The forest stirred to life as dawn's first golden fingers pierced the shrouding mist. Birds announced the new day from gnarled branches while small creatures rustled through the dense undergrowth. The air hung heavy with the mingled scents of damp earth, fresh blood, and acrid smoke.
Adikara methodically wiped his stolen blade against the dead commander's cloak before sliding it into the scabbard at his hip. Grief was a luxury he couldn't afford. Survival demanded swift action.
[Hidden Mission Activated: Locate the Blade of Fallen Stars.] (Estimated location: Unknown ruins, east of Mahadipa border.) (Difficulty: Very Hard.)
He studied the luminous interface Svara projected, brow furrowed in concentration.
"You expect me to venture east? Directly into Mahadipa's domain?" he asked incredulously.
[Precisely, Host!] Svara replied with inappropriate cheerfulness. [Consider the reward: a Legendary-class weapon. Besides... that rusted scrap metal at your side won't serve you in any meaningful confrontation.]
Adikara glanced down at the battered iron sword hanging from his belt. The assessment was undeniable. Against any skilled opponent—an elite soldier or knight—the blade would shatter like brittle glass.
Still... eastward? Beyond the border stretched treacherous jungles, raging rivers, and most concerning—the concentrated might of Mahadipa's military forces.
He clenched his jaw until it ached. There was no alternative. Remaining here meant facing inevitable patrols. Fleeing westward would cast him as perpetual prey.
No, he required true power. Genuine strength. If this "Blade of Fallen Stars" could help carve his vengeance into Mahadipa's royal lineage, then his course was clear.
"Guide me, Svara," he commanded, voice hardened with resolve.
[Excellent decision, Host! Calculating optimal route...]
A pulsing azure line materialized on the miniature map hovering in his field of vision, tracing a serpentine path eastward through the dense forest.
The journey's initial stretch proved merciless.
Adikara navigated through suffocating undergrowth, evading concealed traps and circumventing enemy patrols. Hunger gnawed relentlessly at his insides—yesterday's stolen crust seemed a distant memory. Several times temptation whispered for retreat, but each moment of weakness was crushed beneath memories of the patrol commander's final moments.
"There is no sanctuary behind you," he reminded himself in harsh whispers. "No family awaits. Only this path remains."
Svara periodically interrupted with tactical updates:
[Wild boars detected within proximity.] [Critical fatigue detected. Recommend brief recovery period.] [Host approaching uncharted ruins: heightened vigilance advised.]
After countless exhausting hours, the dense woodland thinned, yielding to craggy highlands dotted with enigmatic stone markers half-submerged in emerald moss. Ruins.
Ancient ones—predating Mahadipa's empire by centuries.
Colossal effigies of forgotten deities erupted from the earth, their visages eroded to featureless masks by millennia of wind and rain. Deteriorating fortifications hinted at once-magnificent strongholds now consumed by nature's inexorable reclamation.
Adikara advanced with meticulous caution, sword gripped tightly, senses strained to their limits.
"This place feels profoundly wrong," he murmured.
[Correction: This place is fundamentally wrong, Host,] Svara stated. [Energy signatures indicate severe anomalies. Probability of hostile entity encounter: 85%.]
Hostile entities?
Icy dread slithered along Adikara's spine.
He pushed forward, passing beneath a collapsed stone archway enshrouded in creeping vines. Beyond stretched an ancient courtyard dominated by a midnight-black altar at its center. Something gleamed atop the stone surface—a faint argentite luminescence, pulsing with slow, deliberate rhythm like a slumbering heart.
The Blade.
Relief nearly triggered an exclamation—but primal instinct froze him mid-step.
Something else inhabited this sacred space.
The atmosphere chilled perceptibly. Shadows writhed along the courtyard's perimeter, coalescing into vaguely humanoid silhouettes—twisted parodies of warriors, decaying flesh fused grotesquely with ancient armor, hollow eye sockets emanating pale cobalt light.
The undead. Eternal sentinels of the forgotten shrine.
Three apparitions materialized, brandishing ethereal weapons.
[Hostile Undead entities detected. Combat assessment: Severe challenge.]
Adikara's blood crystallized in his veins. Exhaustion weighed on his limbs, hunger clouded his mind, his training barely initiated. And now... spectral adversaries?
"A warning might have preceded this moment, Svara!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
[Your commitment was irreversible, Host. Besides, consider this... practical education!] [Advisory: Undead vulnerabilities include decisive strikes. Target cranial areas or sever corporeal connections.]
The first guardian lunged with supernatural velocity. Adikara barely evaded, the phantom blade slicing through his sleeve's edge. He counterattacked with desperate ferocity—and watched in astonishment as his weapon penetrated the entity's misty form, eliciting an unearthly shriek.
Yet the damage proved insufficient. The abomination continued its relentless advance.
The second guardian attacked from his flank. Adikara dropped low, executing a desperate roll across moss-slick stones, heart thundering against his ribs. Strategic options dwindled rapidly—he needed inspiration immediately.
Another interface flashed before him:
[Skill Enhancement: Temporary Sword Focus (+10% Attack Velocity, +5% Precision) activated for 60 seconds.]
Sudden clarity surged through his consciousness. His hands steadied, his respiration regulated.
The third guardian maneuvered behind him, attempting an encirclement.
"Not while I breathe," Adikara snarled.
He feinted toward the second apparition, then pivoted sharply, driving his blade directly through the third guardian's spectral visage. The undead warrior convulsed violently—then dissipated into silvery mist.
First blood.
The remaining pair converged with newfound caution. Adikara seized the offensive momentum. He evaded a horizontal strike, thrust his sword upward into the second guardian's spectral ribcage, then twisted with savage determination. It collapsed inward, dissolving with a sound like superheated steam.
A solitary opponent remained.
The undead commander—larger than its subordinates, encased in blackened, ancient plate.
It raised its massive blade skyward—and reality itself appeared to ripple in protest.
Adikara barely avoided annihilation as the weapon crashed downward, fracturing ancient flagstones in an explosive shower of debris.
Svara's voice cut through his consciousness with urgent clarity:
[Host: Target the junction at the neck! Critical vulnerability identified!]
With a primal battle cry, Adikara charged—narrowly evading a backhanded strike—and drove his blade upward with every ounce of strength into the guardian's exposed throat. The entity froze in place—then disintegrated into fine obsidian dust, its formidable weapon clattering harmlessly against the weathered stones.
Absolute silence descended. Complete and overwhelming.
Adikara collapsed onto his knees, lungs heaving desperately, hands trembling uncontrollably from the potent cocktail of adrenaline and exhaustion.
[All hostile entities neutralized. Location secured.] [Mission progression: 75%. Final objective: Claim the Blade.]
Gradually, he rose and staggered toward the ancient altar.
Upon closer inspection, the sword transcended mortal craftsmanship—unlike any blade ever forged by human hands. The metal shimmered with internal luminescence, strange arcane symbols etched along its length pulsating in perfect synchronization with his heartbeat. The hilt featured elegant simplicity, wrapped in midnight leather, yet the aura it projected was unmistakable: absolute power.
He extended his hand— fingers quivering with anticipation— and claimed the hilt.
Instantaneously, primal energy surged through his body, nearly lifting him from the ground. Visions cascaded through his consciousness: ancient conflicts long expunged from historical record, monarchs crowned and subsequently slaughtered, vast empires ascending before crumbling into forgotten dust.
And throughout every vision—the Blade. Awaiting a wielder worthy of its terrible magnificence.
[Congratulations achieved, Host!] [Legendary Weapon Acquired: Blade of Fallen Stars.] [New Skill Taxonomy Unlocked: Starforged Sword Arts.]
Adikara tightened his grip around the weapon, feeling its perfect equilibrium, sensing its primordial hunger for conflict. A grim smile curved his bloodied lips.
The world had forsaken him. Mahadipa's rulers had discarded him like worthless refuse.
Now he possessed true power. Now he commanded genuine strength.
And soon... Every soul who had wronged him would kneel in supplication—or perish beneath his transcendent blade.