The ruins faded behind them, swallowed by shadow and silence as Arlen and Liora trekked deeper into the forest. Dawn painted the horizon in pale hues of gold and crimson, but the woods ahead grew darker with every step, as if the light itself hesitated to enter.
The Scarlet Grove—that was what the map etched into the obelisk had called it. A place where the trees bled red sap, where the soil thrummed with old curses, and where travelers rarely returned.
Arlen tightened his grip on his staff. His Emberflame flickered faintly, its glow struggling against the crimson mist that clung to the air. "This doesn't feel like any forest I've seen," he muttered.
Liora's hand hovered near her sword hilt. "That's because it isn't. Places like this are scars on the world. They breathe, they hunger, and sometimes, they remember."
> Quest Update: Enter the Scarlet Grove – Survive 24 Hours
Reward: Unknown
The system's cold reminder sent a chill down Arlen's spine. Survive twenty-four hours? That meant whatever lurked here was no trivial danger.
The first signs of the grove's nature appeared quickly. Trees oozed dark red sap that hissed faintly when it touched the ground. The soil pulsed beneath Arlen's boots, soft and unsettling, as though it was alive. He paused, listening. The forest made no birdcalls, no insect hum—only the whisper of branches creaking like bones grinding together.
They pressed on, reaching a clearing where the crimson mist thickened. Shapes flickered within it—slender, elongated figures that seemed half-real, half-smoke. Arlen froze, sensing their gaze.
Liora stepped forward, blade drawn, her stance defensive but calm. "Don't lose focus. They'll try to get into your head."
The mist figures drifted closer. Their forms twisted into familiar shapes: faces from Duskwood, villagers Arlen had known, their expressions twisted with sorrow and accusation.
"Arlen…" one whispered, a voice like wind through broken glass. "You weren't strong enough… you let us burn…"
Arlen's chest tightened. His Emberflame sputtered as guilt surged through him. The vision of his childhood friends reached out, spectral hands stretching toward him.
> System Notification: Illusion Magic Detected – Willpower Check Initiated
Arlen clenched his teeth. No… you're not real. You're not them. He forced mana into his flame, letting it burn brighter, hotter, until the illusions recoiled. The fire carved a line of light through the mist, breaking their hold.
The voices faded, leaving only silence. Arlen's breathing came heavy, but steadied as Liora placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good. You fought it. Most don't."
Arlen swallowed hard. "If this grove plays on memories… then surviving won't just mean fighting monsters."
"Exactly," Liora said. "It will mean fighting yourself."
They pushed forward once more, the Scarlet Grove tightening around them like a predator waiting to strike. And though Arlen's flame lit the way, shadows pressed in closer, whispering promises of fear, doubt, and secrets better left buried.
The first hour had passed. Twenty-three remained.
The grove deepened into something unnatural. The air grew heavy, thick with the coppery scent of blood that clung to every breath. The ground sloped downward, leading them into a basin where crimson mist pooled like a living sea.
Arlen's flame guttered, its light swallowed faster than it should've been. He frowned, tightening his grip on his staff. "It's feeding on the fire," he whispered.
Liora crouched, touching the soil. When she pulled her hand back, red streaks clung to her fingertips like paint. "Not feeding. Suppressing. This place hates light, hates heat. It's a wound that festers on shadow alone."
The system chimed softly.
> Passive Environmental Effect Detected: Scarlet Suppression – All Fire-based Mana Reduced by 30%.
Arlen winced. His only reliable power had been his Emberflame, and now even that was weakened. Still, he refused to let fear claim him. "Then I'll just have to burn hotter," he muttered.
A sound echoed through the basin—wet, dragging, like claws raking across stone. The mist shifted, parting just enough to reveal a hulking form slithering between the trees.
It was no wolf, no beast Arlen had seen before. Its body was stitched from shadow and sinew, limbs too long, spine jutting out like jagged spears. Its head turned unnaturally, revealing a maw filled with rows of teeth that dripped crimson light.
The system whispered its cold judgment.
> Scarlet Abomination – Rank D+
A creature born from the Grove's curse, a fusion of hatred and memory. It cannot be reasoned with. Only destroyed.
Arlen's knees trembled, but he steadied them. "It's strong," he said quietly. "Stronger than anything I've faced."
Liora's eyes narrowed, her sword humming faintly as runes glowed along its blade. "Then we cut it down together. You focus on the flame. I'll take its strikes."
The beast lunged, faster than its bulk suggested. Liora intercepted, steel clashing against shadowflesh with a screech that split the clearing. Sparks flew. The impact hurled her backward, boots digging furrows into the soil, but she didn't fall.
"Now, Arlen!" she shouted.
Arlen thrust his staff forward, mana surging. The Emberflame roared, fighting the suppression as he shaped it into a spear of fire. With a shout, he launched it straight into the abomination's chest.
The spear struck true—yet instead of burning, the creature absorbed part of the flame. Its maw widened, glowing red, and it howled with a sound that shook the basin.
> Warning: Scarlet Abomination possesses Fire Absorption Trait. Adapt strategy immediately.
Arlen cursed under his breath. His greatest weapon was being turned against him.
The beast swung its clawed arm, tearing through a tree as if it were paper, forcing Arlen to dive aside. The impact rattled his bones, but he scrambled back to his feet.
"Arlen!" Liora shouted, blocking another strike. "Not all fire is the same! Think—your flame is born from will. Use that!"
Her words cut through his panic. He remembered the illusions earlier, how his fire had driven them away not with raw power but with his rejection of despair. The Emberflame wasn't just heat. It was resolve.
Arlen drew a deep breath, grounding himself. His staff thrummed as he channeled his mana inward. The Emberflame kindled—not just brighter, but purer, golden-orange instead of dull red.
The abomination lunged again. Arlen planted his staff and roared, unleashing the flame not as an attack but as a wave of defiance. It expanded outward, clashing with the beast's consuming shadow.
This time, the creature shrieked. Its flesh blistered, not healed. Its maw snapped shut, smoke rising as the flame scorched deeper than before.
Liora grinned sharply. "That's it! Burn its curse, not its body!"
Together, they pressed forward—steel and will-forged fire against shadow and despair.
But even as the abomination faltered, the grove itself stirred, whispers rising from the mist like a chorus of unseen mouths. Arlen felt it clawing at the edges of his mind, promising more horrors yet to come.
The Scarlet Grove would not let them go easily.
And this was only the first guardian.
The grove howled with the abomination, as though the forest itself mourned its wounded child. Crimson mist surged, thickening into tendrils that lashed toward Arlen and Liora, trying to choke the light from their bodies.
Arlen's fire flared in response, his will burning hotter than before. He carved a line of flame between himself and the creature, forcing the shadows back. His staff hummed with every heartbeat, sweat dripping down his brow, but his resolve only sharpened.
"Liora—now!" he shouted.
She answered with steel. Runes blazed across her blade as she dashed forward, her movements a blur. With a roar, she drove her sword into the beast's shoulder, anchoring it in place. The abomination screamed, its unnatural voice rattling the grove, clawing wildly at her. But she held, muscles straining, giving Arlen the opening he needed.
He lifted his staff, calling deep into himself. He thought of Duskwood, of the ashes left behind, of the faces that had haunted him in the mist. He thought of the people he hadn't been able to save—and the ones he still could.
This fire is mine. It won't be consumed. It won't bow to shadows.
The Emberflame surged, not red or orange now but a blinding gold, brighter than any torch or lantern. It gathered at the tip of his staff, condensing into a sphere that pulsed like a beating heart.
The system's voice rang sharp in his ears:
> Unique Skill Awakened: Emberheart Surge
Effect: Condenses will-forged flame into a purifying burst capable of burning through corruption and curse-bound flesh. One use drains 80% of mana reserves.
Arlen didn't hesitate. With a cry, he released the Emberheart Surge.
The golden fire erupted in a torrent, slamming into the abomination. Unlike before, the creature couldn't absorb it. The light cut through shadow and sinew alike, searing not just its flesh but the curse that bound it. Its scream turned ragged, desperate—then broke into silence as its body collapsed into ash and scarlet mist.
For a moment, the grove stilled.
The whispers faded. The mist thinned. The soil beneath them no longer pulsed like a heartbeat.
Liora staggered back, pulling her blade free and breathing hard. She glanced at Arlen, who stood swaying on his feet, drained and pale but still holding his staff. His golden flame dimmed back to a faint ember, flickering but alive.
"You did it," she said softly, awe threading through her exhaustion.
Arlen's lips curved in a weak smile. "We did it."
The system chimed again, not cold this time but almost triumphant.
> Quest Complete: Survive the First Trial of the Scarlet Grove
Reward: Skill Awakened – Emberheart Surge
Additional Reward: 5 Stat Points, 1 Hidden Trait Unlocked
Arlen blinked. "Hidden trait?" he murmured.
A panel unfolded before him.
> Trait Unlocked: Flamebound Soul – Your fire carries the echo of your spirit. Emotional state directly influences flame strength and purity.
He swallowed, staring at the words. It was both a gift and a burden. If his emotions wavered, so too would his power.
Liora sheathed her blade and approached, her eyes steady on him. "This is only the beginning, Arlen. The grove won't let us leave so easily. That was just its first trial."
Arlen nodded, the weight of his awakening settling on his shoulders. He felt stronger, yes—but also bound tighter to the path ahead.
As they pressed deeper into the grove, the whispers returned, softer now, almost curious. The scarlet mist parted just enough to reveal a faint light in the distance—a ruin half-swallowed by roots, glowing faintly with arcane symbols.
The grove had tested them. Now, it was inviting them deeper.
And neither of them could refuse.