ch 38

Chapter 38: Whispers of the First Shepherd

The morning haze hung low over Greenrest, muting the colors of the village. Fog rolled lazily across the soil, hiding the roots and stones beneath, as if the very earth wanted to forget what it held beneath its surface.

Elric sat alone atop the wind-swept hill behind his house, a worn cloak wrapped around his shoulders and a bowl of stew resting untouched in his lap.

The mark was still in his mind—the spiral of thorns, the voice of the unknown shadow, and the words that wouldn't leave him:

"You are not the first Shepherd."

He poked the stew with a spoon.

"Of course I'm not the first," he muttered to himself. "Every class has a lineage. Heroes come and go. Shepherds too, I guess."

Still, it wasn't the existence of a previous Shepherd that bothered him—it was the tone in that voice. There was no pride in the message. No admiration. Only... warning.

Behind him, something heavy thudded the ground.

He didn't even turn.

"Morning, Rocky."

The massive beast settled beside him, warm breath fogging the air. The others followed quickly—Hiss slithered onto his shoulders with an affectionate hiss, and Melo curled around his legs like a cat made of forest.

They didn't speak—not with words. But Elric could feel it. A steady pulse of comfort. Solidarity.

He wasn't alone.

"System," Elric whispered. "Show me more about the First Shepherd."

[Error: Class History Access – Restricted]

Echo detected from forbidden memory fragment. Connecting fragment...

The fog shifted.

Elric's breath caught as the world tilted again, and suddenly—

He was standing in a place not his own.

A battlefield stretched beneath a bleeding sky. Craters smoldered. Great beasts—some familiar, others alien—lay broken and still. And at the center stood a lone figure.

A boy.

No older than ten.

He wore ragged clothes, his hair matted with dust and blood. His eyes were calm—but not empty. They held pain, understanding, and something deeper.

Resolve.

He raised a hand, and the sky split. Not with thunder—but obedience.

A leviathan broke through the clouds, wreathed in chains made of starlight. It landed behind him with a thunderous quake, bowing its colossal head.

The boy spoke one word:

"Rise."

And the dead did.

Elric staggered as the memory cut short.

He was back on the hill. Bowl spilled. Heart racing.

He had seen the First Shepherd.

Not a god. Not a demon.

Just a boy—like him.

Only far, far more terrifying.

Later that day, Elric visited the village archives.

He didn't expect much—mostly scrolls of trade logs, dusty legends, and badly drawn maps. But he hoped… maybe something survived.

"Ah," said Old Rena, the caretaker, squinting over her glasses. "You're that Shepherd boy."

"I prefer Elric."

"Well, Elric the Shepherd boy, we haven't had anyone with that class here in centuries. Records are thin. But…"

She pulled out a bundle of parchment tied with a red string.

"This was found after the last major quake. It's old. Possibly a copy of a copy. The ink's weird too. Smells like... ash."

Elric took the bundle carefully.

Inside, the writings were a mess of fractured language, old dialects, and sketched symbols. Most of it was unreadable—except one section at the bottom, hastily scribbled in modern script.

"The Shepherd who called the wild from death itself was not born of this world. He fell into it. Grew in it. And burned because of it."

"He did not tame the beasts. He listened to them."

"And in the end, he became one of them."

Elric stared at the words, heart pounding.

Not born of this world.

Just like him.

Back in the forest, near the old shrine to forgotten gods, Elric practiced.

He called each of his three companions—one by one—summoning not for battle, but for growth.

"Rocky," he said, patting the beast's shoulder. "Let's see if you can shape your shield better. Try bending it like a dome this time."

The rock beast growled lowly, earth shifting along his back like sliding plates. With a loud crack, he formed a half-shell of stone, wide enough to cover all of them.

"Not bad."

Hiss slithered around his legs, forming a spiral.

"Speed. I need you to glide tighter, make it harder to see you in tall grass."

The serpent shimmered and vanished into the grass, leaving no trail.

"Melo," Elric turned to the guardian vine beast. "You're my healer and my roots. Can you connect to the trees around you?"

Melo's vines extended into the ground—twisting, searching—and then the trees shifted ever so slightly, leaning closer.

Yes, the connection whispered.

Not control.

But communion.

Just as he liked it.

Meanwhile, the village stirred.

Whispers spread of odd sightings in the forest.

Animals migrating out of season.

Unseen growls beneath the floorboards.

And in the sky—flocks of birds that flew in spirals before dropping from the air, lifeless, as if their very souls had been drained.

Elric stood at the edge of the village square, watching the crowd form.

Mayor Bren, usually calm and half-asleep, stood in front of them with sweat beading down his face.

"We've requested help from the central regions," he said. "If this is another dungeon awakening, we can't handle it alone."

A few villagers nodded. Others murmured.

"But the summons could take weeks. Or longer."

"We won't survive weeks!" someone shouted.

"We need a dungeon clearer!"

"Do we even have one?"

All eyes turned—slowly—toward Elric.

He blinked.

"Why are you all looking at me?"

"You're a Shepherd," said one elder. "You walk with beasts. If the dungeon awakens… it might answer to you."

"I'm ten!"

"You're weirdly competent for ten," Riven added helpfully.

Elric groaned. "You're not helping."

Mayor Bren stepped forward. "Elric… we don't ask you to fight. But if you feel anything—anything else—you must tell us."

He nodded slowly. "I will."

But he already knew.

There was something more.

And it wasn't just a dungeon.

It was a city.

Buried.

Sleeping.

And now—beginning to dream again.

That night, he asked the System again.

"Tell me about the Echo Forge."

[Echo Forge: Active]

— Function: Summon constructs and ancient guardians from echoes of memory.

— Summoning Skill Unlocked: [Golem of the Grove – Dormant]

— Next Skill Unlock: 12% Bond Completion

Note: Echo Forge reacts strongly to dungeon anomalies.

Elric stared at the new skill.

A golem.

Not a beast.

Not born from nature or trained.

A construct—made from memory.

Another piece of the old Shepherd's path.

He whispered into the quiet room, his siblings asleep beside him.

"If you're watching me," he said to the unknown force beneath the earth, "then you know I'm not afraid."

The wind outside howled.

Something knocked against the shutters.

Melo stirred.

Hiss rose.

Rocky, ever still, growled softly.

Elric walked to the window.

Far in the woods, behind the swirling mist, a dozen small lights floated.

Eyes.

Watching.

Not yet attacking.

But close.