Between Power and Madness : The Shard's Curse.

Eris stepped into the vault, the chill biting into her skin. The air was thick with something unseen, something that made her breath hitch and her stomach tighten.

The place was vast, lined with collapsed shelves and frozen relics, but what unsettled her most was the sound.

It wasn't the usual stillness of an abandoned ruin. It was... weeping.

Soft. Endless. As if the vault itself mourned something long lost.

She clenched her fists.

Not my problem.

She was here for something. Anything that would make her stronger.

It wasn't hard to find.

At the vault's core, something pulsed.

A jagged fragment, floating just above a pedestal of ice, radiating a glow that flickered erratically—like a heartbeat out of rhythm.

The moment she saw it, her pulse quickened.

That's it.

She took a step forward—

And the temperature plunged.

The weeping grew louder.

No—closer.

Eris turned sharply.

Shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls, elongating, shifting. At first, they were just flickers—barely noticeable—then they took form.

Figures.

Men and women hunched over, hands trembling, faces twisted in despair. Their eyes all fixated on the shard.

Then, as one, they moved.

Not toward her—toward themselves.

The vault trembled as the past came to life.

Eris stood frozen as she watched the first scholar reach for the shard.

A brilliant mind, hands ink-stained from years of desperate study. He barely touched the fragment before his body convulsed—his own ideas turning against him. The frozen walls around him filled with sprawling equations, shifting faster than the eye could follow, until he drowned in his own knowledge.

The second owner—a battle-worn sorceress—held the shard longer. For a moment, she stood tall, eyes wide with inspiration. Then—screams.

Her hands twisted, forming gestures that summoned something terrible. She tried to stop—tried to undo whatever her mind had conjured—but the spell refused to release. The power she had gained had already taken root.

She collapsed, her own creations devouring her.

The third… Eris could barely comprehend what happened to the third.

A nobleman, perhaps. Dressed in ancient finery, his lips moved in fervent whispers as he cradled the shard close. His ideas came too fast, too violently—until his form unraveled, spiraling into jagged lines, turning into something unwritten.

Eris took a sharp step back.

The past was bleeding into the present.

A terrible truth settled into her bones.

They had all sought inspiration.

And it had destroyed them.

Her gaze snapped back to the shard. It pulsed hungrily.

Her hands itched.

She should leave it.

But…

What if she was different?

What if she could control it?

The moment the thought crossed her mind, the vault reacted.

The frozen ground fractured. The weeping turned to laughter—mocking.

The scholars' twisted echoes turned toward her.

"Another fool?" one rasped.

"Another vessel."

Eris moved.

She lunged forward, ignoring the freezing pain seeping into her limbs. The moment her fingers brushed the shard—

Everything collapsed.

Thoughts flooded her mind. Not her own.

Symbols, structures, blueprints for spells that didn't exist yet.

Her breath hitched. The power—it was working. Ideas surged through her veins, lighting up parts of her mind she hadn't even known were dormant.

But then—a warning.

The scholars screamed.

Eris gasped as something inside her fractured, her vision warping—

No. No. She had to control it.

The scholars had been consumed by their own creations.

But she wasn't them.

She was not here to be inspired.

She was here to take.

With sheer will, she forced the flood into order.

A single thought took shape in her mind—a seal, something to ground herself.

She carved it into existence.

And just like that—the vault went silent.

Eris collapsed to her knees, her fingers still wrapped around the shard.

The whispers were gone.

Only her breath remained.

A notification flickered into existence before her.

New Ability Gained: Creativity Surge

You have unlocked the ability to trigger a flood of inspiration.

Generates unique spells, formations, and strategies under pressure.

Overuse may cause overwhelming mental strain.

Her hands trembled.

She had won.

She stood, swallowing the last remnants of fear.

The shard's glow had dimmed. The vault was still.

She looked up at her system notifications which were counting...

There was still fourty minutes left. She should head for the chambers. One relic was enough.

She shouldn't be greedy.

Soon enough, she had traversed her way to the meeting point - the chamber.

The vault's oppressive weight lifted the moment she stepped into it. A stark contrast to where she had been—the suffocating cold, the whispers of lost minds—this place felt... still.

Silent, but not empty.

Shelves of ancient tomes stretched into the darkness, their spines coated in frost. Some were cracked and brittle, others bound in strange materials that shimmered faintly under the dim light.

Eris exhaled, watching the mist of her breath fade. Five minutes. That was how long she had before she went looking for Ash.

She should wait.

She should rest.

Instead, her fingers twitched.

Curiosity pulled her deeper.

She skimmed her fingertips along the frozen covers, glancing at faded titles. Some were in languages she recognized, others in twisted scripts that seemed to shift as she looked at them.

Knowledge. Untouched.

Why was this here?

Saria had thrown them into Eterna for training, but this place felt more than a battlefield. The books—this was preservation.

A scholar's collection? No. More than that.

An archive.

Eris paused before a towering shelf, her eyes tracing the titles. Magic theories. Battle techniques. Spell formations long forgotten.

She could spend years here.

She reached for a book—

And then, something stirred.

A glow.

Not from the shelves.

From deeper inside the chamber.

She turned, pulse quickening.

At the far end, half-buried in an icy coffin, a book pulsed with an unnatural glow. It wasn't just resting inside—it was sealed. Bound by thick layers of frost, as if something—someone—had deliberately trapped it.

Eris took a step forward.

Then another.

The book shuddered.

A voice—no, not a voice. A thought, pressed into existence.

"A path lost to time. A chain waiting to break. Will you shatter the boundary?"

Eris' breath caught.

A system message? No. This was something older. Something forgotten.

She stepped closer, the frost biting through her boots. The book's glow pulsed faster, as though recognizing her.

Her fingers hovered over the ice.

She shouldn't.

She should wait for Ash.

She should—

Crack.

The ice splintered.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Something was awakening.

The ice fractured, a spiderweb of cracks spreading across the coffin's surface.

Eris tensed, heart hammering. She hadn't even touched it yet—just her presence alone had been enough to stir whatever was inside.

Another crack. Then another.

The air turned heavy, thick with something ancient.

Then—

Shatter.

The coffin exploded outward in a burst of frost and energy. Eris threw up her arms, shielding herself as shards of ice clattered against the stone floor. The cold seeped into her bones, but beneath it, something warmer pulsed.

A soft glow.

The book lay open, untouched by time.

It wasn't bound in leather, nor did it resemble the brittle texts surrounding it. Its cover was smooth, almost liquid in texture, shifting between hues of deep silver and faint blue. Something about it felt alive.

Her system reacted. A flicker of text appeared before her.

You have discovered a Lost Archive: The Book of Neutral Magic.

Warning: This knowledge was sealed for a reason.

Eris swallowed. Sealed for a reason.

Her gaze flickered to the pages. Unlike other grimoires, which were filled with dense symbols or complex formations, this book's contents were... simple.

At first.

Just a single sentence, inked in flowing script:

Magic is neither given nor taken. It is shaped.

A strange pressure settled in her chest.

She turned the page.

More words emerged, forming as she read them.

There was once no division—no Inferior, no Neutral, no Divine. The world was shaped by will, not by rank. But when power became measured, so did its chains.

Eris' fingers tightened on the edges. The words didn't just feel historical.

They felt like a challenge.

A challenge to everything she had been told.

Inferior Magic was weak. Lesser. A burden to those born with it.

Neutral Magic was average. A support system for those Divine tier magi.

Yet this book—this forbidden knowledge—suggested otherwise.

It suggested a different hidden pathway that could change everything she ever knew.

A low hum filled the chamber.

Not sound—an idea.

The book wasn't just filled with words. It was a guide. A puzzle.

Eris exhaled sharply. Not now.

She was standing in the heart of an unstable ruin, with only minutes before she had to find Ash.

This book—whatever it must be incredibly dangerous. Such knowledge was not made for casual eyes but were key information weilded by the top brass.

As a royal, she understood this very well.

Still, something in her whispered: Take it.

Not just for power. Not just for knowledge.

Because if this book was right—if what it said was true—

Then everything about her magic could change. For the better.

The book fluttered shut.

A faint whisper followed.

Will you shatter the boundary?

Eris stretched out her hands to grab the book and it softly fell into her hands.

So what if it was sealed for a reason?

So what if she was wielding forbidden knowledge?

She needed its knowledge to exceed her limits.

She had entered this twisted game for power and she wasn't going to turn back now.

A soft chime followed soon after...

System Notification:

Time Remaining: 20 Minutes

The trial nears its end. Departure is mandatory. Make haste!!

Lost Archive Acquired: The Book of Neutral Magic This knowledge was sealed for a reason. Its contents defy existing magical hierarchy. Proceed with caution.

Eris startled. Twenty minutes. The trial was ending. But— Where was Ash?