I frowned, reading the letter over and over again as I arrived at the island's edge, wading knee-deep in water. But I did’t have time to puzzle it out. Strange skinny trees surrounded me, their thick roots protruding from the water like fingers. Large stones scattered the area, remnants of some long-lost structure.
I’d arrived, and Xelmir—or whoever was waiting here—could strike at any moment.
I adjusted my mask, checking its benefits:
Horned Aegis (Uncommon)
- Effect: Increases defense by 30% and grants a 20% chance to nullify incoming attacks.
- MP Drain: -10 MP every hit
- Durability: 70 / 70
Couldn't hurt being careful. Xelmir might have invited me, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure what awaited me.
I checked my palm's compass symbol, sensing Cronia pulse through my spirit, silent and watchful. Our burnout guage finally returned to zero percent—it had taken days to get there. As I waded forward, excitement sparked remembering that ability. Even a five-second rewind window had proven valuable.
“It'll only get better,” Cronia whispered, voice barely audible as if fearing eavesdroppers.
My heart fluttered. How? I thought back, though I suspected the answer.
“Bonds,” she responded. “The more bonds you make, the better your existing skills become. Plus, you'll gain new ones—more ways to manipulate time.”
I nodded quickly, excited by the prospect, though my heart ached, and I glanced back at the letter. Rosamae… Gone to her homeland for an ill brother. Must have been serious to pull her from her work here.
Next loop, catch that letter before she gets it.
Noted. I straightened, continuing through the knee-high water, Gripjaw swimming beside me in a scintillating motion. Something snapped. I froze, spinning toward one of the tall skinny trees. A leaf drifted down to the water's surface. I narrowed my eyes, peering past the trunk into the dense, shadowed forest. I wished for stronger eyes—I saw nothing, though…I sensed someone watching.
"Xelmir?" My voice seemed to mock the silence. Despite that, I nearly shouted, but hestiated. Would my shout bring…unwanted attention? I let out a harsh breath, hands on hips. Unwanted attention? Heck, I wasn't committing a crime! Just meeting a sketchy Beachstrider involved in some illegal activities, that's all.
Another snap. I spun toward a different tree, only to see Gripjaw biting one of the long roots, wood cracking. I sighed, opening my mouth to speak to the—
Cronia's presence flared. “Watch out!” Something rushed at my head. I ducked and sprinted forward, spinning with raised fists. A figure in dark, form-fitting clothes pointed an obsidian quarterstaff at my face, hood barely concealing a familiar fan-shell mask.
"You!" I staggered back, heart leaping. The man stood motionless, angry carved eyes glaring. Heart pounding, I dropped into one of Kor's stances, fists thrust out, breathing deep.
[Melee Fighter (Weapon: N/A) (2) (Initiate) (67/100)]
[Abilities]
Momentum Strike: Chain attacks for increased damage (+10% per hit, up to 3 hits)
Blade Control: -15% stamina cost for basic attacks
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Side Sweep: A swinging strike meant to trip
[Passive Improvements]
Attack speed +10%
Improved striking accuracy
Smoother attack transitions
Another test. Unless multiple people wore that mask, this was the same man from Kor's training. That should have comforted me, but tension still coiled in my gut. If he was anything like my trainer, he wouldn't hold back—my chest scar proved that. I flicked the horn on my defense mask, grateful for its protection.
The shell-mask man thrust his staff, fluid and precise. I weaved left, barely dodging, and snapped out a foot to knock him off balance. He pulled back, my kick cutting through water. Quick as a mousetrap, his staff swung into my shin. I cried out—more shock than pain—as it swung for my head. I lunged back, splashing and stumbling.
Glancing down, green mist like tightly-woven webs pulsed where the staff struck. My mask pulsed too. I blessed Cronia's name—that would have split bone.
“Blessing my name?” Cronia sounded amused as I backed away, fists up. The masked man held his staff two-handed, studying my shin before meeting my eyes.
“Already accepting me as your goddess?”
"Guess so," I whispered, inching back. "No one else out there helping me like you, so…”
The masked man tore forward, leaving a wake behind him. He swung—I raised an arm to block, but he feinted, pulled back, and thrust the staff's tip toward my neck. I weaved aside just in time, grabbing the staff and pulling. My hand slipped, the surface impossibly slick. A blow cracked across my face. I backpedaled, shaking my head, but he was already charging.
Gripjaw lunged at his head, biting the cloth hood. The man shrieked. I swung a punch, but he spun away, his staff cracking my skull.
[MP: 10/95]
I felt the magical protection cracking—one more hit and—
The quarterstaff swung. I ducked, heat flaring as I screamed and tackled him into the water. He slipped away like a fish, but I grabbed his leg, pulling us together. He kicked free. I shot up, water streaming down my mask.
Suddenly he was gone. The dark water reflected moonlight. Gripjaw had vanished too, spiking panic through me.
"Gripjaw!" I spun searching, heart racing.
“Be calm,” Cronia soothed. “I sense his movements. Don't move—he's swimming behind you, gripping his staff, watching your ankles. I think he means to trip you.”
I nodded, forcing stillness despite my pounding heart. Besides Cronia, Gripjaw was my only real friend. If I lost him… A knot twisted my throat as I fought to obey the goddess.
“When I say jump…”
I nodded, gritting teeth
“Jump!”
I launched up as the staff swept beneath me. Spinning, I activated a move from my melee skill—Side Sweep. My leg snapped out as if pulled by strings, foot cracking against his face. The shell mask flew sideways.
I landed awkwardly on one foot, hopping back as he rose, black hair plastered to his pale skin. I squeezed my fists, activating hydrokinesis—but he planted his staff and raised a hand.
"Enough," he whispered, voice familiar. He swept back his soaked hair and hood, revealing Xelmir's gaunt face. "You pass."
Xelmir.
Unsurprising.
I stood frozen, panting, stamina nearly gone. Hell, I needed to train that—short fights drained me.
"Kor promised you something. I wanted to give it personally." He flicked a folded paper at me. I caught it—an official permit for buying gear. My heart skipped, the golden trident flashing in my mind.
A coin clinked through the air. I caught that too, finding a strange ruin-like symbol carved in the black metal.
"Show that to the shopkeeper," Xelmir said, leaning on his staff, somber. "It'll get you access to exclusive gear…and discounts on overpriced items."
I stared at the coin, questions blooming. "Why all the secrecy?”
Xelmir's smile held no warmth. That was his answer, though I waited, expecting more, wanting more. I wouldn't dare voice my suspicions about his connection to the masked cult leader—that might get me killed.
[Bond Quest: Xelmir]
[Bond Progress: +10/100%]
[Reward: Access to exclusive gear and discounts]
"Keep training," Xelmir said, pulling his staff free. "Keep your eyes open. And when the time comes…be ready to choose a side." He paused. "I'd use that token sooner rather than later. Change is coming, and it waits for no man."
He turned, wading deeper until he vanished completely.
“Ominous,” Cronia said. “We can assume he means the change at the week's end, but that's still days away.”
[Bond Quest: Xelmir]
[The tides are shifting in Wavehaven. Time to make sure you're not left in the shallows.]
[Objective: Acquire gear from the weapon shop using the paper/token Xelmir gave you.]
I still panted, by stamina returning at a snail’s pace. Then, I remembered something—someone. Gripjaw! I searched frantically for him, heart lurching when I spotted him floating nearby.
"Gripjaw!" I splashed over, scooping him up, pressing my ear to his chest. The steady ba-bum, ba-bum brought relief. Silver mist rolled around him, and interface popping up.
[Gripjaw]
[Status: Fainted]
“He'll be fine,” Cronia said.
I let out a shaky breath, hugging him close. After another moment listening to his heartbeat, I looked where Xelmir had disappeared, then toward the city. Just days before the meteor shower. The calm before the storm. I'd been absent last week, avoiding people like the plague. Whatever Xelmir hinted at—whether the meteor shower or something else—I needed to be ready.
I hurried away through the water, and though I yearned to march straight to the weapons shop, that would have to wait for daybreak—because, well, it was closed. First rest, then as soon as it opened, that trident would finally be mine.