The relic resonance pulsed through the forest, a low hum that seemed to sync with the frantic beating of Elias Vaeron's heart, its rhythm stirring something deep within his frail, six-year-old body. Crouched behind a gnarled oak, his pale face smudged with soot and blood, an arrow graze scarring his left cheek, Elias gripped the crude musket, its makeshift bayonet glinting faintly in the moonlight filtering through the dense canopy. His steel-gray eyes, flecked with amber, darted toward the source of the glow—a faint, pulsing light deeper in the forest. The Dominion Interface screamed in his vision: Arcane Source: Relic Resonance. Proximity: 50 meters. Threat Level: Unknown.
The non-human entity's roar shook the trees, its obsidian-scaled hide tearing through underbrush as it pursued, its red eyes locked on Elias. House Taryn's green-armored cavalry, led by Lord Edric Taryn, clashed with the imperial vanguard's lances in the village beyond, their golden stag banners barely visible through the smoke. The Order of the Veil's white-cloaked leader, their gaunt face pale and silver hair singed, advanced with their remaining followers, their cracked staff pulsing green. The black-armored figure, their helm obscuring their face and their arcane blade glowing, cut through Taryn's ranks with eerie precision. Lady Seline Kaelar, her silver armor dented and blonde hair matted with blood, stood firm with her two riders—scarred-jaw and patchy-beard—their spears bloodied but unyielding. Mira, her freckled face pale and auburn braid frayed, clutched her dagger beside Elias, her brown eyes fierce despite the pain in her bandaged arm. The two remaining militia, gaunt and bloodied, held rusted swords, their loyalty to Elias a flicker of hope in the chaos.
Elias's burned right arm throbbed, the blistered skin screaming under his tattered nightshirt. The interface flashed: Vaeron Relic: Arcane Amplifier—his blood, the magnet drawing this relentless onslaught. The resonance in the forest, tied to him, was no coincidence. Was it a weapon? A trap? His past life's instincts—honed in urban sieges and desperate stands—urged him to find it before his enemies did.
"Seline," Elias whispered, his voice raw but steady, "hold the line here. Keep Taryn between us and the vanguard. Mira, scout the glow—stay low." Seline's blue eyes met his, her angular face set with grudging respect as she nodded, signaling her riders to brace. Mira darted into the shadows, her wiry frame vanishing among the trees.
The interface pinged: Tactics (Level 1): Secure relic source to gain strategic advantage. Elias's mind raced—control the resonance, and he might turn the tide. The forest's dense terrain offered cover, its roots and underbrush ideal for traps. "Militia," he said to the two survivors, their faces haggard but resolute, "rig branches across the path—slow that beast."
They obeyed, dragging fallen limbs to form a crude barrier. The interface estimated: Trap Success Probability: 40%. Elias gripped the musket, its scattershot spent, the bayonet his only weapon. The Arcane Pulse Grenade blueprint lingered, but without materials, it was useless.
The beast's claws tore through the forest, its roar shaking leaves. The interface warned: Entity Proximity: 20 meters. Elias glanced at Seline, her silver armor glinting as she braced her spear. "If it breaks through, aim for its eyes," he said. She nodded, her blonde hair whipping in the wind.
Mira returned, her freckled face flushed. "It's a clearing," she whispered. "A stone altar, glowing green. Runes on it—same as the Veil's staffs." Elias's heart sank. Runes, arcane, tied to his blood. The relic's source was no mere artifact—it was a conduit.
The interface flashed: Diplomacy (Level 1): Leverage Taryn's alliance to delay Veil. Elias raised his voice, shouting toward Edric, whose bearded face was bloodied but fierce in the distance. "Taryn! The Veil's after the same prize! Keep them off us, and we'll split the relic's power!"
Edric's hazel eyes narrowed, his green plate scratched but steady. "You bargain with what you don't own, Vaeron," he called, but he signaled his cavalry to press the Veil harder, their lances clashing with glowing staffs. The interface updated: House Taryn: Ally (Fragile).
The black-armored figure broke through, their arcane blade slicing a Taryn rider's horse in half. The interface tagged: Combat Ability: Elite. Arcane Enhancement: Critical. Elias's stomach twisted—they were coming for him. The Veil's leader chanted, their silver hair whipping as their staff amplified the figure's blade, green light flaring.
Elias seized the moment. "To the altar!" he shouted, sprinting toward the glow, Seline and Mira at his heels. The militia held the barrier, their swords flashing as the beast charged. Its claws tore through the branches, felling one man. The interface screamed: Allied Losses: 1 militia.
They reached the clearing, the altar a slab of black stone carved with glowing green runes, pulsing in time with Elias's heartbeat. The interface flashed: Relic Resonance: Arcane Amplifier Core. Activation Risk: High. Elias's blood chilled—touch it, and he might unleash something catastrophic. But leaving it for the Veil was worse.
The black-armored figure emerged, their helm glinting, their blade aimed at Elias. "Your blood, Vaeron," they said, their voice a low growl, distorted by arcane power. Seline's riders charged, their spears deflected by the blade's green aura. The beast roared behind, its red eyes glowing, drawn to the altar.
Elias's mind churned, recalling guerrilla tactics—use the terrain, strike fast. The clearing's edges were thick with vines and roots. "Mira, rig vines—trip them!" She scrambled, tying vines across the path, her hands quick despite her injury. The interface estimated: Trap Success Probability: 45%.
The Veil's leader entered, their white cloak singed, their green eyes blazing. "The Amplifier is ours," they hissed, raising their staff. A green bolt lanced toward Elias, who dove behind the altar, the beam cracking stone. Pain flared in his burned arm, his vision blurring.
"Seline, now!" Elias shouted. Her riders struck, their spears grazing the leader, disrupting their chant. The black-armored figure stumbled, their blade dimming. The interface flashed: Veil Arcane Output: Reduced by 20%.
The beast lunged, its claws catching the vines, slowing it. Elias gripped the musket, its bayonet his only weapon. The interface pinged: Legacy Protocol: Unlocked. Blueprint Available—Arcane-Infused Bayonet. A blade etched with runes, amplifying strikes against arcane targets. He needed a forge, but the altar's runes might suffice.
He scraped the bayonet across the altar, the interface guiding his hands to mimic the runes' patterns. The blade glowed faintly green, resonating with the altar. The interface confirmed: Modification Complete. Effectiveness: Enhanced.
Elias charged the black-armored figure, the bayonet slashing. The glowing blade met theirs, sparks erupting, the arcane enhancement cutting through their aura. The figure staggered, a gash in their armor. The interface flashed: Enemy Damage: Significant.
But the beast broke free, its tail lashing, shattering a tree. The Veil's leader chanted, their staff flaring, empowering the figure. The interface warned: Arcane Surge: Imminent. Elias dove, shielding Mira, as a green wave swept the clearing, knocking Seline back.
Taryn's forces faltered, their numbers down to ten cavalry and five infantry, Edric's face grim as he fought the vanguard. The interface updated: Taryn Morale: Wavering. Elias's heart sank—his allies were breaking, and the relic's power was still a mystery.
He grabbed a stone from the altar, its runes pulsing. The interface flashed: Relic Interaction: Initiated. Risk: Catastrophic. His blood tingled, the resonance intensifying. Was this the Amplifier's activation? He had no time to hesitate.
The black-armored figure lunged, their blade aimed at his heart. Elias parried with the bayonet, the runes flaring, holding the blow. Seline's riders rallied, their spears striking the beast, drawing blood. Mira's vines tripped a Veil follower, their staff falling.
But a new sound broke through—a low, rhythmic drumbeat from the forest's edge. The interface screamed: New Forces: 30 infantry, arcane signatures. Affiliation: Cult of the Iron Flame. Intent: Hostile.
Figures in red robes emerged, their faces hidden by iron masks, their hands glowing with fiery runes.