The Ruined Temple – A New Quest

The guild hall was as rowdy as ever, filled with adventurers swapping stories over cheap ale, haggling over bounties, and boasting about their latest exploits. But amidst the usual chaos, one conversation stood out.

"Another party didn't make it back."

Arlan and his group exchanged glances as they approached the quest board. A cluster of adventurers were gathered near the counter, voices hushed with a mix of fear and intrigue.

"The temple in the wildlands?" one adventurer asked.

"Aye," a grizzled swordsman grunted. "That place is a death trap. The first team vanished. The second barely made it out. They saw things. Frog-like humanoids with glowing eyes. Some kind of ancient magic. But the reward's big."

Tomas whistled. "Ancient magic, huh? That always ends well."

Beren grinned. "Sounds like a challenge."

Leila crossed her arms. "Sounds like a suicide mission."

Mira frowned. "We're still recovering. Do we really want to throw ourselves into another dungeon already?"

Before Arlan could answer, a pulse ran through him. Cold. Familiar. Wrong.

He inhaled sharply as his artifact burned against his skin, reacting to something in the air.

The Ruined Temple.

Why?

Arlan clenched his fists. He knew they had to go.

But how could he explain that?

Beren, of course, was the first to jump at the opportunity. "I say we take it. Sitting around won't make us stronger."

Tomas sighed. "I dunno, man. We just fought off bandits. I was kinda hoping for a break."

Leila smirked. "What, tired already?"

"Mentally, yes."

Mira studied Arlan. He was quiet. Too quiet.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Arlan hesitated. He couldn't tell them about the artifact. Not yet.

But if there was something down there, something connected to necromancy… he had to know.

"…Let's prepare first," he finally said. "Get better gear. Then we decide."

Beren grinned. "Fine by me. Let's go shopping."

Shopping for Battle

The town's market district was bustling with merchants selling everything from potions to weapons. Stalls lined the streets, adventurers haggling for better deals.

The group split up, each looking for something to strengthen their chances in the upcoming dungeon.

Leila's New Armor

Leila ran her fingers over the black leather armor, its surface smooth and reinforced with enchanted stitching. It was lightweight, flexible—perfect for an archer.

Tomas leaned against a stall post, watching with a lazy grin. "Looks good on you."

Leila smirked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Shows off your curves."

Leila elbowed him in the ribs. "Pervert."

Tomas coughed, rubbing his side. "Worth it."

Beren's New Axe

Beren finally found what he was looking for—a massive two-handed battle axe, its blade forged from blackened steel, runes etched into the edge.

The blacksmith chuckled as Beren tested the weight. "That there's called Stonebreaker. Enchanted to grow sharper the more blood it spills."

Beren grinned. "Now this… this is a real name for a weapon"

Tomas raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about Gerald!?"

Beren smirked. "Exactly."

Mira's New Staff

Mira examined the staff of polished obsidian, a fire crystal embedded in the head. She could feel the raw heat pulsing from it.

"It enhances flame spells," the merchant explained. "Gives them more destructive power"

Mira grinned. Control. Something she struggled with.

She took it anyway.

Tomas's New Sword

Tomas, naturally, was picky about his weapon.

It had to match Gerald.

After much debate, he settled on a sturdy longsword, its blade forged with reinforced silver, the hilt engraved with swirling designs.

He held it up proudly. "Alright. Gerald has a brother."

Leila sighed. "You're naming your sword?"

"Yes. Meet Henry."

Leila buried her face in her hands. "I regret everything."

Arlan's New Armor

Arlan browsed carefully, unsure of what suited him.

His old clothes were starting to feel ill-fitted. His class change had changed him—taller, stronger. He needed something that matched.

He found it at the back of a merchant's stall. A dark, high-collared armor, reinforced leather woven with shadow-thread. It was light, flexible, and naturally absorbed light.

Fitting.

He tried it on, adjusting the clasp at the collar.

"Looks good," Mira's voice came from beside him.

He turned—and realized she was standing very, very close.

She reached out, adjusting the coat's clasp. "Fits you better than your old one."

Arlan froze.

Mira's fingers brushed against his chest for just a second longer than necessary.

Arlan short-circuited.

"I—I mean—uh—" He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Thanks."

Mira smirked and nudged his arm. "You're hopeless."

Arlan, flustered, pretended to examine the price tag.

Mira & Arlan – A Confrontation

That evening, as the group returned to the inn, Mira pulled Arlan aside.

"Walk with me."

Arlan blinked. "Uh. Sure."

They strolled through the quieter streets, the distant hum of the marketplace fading behind them. The air was cool, crisp. Arlan felt uneasy.

Mira was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then—she spoke.

"You used necrotic magic."

Arlan stopped walking.

His heartbeat spiked. "What?"

Mira's expression was unreadable. "When you fought the bandits. Your magic—it wasn't just shadow. It was necrotic."

Arlan swallowed hard. "Mira, I—"

"I'm not stupid, Arlan."

He winced. She had never said his name like that before.

She wasn't angry. She wasn't accusing him.

She was worried.

Mira crossed her arms. "I don't care about the Holy Order. I don't care about whatever happened in Duskhaven. But I need to know—are you in control of it?"

Arlan clenched his fists.

Was he?

The way his artifact pulsed. The way his summons felt stronger than before. The whispers at the edge of his mind.

He wanted to say yes.

But that would be a lie.

"I…" He hesitated. "I don't know."

Mira frowned. "Then be honest with me. Are you—"

"Hey, lovebirds!" Tomas's voice cut through the air.

Arlan and Mira jumped apart.

Tomas, grinning, leaned against the inn door. "Are we doing the awkward tension thing again? Because I swear, I'm getting secondhand embarrassment."

Mira rolled her eyes. "Go die."

"Aw, is that any way to talk to your handsome party leader?"

Leila snorted. "Handsome?"

Beren muttered. "Debatable."

Tomas ignored them, waving a hand. "Come on. We're drinking tonight."

Arlan exhaled. Mira gave him one last look.

The conversation wasn't over.

But for now, it was postponed.