Vera found that she really, really liked moving. And fighting. To a dangerous—and frankly unsettling—degree.
The first part, maybe, was a natural consequence of spending three years mostly confined to her apartment, barely able to go anywhere without risking a pain attack. That made sense.
But the second part?
That felt like something else entirely—a hidden urge buried so deep she hadn't even known it existed. And now that it had surfaced… it was hard to ignore. It might even explain some of the reckless tendencies she'd had since she was a kid, or her long-standing obsession with punishingly difficult games like Ashen Legacy.
She had no idea how long she kept going in the Trial Chamber, fighting the opponents conjured by the Mark of Accord. There was too much fun. Too much adrenaline. It felt just like slipping into a flow state while grinding dungeons or soloing bosses in the game, except this time, her body was actually doing it.
Her only regret was having to limit herself to Second Seal Forms and Marks after she'd nearly cracked the platform's defenses with one particularly enthusiastic spin of a Second Seal attack Form. Still, even with that restriction, she had more than enough to work with—testing abilities, experimenting with timings, trying old combos from the game, even improvising new ones just for fun.
Throughout most of it, Serel kept cheering from the sidelines, mimicking Vera's movements with added sound effects. Even Vera had to admit it was adorable, if slightly foreboding. She spared more than one passing thought for the potential implications of being responsible for a tiny future combat maniac, but ultimately shrugged it off for now and kept going.
The high was just too good.
At least, until Serel apparently wore herself out from all the jumping and twirling and—at some point—passed out entirely.
Embarrassingly so, the lack of continued cheers wasn't something Vera noticed immediately. It was pure coincidence that she eventually glanced over and found the girl slumped against a rack of wooden practice weapons, fast asleep.
She stared.
…This made her a terrible person, didn't it?
What would the 'Handbook of Responsible Parenting' say about forgetting a kid existed because you got caught up indulging your newly discovered combat craving?
Nothing good, probably.
She joked, but she did feel bad. If fighting was this addictive—this all-consuming—then she'd need to be careful. Very careful. Because this wasn't like chasing boss kills in a game anymore. This was real. This was physical. And as intoxicating as it was, the consequences couldn't just be brushed aside.
Finally letting Stillwake dissolve from her grasp and return to the Vaultring, she wiped sweat from her brow and stepped off the platform. She still wasn't tired. Not even close. And that, in itself, was thrilling.
It made her want to see how far she could push this body before it hit its limit.
She made her way over to Serel, kneeling beside her and gently brushing strands of silver hair away from her face. She watched the girl sleep for a few quiet moments.
That scary feeling returned. The one that spread through her chest like a warm, unfamiliar bloom.
She didn't say anything.
Instead, she carefully picked Serel up, cradling her without waking her. The girl murmured something incoherent and instinctively wrapped her arms around Vera's neck in a loose, sleepy hug that made her tense briefly.
Vera found it impressive Serel had managed to fall asleep at all. Especially after waking up a couple of hours ago, right before Vera had first come to see her.
...It had only been a couple of hours, right?
She frowned.
She should probably find Caldrin and ask. The man had that terrifying sense of time. Though she was wondering if that wasn't another joke of his.
She glanced around the chamber, then looked toward the stairs leading up to the Ember Gallery.
Where would Caldrin most likely be right now? Hard to say. It depended on how long she'd actually been at this. But she didn't exactly feel like combing through the entire estate.
Wasn't there a better way to find him?
Actually…
Shifting Serel gently into her left arm, Vera raised her right hand and channeled her Resonance, tracing her finger through the air in a deliberate motion.
This was slightly harder without Stillwake, she realized. Still, it worked.
A pale sigil took shape, thin and delicate, like strands of glass catching moonlight.
Mark of the Stillbound Veil.
From the sigil, near-invisible threads of shimmer extended outward in a widening radial web. The strands fanned out, pulsing softly where they brushed Serel, then continued expanding until they disappeared from view entirely.
In the game, this had been a Second Seal Mark designed to reveal cloaked or hidden enemies within a moderate radius for six seconds. Normally, that wouldn't help here.
But in this world?
Everything scaled differently. She'd already learned she could push her Forms and Marks beyond their old limits. Power, range, timing—all of it responded to her control in ways the game never had. Theoretically, if she could tune the spell's Resonance output just right…
She fed more energy into the Mark and felt the threads stretch beyond the chamber, past the obsidian and stone walls, out into the rest of the estate. Further. Further still. How far could this go?
Then she felt it.
A pulse—no, several pulses—rippled across her senses like faint echoes through a still lake. Multiple presences, each distinct in shape and texture. But one of them felt immediately familiar.
Her lips curled slightly.
Found you.
Time to pay the butler a surprise visit.
Stillwake reappeared in her right hand. Lifting it, she focused, bracing for her highest Seal yet. A grin tugged at her mouth.
Mark of Hollow Reach.
She let Stillwake's blade fall through the air.
Where it passed, reality split open in silence, like water parted before a barge. A slit formed in space itself, lined with flickering Hollow runes that twisted and writhed like a thousand reaching hands.
Once the tear was complete, Vera gave Stillwake a small spin, rested it at her side, and stepped through without hesitation.
For a brief, breathless moment, there was only stillness. Weightless. Soundless. Sensationless.
Then her foot touched solid ground.
She emerged into one of Sablewatch Hollow's winding upper corridors—and standing directly before her, of course, was Caldrin.
Looking completely unruffled by her sudden arrival.
"Welcome, my lady," he said with a mild incline of the head. "I take it your training session is concluded?"
Vera clicked her tongue.
Disappointing. She'd hoped to surprise him. Maybe even scare him a little. But he looked like this was just another Tuesday.
"Did I do something to offend, my lady?" Caldrin asked, all innocence.
Vera dismissed Stillwake with a flick and waved a hand. "No. You couldn't possibly."
He smiled and bowed. "That is a relief to hear."
She gave him a sideways look and sighed. Her first use of a Fifth Seal Mark deserved to have made more of a splash. Then again, maybe it was her fault for choosing one of the more modest, utility-focused options.
Relatively modest, anyway.
She glanced over her shoulder as the Hollow Reach rift slowly faded from view.
As far as Fifth Seal Marks went, Hollow Reach was one of the more niche options—only unlockable by diving deep into the House Hollow questlines and challenge branches. Most high-tier players didn't bother with it. It required sacrificing flashier or more aggressive combat branches, and the in-game teleport range was fairly short, meant for repositioning mid-fight. But Vera had always preferred it.
And now?
She was thrilled she'd kept it.
Caldrin's unshaken expression aside, she'd just crossed half the estate in a blink, and it hadn't even drained her much.
It was yet another ability she couldn't wait to push further.
"Is Miss Serel alright?" Caldrin's voice cut into her thoughts, his eyes on the small sleeping girl in Vera's arms.
"She's fine," Vera said. "…I think. Just tired. Got a little too excited watching me fight, then wore herself out bouncing around."
"I see." Caldrin's tone was amused, his brow lifting slightly. "And how long did it take for you to notice?"
Vera's expression froze. Her eyes narrowed.
How did he know?
Caldrin offered a patient smile.
She cleared her throat. "...How long were we gone?"
"Five hours and twenty-three minutes by my count, my lady."
She fell silent.
That was… a bit longer than a couple of hours.
With a quiet sigh, she pried Serel's arms from around her neck and carefully transferred the girl into Caldrin's. "Can you take her to her room and… tuck her in for now?"
"Of course. Planning to go somewhere?"
"I thought I'd take a quick trip out. Get a better sense of the area—maybe scout a little. If I'm up for it, I might deal with those Hollowmaw Sentinels you mentioned."
She'd just finished in the Trial Chamber, but her body still buzzed. She needed to stretch her legs a little more. Preferably without risking damage to the estate this time. And she needed a better sense of the region beyond Duskfall Vale, the mountain-locked valley that cradled Sablewatch Hollow.
Caldrin gave a thoughtful nod. "Very well, my lady. But do try not to cause any geological disturbances, if you can help it."
Vera arched a brow at the dry note in his voice. "I think I'll manage."
Probably.
She cast one last look at Serel's face. The girl didn't look quite as content in Caldrin's arms as she had in hers, and the tug in Vera's chest returned.
But she turned, mantle swaying behind her, and made her way out.
Reaching the Ember Gallery, she stepped into the courtyard. Her steps echoed over the stone as she made for the gates. They opened quietly as she approached, responding to her presence alone.
Her gaze flicked briefly over the twin serpents carved beneath the split-moon crest in the wrought iron, feeling a mix of pride and secondhand embarrassment at the design.
Once the gates shut behind her, Vera paused.
For a few seconds, she simply stood there and listened.
Birdsong filtered from the trees, mingling with the hush of distant wings. A breeze stirred her silver-gray hair, cool against her face and exposed arms.
Her eyes drifted to the lake. The water lay still, wrapped in a rolling mist that curled across the far banks like fingers of cloud. Not far from its edge stood the cottage that Caldrin had apparently lived in for the last two years.
Her focus lifted to the thick treeline beyond it. Dense. Dark. Alive. Leaves rustled in the breeze, a sea of shifting green.
She found herself wondering what lurked inside.
There should be at least a few high-level monsters in there.
Finally, her gaze rose to the mountains—jagged silhouettes carved across the golden horizon, their peaks catching the last light of the setting sun.
That was her next destination.
If she wanted a real look at the world she'd been thrown into, there was no better vantage point.
The problem was distance.
Vera was fairly sure she could run it now, but who knows how many hours that'd take? She definitely wouldn't make it back before dark.
She considered using Mark of Hollow Reach again. Would it reach that far if she dumped everything into the invocation? Maybe. But something told her it would burn through a considerable chunk of RP. Probably not the smartest idea while she was still figuring things out.
She glanced back at the gates behind her.
Ashen Legacy had mounts. No flying ones, but the ground-bound creatures had been fast enough. In the game, they were summonable skills tied to specific unlocks. She didn't feel any skills like that here—but then again, player housing hadn't included stables either. Yet earlier, when she'd activated Mark of the Stillbound Veil, some of the presences she sensed hadn't felt human.
It wouldn't surprise her if those were her mounts.
Vera turned, about to head back and ask Caldrin—
Then paused.
Actually… she could ask him later.
She just had another idea. One that might be worth testing first.
She took a steadying breath, funneling Resonance through her limbs as faint cinders prickled under her skin. A simple Second Seal Form. Nothing big.
Breakstep.
A flicker of distortion rippled beneath her feet—then exploded. She shot forward with a sudden lurch of momentum, wind tearing past her face. Before she realized it, she'd already cleared half the distance to the treeline. Only her sharpened reflexes saved her from eating dirt. She slammed her hands down, skidding through the grass, and barely converted the fall into something vaguely resembling a half-botched combat roll, tufts of dirt clutched in her fingers.
She knelt there, catching her breath.
Okay.
She might just have to accept that all of her Forms required some…acclimation. Compared to the less physical Marks, they demanded more finesse. She was almost glad her build leaned slightly more toward Marks than Forms.
Still—Breakstep had done exactly what she wanted. And the lack of any observable cooldowns in this world opened up some very interesting possibilities. There were still limits, sure—she'd felt it earlier with her Crescent Severances—a mounting strain from repeated use. But it wasn't that bad, and nothing like the firm timers in the game.
Standing, she bounced on the balls of her feet, rolled her shoulders, and exhaled.
Let's try that again.
Breakstep.
She bent low and pushed off just as the Form triggered—this time, launching not just forward, but up. A direction the game had never allowed. Wind rushed past her as she soared nearly ten meters into the air. Her arms flailed as she scrambled for balance, instincts kicking in—
Breakstep.
No need to touch the ground.
The Form activated midair, thrusting her forward in a burst of speed. She streaked across the sky, spinning slightly as the forest rushed closer.
Unfortunately, her timing was a little off on the third cast.
"Shi—"
A branch slammed into her gut like a wooden battering ram. It broke first—but that didn't stop her from pinwheeling through the canopy, snapping more branches on the way down.
She landed flat on her back in a bed of ferns.
Blinking at the treetops overhead, she traced the mangled trail she'd left in the canopy.
Then a breathless laugh escaped her lips.
That should have hurt.
It didn't.
Just bruised her pride.
She lay there for a minute or two, listening to the forest breathe, then pushed herself up and dusted off pine needles and leaves—some of which had unfortunately made their way into her clothes.
She ignored those.
Trudging back to the forest's edge, she eyed the open sky and activated Breakstep again.
This time, the launch was cleaner. Her second activation was smoother still, letting her arc over the treetops in an almost graceful curve. A third cast lifted her higher, and on the fourth, she paused—just for a heartbeat—to gather extra Resonance.
The sigils on her arms lit like burning script.
Then—
Breakstep.
A boom cracked behind her.
Vera rocketed forward, air peeling away from her skin. Trees blurred below. Her hair whipped wildly. She surged through the sky like a silver comet, clearing a hundred meters in seconds. The valley shrank beneath her.
And instead of fear, all she felt was—
Exhilaration.
Pure and wild.
And, once again, addictive.
She pushed harder, chaining Breakstep after Breakstep, learning to time the Form midair. At first, it was uncontrolled lunges. Then it started to resemble flight—controlled bursts, precisely aimed. Leaps that carved through the sky.
Soon, it wasn't about testing utility anymore.
It became a kind of dance. Just like in the Trial Chamber.
And like before, she was falling in love with it.
Despite dozens of casts, her RP reserves barely dipped. In-game, she'd have long since emptied her bar. Here? She was starting to question how deep her well of power really ran.
She only remembered her original goal after far more than just a few minutes of gleeful sky-running—probably the better part of an hour—weaving arcs above the lake, getting bolder with every pass. She started dipping low, skipping above the mist like a stone over water, blinking short distances with Mark of Hollow Reach in tandem with Breakstep just to test the synergy.
By the time she stopped to take stock, the sun had long since slipped beneath the mountains to the west, and long, charcoal shadows stretched across the valley.
Above, a pale, ashen moon had risen—heavy in the night sky like a distant eye.
Vera smirked.
So much for getting back before dark.
Clearly, her attention span needed work.
But she wasn't about to abandon her goal now. It was darker, sure, but not impassable. She trusted Caldrin to take care of Serel back at the estate.
She dashed lightly across the lake's glassy surface with rapid steps until she reached the far shore. There, she crouched for just a moment and focused her Resonance to try a new Mark.
Mark of Ember Sight.
A warm ember glow swept across her vision, like smoldering coals. As the Mark settled, the darkness lost its hold. Shadows sharpened into clear shapes, details emerging with stark contrast, all touched by a subtle red-orange tint.
You didn't get far in any Ashen Legacy dungeon without some kind of dark vision. It had been a long-standing debate among top players whether phials or Marks were the better route for it. Vera had always favored Marks. Not just because they felt cooler, but because they lasted longer and worked better. She'd always carved out space in her build for a few utility abilities like this.
Now able to see clearly again, she rose and scanned the trees ahead.
Then she activated Breakstep once more, launching herself above the canopy as she turned her gaze toward what she estimated was east, based on where the sun had set.
That was where she was going.
With a shift of weight and a grin, Vera took off.