Night fell over the Whispering Canyons like a heavy curtain. The red stone turned a deep, bruised purple, and the wind—previously a murmur—began to keen with a sharper, colder edge.
They found shelter in a shallow alcove carved into the cliff face, protected from the wind but open to the sliver of star-filled sky above.
Silas sat with his back against the cold stone, the small campfire casting long, flickering shadows. Elara was asleep—or pretending to be—wrapped in the bedroll on the other side of the fire.
Silas wasn't sleeping. He was working.
He held the four Echo Glands he had harvested from the Stalkers. They were wet, fleshy sacs that pulsed rhythmically, reacting to the heat of the fire.
[SYSTEM: MERCHANT'S EXCHANGE]
He swiped his hand through the air. The spectral interface shimmered into existence. Unlike the combat menu, which was stark and urgent, the Shop interface was ornate. It looked like the interior of a high-stakes lounge, complete with a holographic dealer who shuffled a deck of golden cards.
[SELL: 4x ECHO GLANDS] [OFFER: 200 GOLD]
"Deal," Silas whispered.
The glands in his hand dissolved into motes of gold light, which flowed into his chest.
[CURRENT FUNDS: 360 GOLD]
He had money. Now, he needed power.
He scrolled through the "Daily Rotation." The System Shop changed its stock every 24 hours, mimicking the fickleness of luck.
Mana Potion (High Quality): 100 Gold.
Iron-Skin Oil: 50 Gold.
Card: 7 of Clubs (The Sledge): 1,500 Gold. (Too expensive).
Silas sighed. He couldn't afford new cards. But his eyes drifted to the bottom of the menu. The "Blind Bet."
It was a small, black velvet bag icon with a question mark embroidered in silver thread.
[ITEM: THE JOKER'S POCKET] [COST: 300 GOLD] [DESCRIPTION: Contains one random item, skill book, or consumable. Rates: Common (60%), Rare (30%), Epic (9%), Legendary (1%).] [WARNING: HOUSE DOES NOT OFFER REFUNDS.]
It was a gamble. He should save the gold for potions. He should be prudent.
But Silas was the Card Sovereign. Prudence was a learned behavior; gambling was in his DNA.
"One pull," he muttered.
He selected the bag. His gold counter plummeted to 60.
A spectral animation played out in the air—a pair of skeletal hands shaking the velvet bag, then upending it.
A single, leather-bound book fell out, solidifying into reality on his lap.
[CONGRATULATIONS!] [RESULT: RARE SKILL BOOK] [SKILL: PASSIVE - DEAD MAN'S GRIP] [EFFECT: Your weapon (Cards) cannot be forcibly removed from your hand. Grip strength increased by 200%.]
Silas ran his hand over the leather cover. It wasn't a fireball. It wasn't a shield. It was a utility passive.
Useful, he thought. If Krell had tried to wrestle the card from me, this would have broken his wrist.
He crushed the book. It turned into white energy and absorbed into his skin. A tingling sensation rushed through his forearms, the muscles knitting tighter, denser.
"Shopping?"
Silas didn't flinch. He knew she was awake.
Elara sat up, the blanket pooling around her waist. Her hair was a mess of crimson tangles. She looked at the lingering glow of the System interface.
"You bought a passive," she observed, her eyes narrowing. "Boring. I was hoping for a flamethrower."
"Dead men can't use flamethrowers," Silas said, closing the menu. "I need consistency, Elara. The 'Flashy' stuff costs too much mana."
"Consistency," she scoffed, crawling toward the fire. "That's the word old men use to describe their fear of death."
She picked up a stick and poked the embers. "You felt it again, didn't you? The Beacon."
Silas stiffened. The Karma Debt was sitting at 3%. It was low, but the psychic echo from the Hearts card was different. It was a stain.
"The stars looked wrong," Silas admitted. "Back on the Flats."
"They were looking at you," Elara said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The Void doesn't just want to kill you, Silas. It wants to play. It remembers when you used to sit at the high table."
She reached out, grabbing his wrist—the one he had just upgraded.
"Let go," Silas said.
"Make me."
She squeezed. Her strength was surprising, enhanced by her own witch-blood. But Silas flexed his hand.
[PASSIVE ACTIVATED: DEAD MAN'S GRIP]
His muscles locked like steel cables. He didn't squeeze back; he simply became immovable. Elara frowned, applying more pressure, trying to bend his wrist, to force his hand open.
It was like trying to bend a crowbar.
She released him, rubbing her own hand. She looked impressed.
"Better," she purred. "Harder."
SCREEEEE—THOOM.
The ground jumped.
It wasn't a tremor. It was an impact.
Silas and Elara froze. The playfulness vanished from Elara's face, replaced by the sharp, predatory focus of the Witch.
"That wasn't a Stalker," Silas whispered.
He scrambled to the edge of the alcove, peering out into the canyon.
The moon was high now, illuminating the canyon floor in stark relief.
About a mile down the winding path, something was moving. It was massive. It filled the width of the canyon pass.
It looked like a Wyvern, but wrong. Its wings were tattered, leaking a dark, viscous fluid. Its head was encased in a geometric helm of bone that looked suspiciously like the Diamond Suit visual effects.
[SYSTEM WARNING] [BOSS ENTITY DETECTED] [NAME: THE CRYSTAL-GORGE TYRANT] [LEVEL: 22] [STATUS: CORRUPTED (SYSTEM FRAGMENT)]
"A System Fragment," Silas hissed.
"What?" Elara crowded in beside him.
"That thing... it swallowed a card," Silas realized, horror dawning on him. "Or a piece of one. That's why it's mutated."
The Tyrant opened its maw and let out a roar that shook dust from the ceiling of their alcove. The roar rippled with a crystalline resonance.
"It's blocking the path," Elara noted grimly. "We can't go around. The walls are sheer."
Silas checked his stats.
Mana: 100/100.
Gold: 60.
Debt: 3%.
Best Cards: 3 of Spades (Lethal), 4 of Diamonds (Reflect), 5 of Clubs (Gravity), 6 of Hearts (Trauma), Jack of Diamonds (Illusion - Locked by Cost).
"We have to kill it," Silas said. "If we try to sneak past, it will smell the mana on me."
"A Level 22 Boss," Elara licked her lips, her hand drifting to her knife. "Against a Level 5 Bartender and a depowered Witch."
She looked at him, eyes gleaming.
"This is going to be expensive, Silas."
Silas gripped the edge of the rock, his new passive skill digging grooves into the stone.
"I know," he said. "Get your knife ready. I'm going to need to draw a straight."
A/N: I hope you enjoy this novel. Support by adding to your library and giving a power stone or two. Thank you.