, he couldn't allow anyone else to have it.

At that moment, the chamber rumbled ominously. The massive stone gate that had sealed itself earlier suddenly began to tremble, then slowly groaned open as if responding to the fragment's release. A thunderous echo filled the ruins as dust cascaded from the ceiling.

Within seconds, the outcasts rushed inside, weapons drawn, their eyes scanning for threats. One of them, a tall man with a scar across his cheek, ran up to Alcard. "What happened in here? We heard an explosion!" he demanded, his eyes darting around the chamber, searching for signs of danger.

Alcard knew he couldn't reveal the truth. If word got out that he had recovered a fragment—an object that The Veil and who knows how many others were searching for—then every major power in Middle Earth would hunt him down. Even his own allies might not resist the temptation of such a powerful artifact.

So, with a composed expression, he kept his voice level and convincing. "This place was protecting some kind of ancient mechanism. I tried to destroy it, but it triggered an energy discharge before deactivating itself. After that, the gate opened on its own."

The outcasts exchanged glances. The explanation was plausible, given the remnants of energy still lingering in the chamber. Seeing Alcard covered in dust and visibly exhausted only added credibility to his words.

After ensuring there were no other immediate dangers, Alcard issued the next order with a firm tone. "We're done here. Gather your gear—we're heading back to The Wall."

The team quickly moved to comply, retrieving their equipment and preparing for the long journey ahead. While they were occupied, Alcard subtly slipped the fragment into a reinforced leather pouch strapped to his belt, ensuring that no one noticed the precious object now in his possession.

As they departed from the ruins, the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting golden streaks across the rugged landscape. The sight should have been reassuring, but Alcard felt no sense of relief. Instead, a weight settled deep in his chest.

He had retrieved something that could alter the course of history. He had no idea how to wield its power, nor did he know what consequences came with possessing it. But one thing was clear—he had to keep this hidden, even from Oldman.

'How the hell am I supposed to report this?' he pondered, his thoughts racing. He needed to choose his words carefully. Oldman was no fool. If Alcard gave even the slightest hint that something was off, he would push for answers. And Alcard wasn't sure he was ready to give them.

As their horses carried them away from the ruins, the fragment pulsed faintly against his hip, as if whispering a secret only he could hear. He tightened his grip on the reins, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

This was no longer just a mission.

This was the beginning of something far greater, something that would change the fate of Middle Earth forever.

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