The sun had reached its zenith, casting stark, blade-thin shadows through the narrow alleyways of Cindra. Zay moved through them like a wraith draped in quiet, cutting corners with the fluidity of someone who knew how to vanish in plain sight. The air was heavy with the midday heat, laced with the iron scent of airship exhaust and the faint sweetness of blooming vine-flowers that clung stubbornly to the brick walls.
He walked with his hands buried in his pockets, head slightly lowered beneath the soft shadow cast by the buildings' eaves. His boots—black leather and raven-feathered—barely made a sound, even as they tapped over the stonework of the city's southern quarter. Cindra bustled in the distance, but here, in the direction he walked, the voices thinned. So did the color.
Ahead loomed the wrought-iron gate of Cindering Graves—Cindra's oldest and most cursed cemetery.
The gates stood tall and crooked, rust trailing down the bars like veins of dried blood. At the top, the twisted metal formed the shape of an open eye, its pupil forged from a black shard of polished obsidian. A small plaque to the side, cracked down the center, read in fading Venlic: "To the ashes, we return. To the cinders, we remain."
Zay stared at the Venlic language, the language of olden Gyro. 'I did see this before in a past life but I never actually read it. Though, at that time, the Cindering Graves had collapsed, the gates were shattered and it was just a few words that was readable at the time.'
The cemetery was vast—far larger than it appeared from the city streets. Worn tombstones jutted from patches of dead earth and ash-stained grass. Crumbling mausoleums hunched like forgotten monuments to ancient families now rotted from history. Thick, black-leafed trees spiraled upward, gnarled and leafless, their branches like skeletal hands reaching toward the sky. Crows watched from above, silent and unmoving.
He pushed the gate open with a low creak and stepped inside. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he walked along the narrow dirt path that snaked through the resting place of Cindra's unwanted dead—vagrants, prisoners, disgraced soldiers, the cursed, and those who'd simply vanished.
Zay veered off the main trail after twenty paces, weaving through headstones until he reached a crooked gravestone leaning against a moss-covered angel statue. The name etched into the stone had faded with time, but the carving of a weeping lily at its base remained intact. He knelt and placed his hand against the lily.
A soft click echoed beneath his palm.
The gravestone shuddered, then groaned as it slowly slid back, revealing a square slab of stone inset into the dirt. From its edges rose the outline of a narrow and dark spiral stairwell. The air that poured from below was cold and smelled of damp stone, blood, and faint rot.
Zay didn't hesitate.
He stepped down into the abyss, letting the slab close silently above him. Darkness swallowed the space instantly, but his eyes adjusted instantly due to [Night Vision] and he saw everything clearly. Zay activated [Predator's Hunting Grounds].
Zay continued downward through the spiral, each step echoing faintly in the silence. The stone beneath his boots was cracked and cold, stained in patches with dried blood. The tunnel twisted until it opened into a broader chamber, where a narrow stone path extended ahead, sloping downward ever so slightly.
At the far end stood a rusted steel gate, crooked in its frame and streaked with corrosion. It blocked the descent like a guardian from another time. In front of it stood two guards. They were both silent, and completely still. Both watched Zay with deadpan expressions, like statues carved from muscle and tension.
They didn't react at first but after a moment, the two guards glanced at each other and charged.
The guard on the left surged forward, pink aura blazing around him, his fist swelling with aura. Five claws of glowing aura formed around his knuckles, extending like talons. The other, bathed in a bright yellow aura, unsheathed a gleaming katana in one fluid motion. He raised it overhead and came down in a brutal arc aimed to split Zay in half.
Both were shorter than Zay, but stocky and dense with compact strength. They moved with violent purpose—like executioners.
Zay's eyes narrowed and he activated his [Predator's Hunting Grounds] passive.
Lines traced across the space in front of him—faint, glowing, flickering like veins of light through mist. The arcs of their attacks, the moment of their breath, the twitch of muscle before impact—all projected in luminous strands. Zay followed one of these lines and dodged both of their strikes.
The katana struck the ground, splitting the stone with a screeching crack that echoed through the chamber. At the same instant, the aura claws raked through the floor, carving five deep punctures that hissed with lingering energy.
Zay unsheathed Evershade in one silent draw, his violet aura flared, laced with tendrils of midnight-blue as he used [Shadow Walk] and vanished from their eyes.
SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK
Seven slashes was all that it took.
The moment lasted no longer than a blink—but what followed would stain the pathway with blood.
The first guard's arms split at the shoulders and spiraled through the air before crashing to the floor. His legs were severed just above the knees, folding him into a mess of twitching meat. His mouth opened, but only blood bubbled out. His head followed a breath later, sliding from his neck like it had simply given up.
One of Zay's cuts had split the second guards spine diagonally. His body fell in halves—upper and lower—as his arms dropped seconds later in a grotesque ballet of muscle and bone. His katana clattered to the ground untouched, and his head rolled in a wide circle before thumping softly against the wall.
Blood coated the stone, splattering in streaks like a painter, painting an image of crimson flowers. Aura evaporated off their corpses in clouds, fading into nothing.
He appeared at the rusted gate and flicked Evershade once to the side—splat—their blood arced in a crimson trail across the ground before vanishing into the air. He sheathed the blade with a slow, deliberate motion, as though the act were ceremonial.
Behind him, the dismembered corpses collapsed with wet, meat-heavy thuds. The sound of their limbs striking the stone echoed long after their aura had faded into silence.
Zay exhaled and raised his right leg, violet aura forming a thin, pulsing coat around it. With a sharp motion, he slammed his foot into the gate, sending it swinging open with a metallic screech and snapping the small lock that had once held it shut.
He stepped past the threshold of the now-open gate and began his descent into the slope beyond, the scent of rust and death trailing him like a loyal shadow.
'Well, I've officially became an enemy of Nox', Zay thought, then simply sighed the thought away. 'It was bound to happen eventually. But... why was I so quick? The last time I moved like that was during the Shattered Sequence. Ever since I got back, I haven't been able to move my body that way.'
Zay continued down the slightly sloped pathway until his eyes caught the sight of a half-broken wooden door up ahead. His violet aura erupted in a thin layer around his foot, and with a sharp inhale, he slammed his foot into the damaged door. It cracked inward with a splintered groan, and he stepped into the dim room beyond.
Dust danced in the air, and his eyes quickly locked onto a scroll resting atop a broken desk—larger than his hand, wrapped in three red threads.
'Is that… what I think it is?'
He approached and lifted the scroll gently. As his fingers touched it, a faint shimmer pulsed across the surface and a glowing overlay from the Resonance Lens appeared in his vision.
[Resonance Echo Scroll: Raven Blade]
Description:Raven Blade is an Echo created by a master swordsman who grew envious of the raven's freedom and their beautiful, blackened wings. He forged a sword style to mimic that freedom—replicating the shimmer of raven feathers under light. When activated, the blade reflects a molten, dark brilliance. This Echo turns the Arbiter's aura pitch black during use, enhances flexibility and agility, and instills a sense of peace and freedom by calming the heart.
Zay read the description silently, eyes narrowing. Then he muttered under his breath, "Arbiter: Vault."
A flicker of violet light engulfed the scroll as it vanished from his palm and a small smile curved his lips as he turned and exited the room.
'I can't believe I found a Resonance Echo Scroll… here, of all places. Do I sell that at the Sinners Night Market... or open it and learn it?'
He resumed his descent, continuing deeper into the slope. The path grew darker, colder, and more rooms emerged—shrouded in silence, waiting to be explored.
He stepped into the first room he came across. There was no door, only a warped wooden frame where one might have once hung. The space was bare, stripped of anything meaningful. A crumbling dresser leaned crookedly against the far wall, one drawer halfway open, its contents long since taken or rotted away. Dust blanketed everything in a thick, undisturbed layer. The air was dry, and the scent of old wood and mildew clung to the silence like a forgotten memory.
In the center of the room sat a bed, the mattress sagging and mottled with stains. On it lay a man, sound asleep, undisturbed by the footsteps of the intruder.
Zay's eyes narrowed.
He reached down to the left side of his waist and withdrew one of the nine stone daggers, each tipped with a venom refined for one purpose: silent, agonizing, quick death. The blade glistened faintly in the low light filtering in through a crack in the ceiling above.
Moving slowly, Zay approached the bed. He took in a steady, silent breath, then held it. His eyes tracked along the man's neck, searching. Then he found a vein, swollen and slightly exposed just above the collarbone.
He tightened his grip on the dagger.
In a single, fluid motion, he clamped one gloved-hand over the man's mouth while the other drove the dagger into the vulnerable spot. The stone pierced skin and muscle with barely a sound.
The venom worked instantly. The man's body jerked violently, legs kicking against the bedframe. Foam spilled from his mouth as his eyes snapped open in panic. He tried to scream, but Zay's hand muffled it to nothing. The spasms grew weaker, the man's muscles seizing one final time before his eyes rolled back and he went completely still.
Zay pulled the blade free and stepped back, watching as the last of the breath drained from the man's lungs.
Zay exhaled slowly, releasing the breath he had been holding, and began to scan the nearly barren room. Dust blanketed the floor and curled in the corners like dried cobwebs. The only furnishings were a rotting wooden dresser, a bed with a dead man laying on it, and the faded outlines of where furniture might have once stood. The air smelled of mildew and old sweat.
He approached the dresser, its surface warped from moisture and age. The handles were rusted, groaning softly as he pulled open the top drawer. Inside, he discovered nineteen pieces of gold, thirty silver, and seven bronze.
'Who the hell has this kid been robbing?' Zay thought to himself as he looked at each piece.
He opened the next drawer and uncovered a small collection of items. There was a curved dagger with a blackened edge and a serpent-carved hilt, a small clear bottle filled with blue pills and, most surprisingly, a revolver made of a strange fusion of steel and bronze.
"A gun?" Zay whispered. 'What the hell? Why is something like that from Earth, here?'
He lifted the revolver carefully, feeling the cool weight settle into his hand. The steel of the barrel had a brushed texture, while the bronze accents along the frame and hammer gave it a strange appearance. Its grip was wrapped in darkened wood. Faint engravings traced along the metal—symbols he didn't recognize, perhaps just a form of decoration.
Zay located a small latch on the side and pressed it. With a gentle click, the cylinder swung out, revealing seven loaded chambers. He rotated the cylinder with his fingers, watching the bullets catch the dim light from the crack in the ceiling.