Chapter 7: Secret Lotus
Driscoll woke with a start, breath catching as the afternoon buzz grew outside.
The inn room was dim, save for a sliver of early light slicing through the wooden shutters. Dust floated lazily in the glow, disturbed only by the rise and fall of his chest. Somewhere downstairs, a floorboard creaked—too deliberate to be the wind, not urgent enough to be threat.
He sat up slowly, muscles sore, spine popping in protest. Despite the game-like world, pain was still real here. Especially when you lived like he did—on edge and surrounded by mystery.
[System Notification: Rested | HP/MP Recovered | Passive Regen Reenabled]
He rubbed the back of his neck and swung his feet onto the cold floor. The wooden planks were rough underfoot.
"Should have found a better quality inn," he muttered.
Just like the need to eat resting was necessary to prevent obtaining a negative ailment. Within the bounds of the beginner village, logging out removed your body completely from the game world. It was clean, safe, and temporary.
But outside?
Once you passed beyond the enchanted boundary protecting this low-tier settlement, logging out left your body behind, comatose, vulnerable. You could be robbed. Assulted. Even killed. If the place wasn't marked secure—like an inn, sanctuary, or magical circle—your character entered a true vegetative state.
Most called it sleep-walking mode.
Driscoll's eyes narrowed.
Reaching level 10 in a single night was unheard of. Even in the most optimized speed runs of his past life, such progress would've been ridiculed as impossible—unless you had a dev team feeding you gear.
But now?
Now he had a secret most players never would.
Divine Favor.
It canceled the Asura's notorious curse of double experience requirement. With it gone, the bloodline's terrifying growth potential could bloom unhindered.
Driscoll flexed his fingers. Even without pulling up his status window, he could feel it—raw power humming in his veins. His strength stat had doubled, and his agility let him move like a blur if he chose. Still, the rush came with something else… a whisper of instability beneath the surface. A hunger.
That damn sword.
[Cursed Blade: Ravenous Edge – Dormant Hunger Detected]
Cravings suppressed… for now.
He pushed the message aside, then stood and began dressing. His equipment shimmered faintly as he activated minor enchantments: self-lacing boots, temperature-adjusting undershirt, and a utility belt with built-in pocket space. No flashy armor. He preferred subtle—threatening only when needed.
Downstairs, the tavern's common room was quieter than usual. Only a few Natives sat around, sipping tea or discussing the latest harvest issues. No other players. No glowing names. No one to see him.
Just the way he liked it.
A warm breeze carried the scent of bread, earth, and wood smoke. Somewhere nearby, a child laughed. Blacksmith hammers rang in the distance. The beginner village was alive… but not yet awakened. No one knew a monster had already grown in its midst.
He needed to wrap up a few loose ends.
But first, the hidden shop.
Driscoll vanished down a side street, slipping between two old buildings, where the shadows felt too still and the walls too warm. The sigil appeared again—a faint triangle etched in red above the doorframe.
He knocked in the rhythm she'd shown him.
Once.
Twice.
Once again.
The door opened.
[Native Identified: Lysaria – Shop Keeper | Origin: Unknown | Inspection Incomplete: Tier Too High]
Lysaria stood just as poised as before, her robes untouched by dust, her violet eyes watching him like he were some rare artifact rather than a man. A scent like star-anise and iron drifted from within the shop—magical residue from old contracts, maybe.
"You came. Good." Her voice was softer this time. Measured. She motioned toward the back, where curtains parted without touch.
"You did say you had something for me," Driscoll said, stepping inside. The magic in the air tugged gently at the hem of his coat, like a welcome or a warning.
"A proposition, rather," she said, gliding behind a curved obsidian counter. "Soon, you will pass beyond this village, your level qualifying you to enter the wider world. But what awaits isn't a gentle transition. For most, the memory of this place vanishes upon crossing the threshold—forgotten as though it never existed."
She traced a finger along the counter's edge, gaze distant. "When the World Council prepared this realm, I was returning home… and found myself trapped by the barrier sealing the beginner zones. No one can leave unless permitted by higher design. However, there may be a loophole."
She raised her eyes to meet his. "A relic. During the great collision, it was torn from my essence—still tethered, but distant. Retrieve it for me. Return it, and I will be released from this prison. Do that… and I will grant you something few in this world possess—a way to leave this village and still remember the truth of it."
Driscoll didn't answer right away. He already knew that players would forget how to return to the beginner village once they left. This was to prevent higher tier players from bullying the weak. The system didn't warn players about memory loss. Most wouldn't notice or care until it was too late.
"What's the catch?" he asked.
"No catch," Lysaria said, her lips curling ever so slightly. "Only a path."
She placed a scroll on the counter, wrapped in starlit string. The moment his fingers brushed it, the system responded.
[Hidden Quest Received: Remnant of the Eternal Vein]
Quest Type: Unique Chain | Origin: Unknown
Difficulty: ★★★★☆
Description: Retrieve the fractured relic linked to the vault keeper Lysaria. Its presence distorts reality and is guarded by a corrupted ancient order.
Quest Location: Aelriun Kingdom, Valley of Shifting Echoes
Objective: Locate and obtain the Relic of the Vault
Optional Objective: Uncover the truth of Lysaria's origin
Reward:
• Access to Vaults Beyond the Beginner Realm
• Memory Seal Immunity (As Chosen one this reward is null)
• ???
Failure to return the relic will render the vault inaccessible forever.
Driscoll narrowed his eyes at the text next to "immunity." Another hidden trait of being the chosen one is revealed. He could come and go as he pleased not affected by the barrier erasing the path back to this region.
Before he could speak again, [Foreshadow] suddenly flared.
[Foreshadow Triggered – Conditional Prophecy Revealed]
If the vault keeper becomes pregnant with your child, her tether to this zone will break, allowing her to leave regardless of relic retrieval.
Additional note: Any child born of this union will carry a dormant trait—[Paragon Seed]—triggering hidden destinies in both parents.
The notification flickered and vanished before he could fully process it.
He glanced at Lysaria. She tilted her head as if sensing something, but said nothing.
"Those rewards are a bit underwhelming, considering the scale of what you're asking," Driscoll said, arms crossed.
"Underwhelming? Few would dare scoff at such a rare opportunity—to defy the memory seal, return here at will, recruit allies, establish a legacy…"
"I can already do all that," he interrupted. "The memory seal doesn't affect me. I'm the Chosen One. The only thing missing is a reward worth my time. I could finish this quest right here—if you made it worth my while."
Lysaria blinked once. Slowly. Then her gaze sharpened.
"…So that's what you are," she said softly, folding her hands beneath her sleeves. "Then let me offer something more… appropriate."
With a motion of her hand, a second scroll appeared from beneath the counter, this one bound in silken crimson threads. It shimmered faintly with a protective glyph—one that pulsed in time with Driscoll's heartbeat.
"This," she said, "is a guild creation token."
Driscoll's brow lifted slightly. "I already have a plan to receive this outside the village."
"Not like this one," Lysaria replied. "This token is unranked. Pure. Forged before the modern restrictions of the World Council. It holds an ancient protocol—one only a few still remember. If you engrave your guild's crest onto this token before submitting it to the town hall, the system will recognize your mark as a divine imprint. It will be immutable… protected from forgeries or hostile takeovers. The moment you finalize it, your guild will gain bonuses based on your origin, vision, and fate."
She stepped closer. Her voice lowered. "Do this right, and your guild will never be seen as common rabble. You will be given land, station…"
She paused, then added, "Separately, when you visit the Lotus Auction House, your name will be marked in the ledger of Matrons."
Driscoll blinked.
"…You're with the Lotus Auction House?" he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
"I am the Matron," she said coolly. "Or I was—before this cursed seal trapped me here. The Vault is only one facet of what I've built across kingdoms. Kings have paid dearly for my favor. You would be wise not to underestimate what that means."
That explained the poise. The robes. The impossibly rare gear.
It also explained the pressure she had masked until now—the subtle aura that brushed against his senses like velvet-wrapped steel.
Driscoll's lips twitched. "Now that sounds like a proper reward."
She gave a single nod. "Then we have an accord."
[Quest Updated: Remnant of the Eternal Vein]
Bonus Reward Added: Guild Creation Token [Ancient Variant]
Bonus Reward Added: Patronage of the Lotus Auction House – High Station Unlocked
Lysaria may now serve as faction contact and benefactor once freed.
He tucked them both away carefully.
"Now tell this one how you can free me so quickly," Lysaria said, her tone curious but reserved.
Driscoll met her gaze. "There's another way. One I didn't expect. My talent—Foreshadow—it revealed somewhat of a blessing that comes with being a chosen one."
Lysaria's eyes narrowed slightly. "Go on."
"If you were to carry my child," he said, voice low but unwavering, "the tether binding you to this village would break. You'd be free, with or without that relic."
She went still, violet eyes shimmering faintly. The air thickened around them.
"You're certain of this?"
"The prophecy was clear. Any child of mine would carry a dormant trait—a Paragon Seed. It would awaken hidden destinies in both you and the child."
Lysaria tilted her head, lips parting slightly in contemplation. "Fate never lacks a sense of irony. To be trapped here… and offered freedom through creation."
Driscoll nodded. "It's not a demand. Just a truth. What you choose to do with it is yours."
For a moment, the shop was silent.
Then Lysaria stepped forward, her aura pulsing faintly. "Perhaps the divine has more plans for you than I dared imagine."
And as her violet eyes lingered on him, there was something unspoken between them. A knowing. A pull.
They stood inches apart. Her fingers brushed his cheek. "To be offered freedom through creation…" she murmured.
Driscoll's lips met hers.
The kiss was slow at first—testing, tasting—but it deepened quickly, urgency rising like the tide. Robes fell. Boots thudded softly. The arcane lights dimmed with each breath they stole from one another.
Her body was heat and silk beneath his hands. She arched into him, her breath hitching as his fingers traced every line carved by time and secrecy. His lips found the hollow of her throat, then lower still, where her pulse danced beneath magic-slick skin. Her nails left glowing marks across his back, and the room trembled with their joined aura.
As their bodies moved in rhythm, something ancient awakened. Her voice, once soft, broke into a whimper—laced with power—as her climax ripped through the veil.
Light burst forth—not from the arcane lamps, but from within her. It exploded like glass shattering under pressure. The glamour she wore like a second skin melted away in waves of starlight and silver fire.
Her true form emerged: eight celestial tails unfurled with a brilliance that bathed the room, her silver hair glowing like threads of moonlight. Her eyes turned luminous pink with vertical slits, and arcane markings bloomed across her skin in elegant, swirling patterns that pulsed with divine energy. She was breathtaking—otherworldly.
Lysaria, matron of the Celestial Fox Clan, stood revealed—body still trembling, lips parted as she looked upon him not with shock, but acceptance… and something dangerously close to longing.
[Divine Favor Triggered: Kiss of the Velvet Rose]
You have revealed the true identity of a Celestial Fox Matron through divine intimacy.
Hidden lineage confirmed. Bond with the Paragon Seed recognized.
New Status Effect: Bound Flame – Lysaria (Stage I)
Affection Deepened
Divine Flame recognized – You may now access Celestial Fox Heritage Blessings
Hidden Quest Triggered: Tails of the Forgotten Flame – Assist Lysaria in awakening her lost heritage and obtain her nine tails.
[Duration of Childbirth: 112 Days]
[Bloodline Fragment Absorbed – Celestial Fox (Dormant)]
Charm +10
Spirit +10
New Skill Awakened: Foxfire Embrace – Summon ethereal foxfire to burn enemies or shield allies, scaling with charm and intelligence.
Passive: Fox's Guile – 5% chance to evade fatal damage, leaving behind an afterimage of foxfire.
Passive: Alluring Presence – Enemies of lower charm resistances are 10% more likely to falter or hesitate when facing you.
Temporary Buff – Shared Flame (Active until childbirth)
Aura amplified: +10% to charm-based effects and social influence.
Resistance to mental control +15%.
Bonded flame link allows you to sense Lysaria's emotional state at any distance.
Lysaria lowered her gaze to her glowing hands, taking in the return of her markings. When her eyes turned once more to him, they shone with dignified awe.
"Eight," she said quietly, the word heavier than steel. "No one in generations has awakened more than seven. Not even among the eldest."
Her voice held no trembling. No confusion. Only composed wonder, and perhaps… resolve.
"This changes everything. Not just for me. For the clan. For the world that has long forgotten what we once were."
She stepped forward and lifted her chin slightly, regal, composed. "You have unraveled bindings older than kings. And for that… I owe you far more than I can yet offer."
Long ago, before kingdoms etched borders into stone and steel, the Celestial Fox Clan reigned as divine emissaries between realms. Born from the union of moonlight and sacred flame, they were neither beast nor god—but something in between. For every tail they gained, another veil of cosmic truth was lifted.
Two tails marked a blessed child.
Three meant mastery over elemental fire.
Five denoted a clan matron or a recognized divine priestess.
Seven were only seen once every few centuries—heralds of prophecy and calamity.
Eight had never been recorded since the fall of the Celestial Archive.
Each tail unlocked power, but also memory—ancestral echoes layered in divine resonance. With the awakening of her eighth tail, Lysaria now stood on the precipice of transcending mortality. She was no longer just a noble fox—she was something approaching a stellar guardian, a being whose flames could cleanse entire bloodlines or reignite lost realms.
This revelation would not remain hidden long. Already, across distant kingdoms, the Celestial Dreaming—a sacred subconscious shared among the most attuned foxkin—would ripple with the truth. Matrons would stir. Rivals would rise. And those ancient enough to remember the flame-blood war would begin to whisper…
"The eighth has awakened after so many generations."
Then, with a faint smile, Lysaria added, "But know this, Driscoll. You've just placed yourself on the path of legends. And legends are always watched. Closely."