The world seemed to have frozen. In Noah's vision, the dark marble sphere had completely dissolved, absorbed into his skin like ink into water. The blue translucent windows hovered steadily before his eyes, unaffected by his blinking.
'What is this?' Noah thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. 'A hallucination?'
[NEGATIVE. I AM THE ECHOES SYSTEM, THE ARCHIVE OF ALL THAT HAS FALLEN.]
The voice wasn't human. It sounded like a thousand whispers layered into one, echoing directly inside his mind.
'The Echoes System? What do you want from me?' Noah asked mentally, trying to maintain his composure while Lance watched him with a confused expression.
[YOU HAVE THE COMPATIBILITY TO BECOME THE VESSEL. I STORE THE REMNANTS OF SOULS, POWERS, AND MEMORIES. THROUGH ME, YOU SHALL INHERIT WHAT THE WORLD HAS FORGOTTEN.]
'Inherit? You mean I can take the powers of the dead?'
[CORRECT. AS THE HOST, YOU CAN EXTRACT AND EQUIP THE "ECHOES" OF THOSE WHO ONCE HELD GREATNESS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW YOUR CURRENT STATUS?]
'Show me,' Noah commanded.
Immediately, a more detailed window expanded, displaying his information in a sharp, crystalline font.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Noah von Astora
Title: Baron of Astora / Successor of the Echoes
Realm: Unranked
Mana: 9/10
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: 8
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 15
Vitality: 9
[ECHOES EQUIPPED: 0/1] [ACTIVE SKILLS: None] [PASSIVE SKILLS: Echo Sight (Rank F)]
Noah stared at the numbers. He was weak, barely a step above a common peasant in terms of physical strength. But before he could ask another question, the sound of a horse shattered the silence.
"My lord! MY LORD!"
Noah looked up. Layton was racing toward the fields on an old, gasping horse; His face was pale with terror.
"Layton? What happened?" Noah shouted, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword.
"Bandits, my lord!" Layton gasped, "A large group... they've crossed the eastern border! They are burning the granaries and heading for the main village! They are killing anyone who resists!"
Noah's blood ran cold. The eastern granaries held the food that was supposed to last them through the winter. Without it, the Barony would starve.
"Lance!" Noah turned to the Captain, his eyes flashing with a new, cold determination. "Go! Ring the bell in the town square. Gather every man who can hold a spear. I don't care if they are retired or barely grown—if they want to eat this winter, they must fight today!"
"But my lord, we only have twenty trained guards," Lance protested, his voice tight. "The bandits are likely deserters from the war. They are ruthless."
"Then we will be more ruthless than them," Noah replied, mounting his horse in one swift motion. "Go! Now!"
Minutes later, the peaceful atmosphere of the barony was replaced by the frantic tolling of the bell. In the dusty square, Noah stood before a ragtag group of twenty men. Some wore rusted chainmail, others held nothing but sharpened pitchforks. They looked frightened, their eyes darting toward the columns of black smoke rising from the horizon.
"Men of Astora!" Noah's voice rang out, louder and firmer than anyone had ever heard it. "Today they come for our bread. Tomorrow they come for our lives. I will not hide behind my walls while you bleed. Follow me, and we will show them that even a dying barony has teeth!"
As they rode toward the smoke, the bandits came into view—about thirty men, laughing as they tossed torches onto thatched roofs.
[NOTIFICATION: FIRST COMBAT DETECTED.] [MISSION GENERATED: PROTECT THE BARONY.]
Noah drew his sword. The blade was rusty and dull, but as he faced the charging bandits, his eyes were fixed on the target. The battle for Astora was about to begin.