Per:
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Chapter 1 – Part 7G
(Dungeon Traces & Core Advancement)
The wind carried a strange scent through the outskirts of Ashen Hollow—a metallic tang tinged with damp earth. Jofyn's senses sharpened immediately, shards in his robe pulsing faintly in response.
"Hmm," the robe murmured, floating slightly above his shoulders. "Not ordinary dust. Something is… off. Or perhaps just interesting. Either way, keep your hands and wits ready."
Jofyn crouched, eyes scanning the ground. Faint cracks ran across the forest floor, small fissures glowing dimly with blue and violet light. Dungeon traces. Minor, but unmistakable. Only a fool or an overconfident noble would ignore them.
"Perfect," he whispered under his breath, crouching closer. "Just enough to test a few ideas."
The nobles from earlier, trailing behind for the afternoon exercises, had noticed. They paused, smirking, assuming he would stumble.
"Careful, Vale," one hissed. "That glow doesn't concern you. Best leave it alone before you get yourself hurt."
Jofyn ignored them. Hands moved over the stones and crystals he had gathered earlier, weaving delicate glyphs into the fibers of his cloak. The Forge Core hummed in subtle rhythm with the shards, feeding him quiet knowledge. He extended the flow, sending faint pulses into the dungeon traces.
A small fissure widened, not violently, but just enough to reveal a cavity—a miniature dungeon. The air shimmered faintly with elemental residue: water, faint fire, and something else he could not yet name.
The robe whispered, excited but cautious: "Ah, the hidden heartbeat of the earth. Small, but alive. Don't overdo it, Vale, or we'll have a problem."
Jofyn smiled faintly, carefully placing a few crystals into the fissure. Threads of energy from his Forge Core flowed into them, stabilizing the cavity. The minor dungeon responded, pulsing gently in recognition—an echo of life.
The nobles leaned closer, whispering amongst themselves. "He… he's manipulating it. With nothing but shards and threads?" one hissed.
The robe flared slightly, teasing. "Yes, yes. Quiet genius in action. Watch, and maybe learn something… or just gape, your choice."
A subtle tremor ran through Jofyn's core, a faint pulse of resonance that hadn't appeared before. He paused, feeling it sync with the shards in his robe. Something new—something stirring beyond the first-layer Forge Core.
The fissure pulsed brighter for a moment, then dimmed, stabilizing into a small pocket. Energy hummed gently from it, faintly like a heartbeat. Jofyn knew this was only a minor advancement, only the first ripple of what could be.
The nobles stepped back, faces tight with confusion and envy. Even the instructor, observing from a distance, paused, eyes narrowing as he noted the subtle manipulation.
The robe quipped, voice low and triumphant: "Ah, see? Not flashy, not dramatic… but effective. And they don't even understand the rhythm you're dancing to."
Jofyn exhaled slowly, adjusting the shards embedded in the cloak. He didn't celebrate. Not yet. Each step, each discovery, was a whisper of potential, a promise of what could come with patience and focus.
From the shadows of the trees, a faint glimmer caught his eye. Small. Quick. Watching. Something unseen, yet aware. The pulse in his chest quickened, faintly echoing the rhythm of the minor dungeon. Could it be a guardian? A spirit? A hint of what would later become Haile, his hawk companion? He couldn't know yet.
"Focus," the robe reminded, almost sharply. "Curiosity is fine, but we have work. Always work."
Jofyn nodded silently, continuing his careful manipulation of the cavity, knowing that each small success, each subtle advance, was building the foundation for something far greater.
Even as the nobles muttered, whispering of luck and accident, the forge in his chest, the shards in his robe, and the faint pulse of creation in his hands told another story: quiet mastery, deliberate thought, and a rhythm uniquely his own.
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