Elian stared at the ruin in silence. Awe creeped into his face as he looked at the towering structures and massive pillars. His mind drifted with questions. Was this the place where gods and goddesses once lived before the Ashfall, or the remains of some ancient civilization that lived alongside them in that long gone era?
He scanned the area, searching for any sign of other children or monsters. But the place was empty and quiet. Yet he didn't relax. His grip on the sword was still firm.
Then, he began moving slowly to make his way toward the ruin, each step measured and cautious because deep down he was sure that a place like this had to hold a Relic, and if he wanted it he had to reach it before anyone else did.
He crept from one broken wall to the next, always keeping cover and checking his surroundings. Until finally he stood before the main entrance. It was an arch that was so tall it was clearly not built for human size.
Drawing a breath, he stepped inside. The small orange glow from his chest crystal casting faint light against the endless dark, but the space was so vast that the light could barely reach the distant walls.
Then, he heard a sound. Faint voices echoing from deeper inside.
Is it human? He wasn't sure.
They could be survivors like him, or abominations like that boy from before, wearing someone else's skin.
Still, he moved toward the voices slowly and silently, keeping close to the walls of the ruin. Black stone cold under his fingers as he edged forward.
Eventually, he saw them.
Five figures gathered under the glow of their orange chest crystals. Three men, and one woman. Their lights danced across the ancient stone and the ground-covered ash as they crowded around something.
Elian turned off his own light and narrowed his eyes.
In the center of the group, a soft white glow pulsed faintly. The light was pure and steady, not corrupted. Even from where he crouched, Elian could feel it.
That was no ordinary object.
That… could be a Relic.
Elian swallowed hard. His breath caught in his throat. He needed that Relic—he had to get it for himself!
But how? Charging into a group of five was suicide. Even if they were just children like him, they could still kill him without much effort with their number.
A darker thought crept into his mind like poison. "Should I wait and stalk them until a monster shows up and weakens them? Then kill the survivor once it's over?"
He clenched his jaw. That wasn't how he wanted to think but this was how he was living in the slums and the reality of the Grave Realm. The rules here were different. Morals cracked like old bones under pressure.
But then he felt something off.
The five figures hadn't moved. They just stood there in complete silence. Their faces turned toward the glowing object like statues frozen in place. No one speaks or reacting—just staring.
Elian narrowed his eyes. That wasn't normal.
"Is it the power of the Relic?" he thought. "Is it… doing something to them?"
He decided to wait. His instincts were whispering warnings he couldn't ignore again.
Then the silence broke.
"It's mine," one of the figures said. She was a girl, by the shape of her voice. Her tone was cold and final. The kind of voice that didn't accept disagreement.
"What the fuck do you mean yours?" a boy snapped. His voice sharp and angry, but equally hollow.
"I touched it first," another boy said, his tone strangely flat, almost like he was sleep-talking.
"You touched nothing, liar," the girl hissed back, no emotion in her voice except for quiet hostility.
They were all talking, but not in the way normal people argued. There was no rise in emotion, no desperation, no fear or panic. Just low cold voices. Each one of them delivered their claim like it was the only truth that mattered.
It was like they were all speaking under a shared trance—compelled by something.
Still crouched in the shadows, Elian watched, his heart pounding.
Something was wrong with them. He had the terrible feeling that whatever it was, it came from the glowing object in the center.
The argument stretched on for a full minute. The voices growing louder and more frayed.
The five children circled the glowing object with narrowed eyes and clenched fists. Their breathing sharp and erratic.
Then one of them, a thin boy with dark hair drew his sword with a scraping hiss, the steel catching the edge of the white light.
The others flinched but didn't back down. Instead, as if pulled by the same invisible thread, they also reached for their weapons.
One by one the blades came free of their scabbards with trembling hands. Their faces contorted with fury and madness.
They stood in a broken circle with blades raised. Their bodies twitching uncontrollably and their shoulders heaving as breath came too fast.
Their mouths curled in snarls.
"Grrrrh…" One of them let out a sound that was almost a growl.
Another stepped forward, eyes locked onto the boy next to him with blank rage. The Relic still pulsing quietly behind them.
Elian's eyes widened from the shadows, his pulse thudding in his ears.
Then chaos exploded.
The five children lunged at each other at the same time. Swords swinging, screaming, and clashing in a flurry of violence that looks desperate.
Sparks burst as blades met blades. They didn't fight with technique. They fought like animals who were driven only by instinct and madness.
One girl screamed as a sword cut into her body. Another one of the men howled in pain as a blade slammed deep into his shoulder.
Blood sprayed across the black stone. None of them hesitated or decided to ran. They fought like they couldn't stop themselves.
Like something made them fight.
Elian feels more terrified now. He just sees for himself that a Relic wasn't just some piece they have to find to gain power. It can also corrupt them.
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