The return to Havencrest was fundamentally different. The silence was no longer one of tension, but of shared purpose.
They were no longer a Herald and her F-rank charge; they were co-conspirators, a two-person insurrection against reality itself.
It was a terrifying thought, but Elara found it strangely liberating.
Their first stop wasn't for boots or a meal. It was the Hunter's Guild.
When they walked in, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to their last visit. The whispers weren't of mockery, but of fear and awe.
Borin, the grizzled Guild master, nearly fell off his stool when he saw them.
"You're... alive," he stammered, his one good eye wide.
"Disappointed?" Zane asked, his tone light.
"Rylan's beacon went dark," Borin said, gesturing to a large, enchanted map of the region hanging on the wall. A single light, marked with the Azure Blade's insignia, had been extinguished. "We all assumed... the Rift-Stalker..."
"The Rift-Stalker has been dealt with," Elara stated, her voice carrying the clear, confident authority of her rank. "There were... complications."
It was a vague but decisive statement, closing the matter.
Zane leaned against the counter, adopting a casual air that was now far more menacing than his previous indifference. "We're not here to file a report. We're here for information."
Borin swallowed hard. "Information is a commodity, son."
"I know," Zane said. He reached into his pouch and placed the Soul Remnant—the shimmering, gray pearl from the Ashen Crypt—on the counter. "And this is my currency."
The Guild went silent.
The hunters closest to the counter leaned in, their eyes wide.
A purified Soul Remnant was a legend, a mythical ingredient. Its value wasn't measured in gold, but in favors from archmages and master artificers.
To see one placed on a grubby counter in a backwater town was like seeing a king's crown used as a paperweight.
Borin stared at the pearl, his breath catching in his throat. "What... what do you want to know?"
"The Silent Library," Zane said, his voice low and clear. "Or anything related to The First Architect. Old maps. Records from before the System stabilized. Rumors. Anything."
Borin's face paled. He shook his head, looking genuinely frightened. "That's not just information, son. That's a death sentence. 'First Architect' is a forbidden phrase. Even knowing who to ask is dangerous."
"Which is why I'm asking you," Zane said patiently. "And why I'm paying with this."
He tapped the Soul Remnant. "A 'get out of jail free' card for whatever trouble this conversation causes you."
The old Guild master wrestled with himself, torn between mortal terror and the kind of greed that could define a man's entire legacy. Finally, greed won.
He leaned forward, his voice a barely audible whisper.
"I don't know anything about a 'library'. But... if you're looking for forbidden knowledge, for things that the System wants forgotten... there's only one place to go."
"Where?" Elara pressed.
"The Sunken City of Oakhaven," Borin whispered.
"It was the center of learning before the Cataclysm, before the System. A city of scholars and librarians. When the world broke, the entire city was submerged.
They say its archives are still down there, perfectly preserved in flooded, magically-sealed vaults.
But it's a deathtrap. Guarded by ancient constructs and warped by raw, untamed magic.
They call it the 'Graveyard of Knowledge'."
AURA's voice was a swift, silent confirmation in Zane's mind.
[Analysis: Cross-referencing with fragmented pre-System data. Oakhaven. A hub of academia and theoretical magic. High probability of containing texts related to The Architect's designs or the Primal Script. Location: The Great Midland Loch. Status: Uncharted and extremely hazardous.]
"How do we get there?" Zane asked.
"You don't," Borin said flatly.
"But if you were crazy enough to try, you'd need a guide. A relic hunter. Someone who knows the old ways and isn't afraid of the Sanctum's prohibitions."
He scribbled something on a piece of parchment.
"There's a man. Calls himself 'Silas', though I doubt that's his real name. He operates out of the port city of Meridian. A smuggler of forbidden artifacts. If anyone can get you into the Sunken City, it's him. Show him this."
He slid the parchment over. It bore a single, complex rune.
Zane looked at the rune, then at the Soul Remnant. He pushed the pearl towards Borin. "A fair trade."
Borin snatched it up as if afraid it would vanish, tucking it away with trembling hands. "Get out of my Guild," he rasped. "And don't come back. This conversation never happened."
They left the Guild, stepping back out into the dreary rain. They now had a destination. A path.
"Meridian," Elara said, the name tasting of salt and possibility. "It's on the other side of the continent. A long journey."
"Good," Zane replied, looking up at the gray sky. "I need a new pair of boots anyway."
As they walked towards the stables to purchase passage, Zane felt a subtle shift in the air, a faint distortion that only he could perceive. It was the echo of a high-level observation spell, dissipating.
Someone had been watching them. Someone powerful.
He glanced at a nearby rooftop. For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw a silhouette—a slender figure in dark, form-fitting leather, who seemed to melt back into the rain-soaked tiles and vanish.
The figure felt... familiar.
AURA noted calmly.
[Analysis: Systemic Anomaly detected and vanished. Signature matches Subject Nyx, the Silent Assassin. Probability of her presence being related to Rylan's disappearance: 92%. She may be an enemy, or a potential, albeit dangerous, ally.]
Zane said nothing to Elara.
One ghost at a time was more than enough.