Rowan's boots skidded on the cavern floor, his silver eyes darting between the three shadow-wolves circling him. Their ember-like gazes burned through the crimson glow of Vyrath's twin moons, their snarls echoing off rune-carved walls.
The Vein's warning pulsed in his mind.
"Survive, Rowan Heartz. Your conquest begins now."
His heart hammered, but a grin tugged at his lips. "Three against one? Guess the webnovels didn't lie about the odds being stacked." The memory of that mysterious woman, her sultry voice, her silk-clad curves flashed through his head, fueling his resolve. If he was going to charm her, he'd have to live first.
"Threat Level: Moderate.
Reflex Skill: Level 1 Active."
The Vein's interface glowed, sharpening his senses. The wolves lunged as one, claws slashing through the air. Rowan dove, rolling under a swipe that grazed his cloak, tearing the fabric of his robes. He sprang up quickly on his feet, his dagger flashed with a crimson glow, and caught the smallest wolf's flank. Black mist sprayed, and it howled, staggering.
"Essence absorbed.
Vein Points: 15."
The other two snarled, circling tighter, their stench of ash and decay choking his lungs.
"No time for heroics," Rowan muttered, eyeing the cliff path to Vyrath. "Fuck it" He gritted his teeth and sprinted towards the cliff, dodging a snapping jaw, his new body moving faster than his old one ever could. The Vein pinged again,
"Objective Progress: 20%.
Reach the Obsidian District."
The cavern shook, runes flaring brighter, as if urging him forward—or warning him of worse to come. He burst onto the cliff, Vyrath sprawling below like a beast of obsidian and neon ready to swollow him whole, its tall buildings pulsing with arcane lights. The wolves growls faded behind him, but a new sound of soft footsteps made him spin.
A figure emerged from the mist, cloaked in a tattered hood, but the curves beneath gave her away. Her emerald eyes glinted with mischief, red hair spilling like fire from her hood. "Not bad, Bloodmarked," she purred, her voice playful but edged with a quiet danger which was equal parts thrilling and equal parts terrifying."Most don't survive their first Crucible pack. But you are one of the lucky ones huh" She said, eyes gleaming with interest.
Rowan's grip tightened on his dagger, ready for a confrontation if necessary but before anything could happen the Vein flashed
"Target Identified: Unknown Female.
Influence Potential: Very High.
Charm Skill: Level 1 Unlocked.
Charm success:22%"
His lips curved. "Thanks for the applause, beautiful lady but I'm not here for a fan club meet. Who are you?" His silver eyes scanned her, catching the way her cloak clung to her hips, the confident tilt of her chin. Something about her sparked a heat he couldn't ignore.
She stepped closer, her scent a blend of wildflowers and rose hitting him like a spell. "Call me Vey," she said, dodging his question. "You're Rowan Heartz, the new Bloodmarked everyone's whispering about." She smirked, circling him like a predator playing with prey. "Got a death wish, running through the Crucible alone?"
"More like a life wish, and if we are talking why don't you start by telling me how do you know my name?" he shot back, leaning in just enough to test her reaction.
"ohh, i have my ways. Don't worry about it." she winked placing her fingers on her lips. " i can understand we all have some secrets of our own, don't we? So let me ask this."
He abruptly closed the distance between them to the point they can feel each others breaths, " What is a woman with such a beauty like yourself doing here in the middle of the night? Is it because you like to take a stroll in such dangerous places or..." He looked deeply in her eyes with his silver ones and smirked "is it something more ... intimate?"
"Charm Success: 35%.
Proceed with caution."
Her eyes flicked to his lips then to his silver eyes which glowed with a knowing gleam as if he can see right through her, a flush creeping up her neck.
"Gotcha", he thought, but her next words threw him off guard.
"You remind me of someone," she said, her tone softening, almost wistful. "Someone I… shouldn't think about." Her gaze lingered, heavy with something unspoken—longing maybe, or guilt.
Rowan's breathe hitched that gaze even though The Vein didn't warn him, but her words carried a weight that screamed secrets, secrets he knew too well cause he too ones knew and saw someone with that gaze, a gaze that wants to fix things but its so broken that it can't be fixed.
And that was not all, he felt as if their was something trying to bring them closer as if she was someone he should protect? Was she tied to his bloodline? Or something closer, something forbidden?
Before he could press, a roar split the air. Another shadow-wolf, larger than the others, charged from the mist.
Vey moved like lightning, drawing a curved blade and slicing its throat in one fluid motion. Black mist erupted, and she spun to face him, breathing steady, but her cloak slipping a bit to reveal a leather-clad figure that made his pulse race.
"Essence shared. Vein Points: 25."
"Show-off," Rowan said, masking the heat coiling in his chest. "You always save random guys in caverns?"
"Only the cute ones," she teased, but her eyes darted to the shadows, wary. "The Crucible's not done with you, Heartz. Stick with me if you want to reach Vyrath alive." She paused, then added, softer, "And… watch out for the Sylvaras. They're not just nobles. They're family. Messed-up family."
Rowan's brows shot up. "Family? Like, dysfunctional dinner-table family, or…?" He left the question hanging, testing her. Vey's lips parted, then closed, her expression torn between amusement and something darker—possessiveness, maybe, or a secret she couldn't share.
The Vein pinged again,
"Anomaly Detected: Emotional Conflict. Target may have ties to House Sylvara."
"Complicated," she said finally, turning toward the path. "Come on, Bloodmarked. Vyrath's waiting, and the gala's in three days. You don't want to miss it."
"Gala?" Rowan followed, his mind racing. The Vein updated,
"New Objective: Infiltrate the Obsidian Gala.
Reward: 500 Vein Points.
Penalty: Death."
He smirked. "Sounds like my kind of party."
They trekked down the cliff, Vyrath's neon glow growing brighter. Vey's movements were fluid, her blade glinting as she cut through vines blocking their path.
Rowan watched her, noting the way she glanced back—not just to check for danger, but with a flicker of something deeper. Admiration? Desire? Or something he couldn't name, tied to her "family" comment. The air between them crackled, and he couldn't shake the feeling she was more than a rogue guide.
As they reached the city's edge, a slum district of ramshackle stalls and flickering lanterns, Vey stopped. "This is where I leave you," she said, her voice low. "But we'll meet again, Rowan Heartz. Don't trust the Sylvaras—especially Elyra. She's… too close to Lyria." Her words dripped with meaning, a hint of forbidden bonds between the sisters that made Rowan's skin prickle.
"Elyra? Lyria? Who are they? And when will we meet again?" he pressed, stepping closer eyes filled with an intense gleam. Her breath hitched, their faces were inches apart, her wildflower scent overwhelming.
The Vein flashed:
"Charm Success: 50%.
Emotional Anomaly Intensified."
Vey pulled back, hiding her real feelings behind a playful smirk. "You'll see. Survive the slums, and maybe I'll tell you more." She vanished into the shadows, leaving Rowan alone in Vyrath's underbelly.
The Vein's interface flared,
"Warning: Hostile presence detected.
Objective Update: Survive the slums and reach the Obsidian District."
And soon a cloaked figure appeared in front of the alley, their eyes glowing faintly. The Vein pinged again,
"Target Identified: Lyria Sylvara.
Hostile Intent: High."
Rowan's grin faded. A gala, a mysterious rogue, and now a Sylvara sister hunting him? "Yeah," he muttered, gripping his dagger. "I'm definitely fucked."