Wraiths of the Crown

The air inside Svar Lok was colder than Veer expected.

Not the crisp cold of mountain winds or the chill of night in the desert—this was a deep cold, the kind that seemed to whisper as it touched your skin, curling around your bones, reminding you that this place had not been empty for all these centuries.

Veer held the torch high. The flame flickered uncertainly against the weight of the stillness.

Beside him, Agniya's boots crunched softly on old marble, now cracked and faded with time. The twin blades on her back glinted in the blue glow of crystal veins that lined the walls, like frozen lightning suspended in stone.

"What happened here?" she whispered.

Veer shook his head. "It wasn't just war. This was… abandonment."

Ahead, the city spread like the skeleton of a beast. Streets crumbled under their feet. Colonnades bent at unnatural angles. A massive archway once bearing the sigil of Svar Lok now stood split down the center—its carvings worn, but not erased.

They passed a row of statues, each one depicting a crowned figure, proud and unbending.

But as they walked by, Veer stopped.

Something was wrong.

"Their eyes…" he murmured.

Agniya turned back. Her gaze sharpened.

Each statue—ten in all—had hollow eyes, and in those hollows, faint flickers of blue fire began to glow.

> [System Alert: Guardian Protocol Activated]

[Trial Wraiths of the Crowned Ten Initiating]

[Warning: Spiritual Echo Combat Imminent]

The statues moved.

Stone cracked and fell like old bark as long-dead kings stepped from their pedestals. They wore shattered armor and cloaks made of ash, and in each of their gaunt hands, weapons materialized—ethereal and terrifying.

One stepped forward, his crown broken in half.

"Why do you tread upon our grave?" he asked, his voice like wind through a hollow crypt.

Veer steadied his grip on the torch, stepping between Agniya and the lead wraith. "We seek the truth of Svar Lok. We seek the future."

The crowned specter laughed, a sound that echoed too far for its volume.

"Then prove you are not merely thieves in the night. Only one who bears the weight of fate may pass."

The ten moved as one, forming a circle around them.

Agniya drew both her blades. "Looks like we're being tested again."

Veer nodded, and the system shimmered to life before his eyes:

> [Combat Trial: Spirit of the Crowned Ten]

[Objective: Survive. Endure. Speak the True Name.]

"True name?" Veer whispered.

"Figure it out fast," Agniya snapped, slashing at the nearest wraith. Her blade passed through its chest—but instead of dispersing, the spirit reformed with a shriek.

Veer dodged another, ducking low as a ghostly halberd cleaved the air above his head.

He needed a name.

But whose?

He scanned the surroundings. The statues had plaques—faded and illegible. The walls? No symbols remained. The broken arch?

His eyes caught a sigil—half-buried beneath dust and cracked stone. A serpent coiled around a sun.

Then it hit him.

A phrase from the shrine trial. The vision. The voice:

> "The crown will return to the one with no name."

What if the answer… was no name?

He shouted into the air. "There is no true king! That's why your city fell!"

The spirits stopped.

The blue fire in their eyes flickered uncertainly.

Then—

> [System Update: Spoken Truth Confirmed]

[You have Named the Fall: Crownless Truth]

[Trial Complete]

One by one, the spectral weapons vanished. The ghostly kings bowed their heads.

And then, like mist under the morning sun, they dissolved.

Only silence remained.

Agniya lowered her blades, panting. "You just outtalked ten ghost kings."

Veer smiled weakly. "I'm good at making things up."

"No," she said, gripping his shoulder. "That was memory. You knew."

> [System Reward: Crownless Sigil Acquired]

[Effect: Allows passage through sealed gates of the Inner Throne]

[Bonus: Word of Authority – One use]

Veer felt the weight of it settle into his chest. Not a physical object—but a symbol of recognition, of right.

Agniya looked at him sideways. "You're getting heavier with power, Veer."

He nodded. "Feels like it."

They moved deeper into the city, the sigil opening ancient paths as they walked. Doorways once shut burst into light. Hallways twisted open like blooming stone flowers. A great stairwell awaited them ahead, spiraling downward into what looked like the core of the earth itself.

As they descended, Veer felt the temperature change again—not cold now, but charged.

The walls shimmered with hidden life. Old words floated across their vision, etched in spiritual language:

> "He who seeks power must first carry silence."

"Only the forgotten may remember."

"Speak not above the bones of kings."

They passed a mural near the bottom.

It depicted a figure—not a man, not a god—wearing a cloak of feathers and holding a mirror in one hand and a sword in the other. Behind him, the city burned while he walked away, untouched.

And beneath it, words that pulsed with power:

> "The Seeker turned away from glory, for glory did not deserve him."

Veer reached out to touch the mural—when the system pulsed again.

> [New Objective: Seek the Chamber of Fractured Time]

[Warning: The Seeker has noticed your progress]

Agniya's face tightened. "He's watching."

"Let him," Veer said. "This is our story now."

They turned the final corner—and there it was.

A massive door, black stone shot through with gold veins, pulsing like a heartbeat.

On it, the same serpent and sun symbol—but now whole.

Veer stepped forward, the Crownless Sigil blazing in his palm. As it met the door, the entire chamber trembled.

Stone groaned.

The gates cracked open.

And beyond them—darkness not of night, but of memory.