Kintu Baganda sprinted through the dense forest, his breath steady and determined, the leaves rustling in the early morning breeze. The white arrow that had appeared in his vision guided him like a beacon, pointing him toward his next destination. The system's calm voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of the recent battle and suggesting that perhaps it was time to upgrade his gear. After all, he was now a man of considerable means, thanks to the queen's unexpected generosity. The thought of spending his newfound wealth on better equipment seemed like a wise decision.
As he approached the outskirts of the next town, he noticed something unusual. The streets were eerily quiet, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle that one would expect in a thriving settlement. The buildings, though intact, seemed lifeless, their windows dark and their doors closed. A cold chill ran down Kintu's spine as he slowed his pace, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of life.
The town looked abandoned.
Kintu's curiosity got the better of him, and he made his way through the empty streets, his footsteps echoing off the cobblestone. The only movement came from the occasional gust of wind that stirred the dust on the ground. He knew he had to find answers, and the best place to start would be the local hunters' guild, a place where information was always in abundance.
He soon arrived at the guildhall, a sturdy building that, unlike the rest of the town, showed signs of recent activity. The wooden sign above the door creaked as it swayed in the wind, but the interior was warmly lit, offering a stark contrast to the desolate streets outside.
Kintu pushed open the door and stepped inside. The hall was cozy, with several tables arranged neatly around the room. Despite the welcoming atmosphere, there were no hunters in sight, just a single figure seated behind a wooden counter.
The receptionist was a stunning woman, her beauty almost out of place in the lonely town. Her long, auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that was both kind and knowing. Her eyes, a deep shade of green, sparkled with a mix of curiosity and warmth. As Kintu approached the counter, she greeted him with a bright smile.
"Welcome to The Hollow Rose, a Relic Hunters' Guild. My name is Roseanne Stonebrook. How can I assist you today?" she asked, her voice melodious.
Kintu nodded politely, taking in her appearance before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you, Roseanne. I could not help but notice that the town seems… empty. What happened here?"
Roseanne's smile faded slightly, and she sighed, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It used to be a thriving relic hunters' town," she explained, "but ever since Arnos found the last relic, people started leaving. They lost hope, I suppose. Now, only a few of us remain— the mayor, the blacksmith, a few stubborn townspeople, and me."
The mention of Arnos sent a surge of anger through Kintu, though he kept his expression neutral. Arnos. The man who had betrayed him, who had left him for dead in that cave. The thought of the cowardly traitor filled him with a burning rage, but he knew better than to let it show. Instead, he took a deep breath and forced a smile.
"That's unfortunate," Kintu said, his voice steady. "I was hoping to purchase some survival gear. Could you direct me to the blacksmith?"
Roseanne nodded and pointed toward a dark corner of the room. "He's over there," she said, her tone soft. "But be warned, he is usually drunk. It has been hard on him since everyone left."
Kintu followed her gaze and spotted the blacksmith slumped over a table, an empty tankard in his hand. The man was small, even by dwarf standards, his long beard stained with ale. Despite his disheveled appearance, there was a certain strength in the way he held himself, a reminder of the craftsmanship he was capable of.
Kintu approached him with measured steps, recognizing the need for respect. "Excuse me, sir," he began, his tone respectful. "I would like to purchase some survival gear."
The blacksmith jolted awake, blinking in surprise. He quickly straightened up, a wide grin spreading across his face as he took in Kintu's presence. "Pleased to meet you!" he exclaimed, his voice booming. "Name's Rurik Ironhand, finest blacksmith in these parts!"
Kintu could not help but be taken aback by Rurik's sudden shift in demeanor. The man went from a slouching drunk to an eager craftsman in the blink of an eye. "You've caught me at a good time," Rurik continued, his enthusiasm palpable. "I have just what you need! Give me thirty minutes, and I will have my best gear ready for you at my shop."
Before Kintu could respond, Rurik was already on his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes and heading out the door, whistling a cheerful tune as he went. Kintu watched him go, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. Rurik's friendly nature was both surprising and refreshing.
"Seems like you made a good impression," Roseanne commented, her smile returning.
Kintu turned back to her; his expression thoughtful. "He's certainly… energetic."
Roseanne chuckled softly. "Rurik's one of the best, though he has had a rough time lately. If you are a hunter, there's work available too. We have a local band of thieves causing trouble, and there is a dragon that has taken over a cave nearby. Either job would pay well."
Kintu shook his head, his focus returning to his mission. "I appreciate the offer, but I am on a quest. I cannot take on any extra work right now. However, I suggest contacting the royal family for assistance. They will be able to help."
Roseanne nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I see. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
Kintu offered a polite nod before moving to a nearby table. He sat down and waited, the minutes ticking by slowly as he thought about his next steps. The quiet of the town was unnerving, and the knowledge that Arnos had played a part in its downfall only fueled his resolve. He would find the relic, and he would ensure that Arnos paid for his betrayal.
When enough time had passed, Kintu rose from his seat and made his way to the blacksmith's shop. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the deserted streets. As he approached the shop, he could hear the sound of hammering, the rhythmic clanging of metal-on-metal echoing through the still air.
He entered the shop to find Rurik hard at work, his face flushed with excitement. Rurik looked up as Kintu stepped inside, a proud smile on his face. "Right on time!" Rurik exclaimed. "I've got everything ready for you."
Kintu looked around, taking in the sight of the artfully arranged weapons and armor. Rurik had outdone himself, the quality of the gear evident in every detail. Rurik's passion for his craft was clear, and for the first time since arriving in the town, Kintu felt a sense of optimism.
"Thank you, Rurik," Kintu said, his voice sincere. "This will do nicely."
Rurik beamed, clearly pleased with the compliment. "You're welcome, lad! Now, let us get you fitted with the best gear this town has to offer. You will be unstoppable!"
As Kintu admired the array of weapons and armor laid out before him, the system's voice chimed in, interrupting his thoughts.
"Alert: The quality of these items is lower than expected. Scanning the blacksmith… Skills are high, but the equipment quality does not match. Inquiry recommended."
The system's words echoed in Kintu's mind, sparking curiosity. He looked back at Rurik, who was beaming with pride, his wide grin never faltering. Something did not add up. If Rurik was as skilled as the system indicated, why was the equipment so bad?
Kintu cleared his throat, his tone respectful but direct. "Rurik, is this really your best stuff?" The question hung in the air for a moment, and Rurik's smile slowly faded. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at the polished weapons with a touch of sadness." So, you noticed, eh?" Rurik muttered; his voice tinged with resignation. He glanced up at Kintu, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated frustration. "No, lad, it is not. You see we have a bandit problem, and they have taken over the town.
After all the hunters left, they realized there was no one left to stop them. They eliminated the last mayor and put their own puppet in his place." Kintu's gaze hardened as he listened, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Rurik continued, his voice low and bitter. "They even put that dragon in the cave to keep me from getting the materials I need to craft genuinely great items.
The best I can do now is polish up what I already have and hope it is enough for anyone passing through." Kintu's expression remained stoic, but inside, he felt a surge of anger. The town's desolation, Rurik's limitations, it all traced back to these bandits. The more he heard, the more determined he became to do something about it.
The system's voice filled Kintu's mind, calm but insistent.
"Stay out of it, Kintu. Focus on finding the next relic. This town's troubles are not your concern."
Kintu's eyes narrowed as he glanced down at Rurik, who was gathering the subpar equipment back into the shop. He knew the system was trying to guide him toward the relic, but the equipment was not up to his standards. He needed better gear, and these bandits were standing in his way.
"Wasn't it your idea to get new gear in the first place?" Kintu shot back in his mind. "This stuff he's showing isn't any good, and you know it."
The system hesitated before responding, clearly sensing Kintu's growing resolve.
"True but engaging with bandits and a dragon is risky. You need to conserve your strength for the relic hunt."
Kintu cracked a confident grin, feeling the weight of his relics secure against his skin. "Do not worry. I can handle a few bandits and a small dragon. Big dragons live in the Fire God's kingdom, not here."
The system was silent for a moment, likely analyzing Kintu's chances. When it finally responded, there was a sense of reluctant agreement.
"Very well. First, defeat the dragon. Then, we secure the gear. Afterward, we can deal with the mayor and the bandits."
Kintu turned back to Rurik, his tone firm. "Where's the cave?"
Rurik looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You are serious, lad? You are really going to take on that dragon?"
Kintu nodded; determination etched into his face. "Yeah. But I will need directions."
Rurik stared at him for a moment before letting out a low whistle. "You have guts, which is for sure. Alright, I will show you the way, but I am not much use in a fight."
"Don't worry about that," Kintu replied, grabbing Rurik by the collar, and effortlessly hoisting him onto his back. "Just point me in the right direction."
As soon as Rurik was secured, Kintu shot off in a blur, moving with the speed granted by his relics. The wind roared past them as he darted through the deserted streets, past empty buildings, and into the dense forest that surrounded the town. Rurik clung to him, barely able to keep up with the speed at which they were traveling.
Before long, they reached the mouth of the cave—a gaping, ominous entrance carved into the base of a massive hill. The air was thick with heat, the ground around it scorched and blackened. Kintu set Rurik down gently at the entrance.
"This is it," Rurik said, his voice trembling slightly. "Be careful, lad. That dragon's no ordinary beast."
Kintu merely nodded, stepping into the cave with a steady gait. The deeper he ventured, the more intense the heat became. The walls of the cave were lined with molten rock, glowing with a sinister red hue. The air was thick and stifling, making it hard to breathe.
As Kintu reached the heart of the cave, the ground beneath him rumbled, and a deep, guttural growl echoed through the chamber. The shadows shifted, and from the depths of the cave, a colossal figure emerged—a massive magma dragon, its scales glowing like molten metal, each step it took leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Its eyes burned with a furious intensity, locking onto Kintu with predatory intent.
Rurik, watching from a safe distance, could only gape in awe and terror. "By the gods…"
The dragon roared, the sound reverberating through the cave like a thunderclap. It unleashed a torrent of flames, the searing heat rushing toward Kintu. But Kintu was ready. He activated his shadow step, vanishing from sight just as the flames engulfed the spot where he had been standing.
Reappearing behind the dragon, Kintu struck with the Staff of Reaping, transforming it into a scythe. The blade sliced through the air, aiming for the dragon's exposed flank. But the dragon was no easy target. It twisted its massive body, swatting at Kintu with a tail made of molten rock. Kintu barely managed to shadow step away, the force of the tail sending shockwaves through the cave.
"You're fast," Kintu muttered under his breath, "but I'm faster."
The dragon inhaled deeply, the molten core of its body pulsing as it prepared to unleash another wave of fire. Kintu charged forward, his scythe gleaming in the dim light of the cave. Just as the dragon released its fiery breath, Kintu shadow stepped to the side, avoiding the flames by a hair's breadth. He slashed at the dragon's legs, trying to weaken its stance, but the beast was resilient.
The dragon roared again, its massive claws scraping against the cave floor as it attempted to crush Kintu. He dodged and weaved, his movements a blur as he stayed just out of reach. The heat was becoming unbearable, sweat pouring down his face, but Kintu remained focused. He could not afford a single mistake.
Rurik watched in awe as Kintu danced around the dragon, avoiding its fiery attacks with ease. It was then that Rurik realized something—Kintu was no ordinary fighter. The way he moved, the speed, the strength… it all pointed to one thing.
"Kintu…" Rurik whispered to himself; his eyes wide with realization. "He's a relic user…"
The battle raged on, with the dragon growing more and more frustrated by its inability to land a hit. It began to unleash more desperate attacks, filling the cave with fire and molten rock. But Kintu remained calm, waiting for the right moment.
Then, in a flash, he saw his opening. The dragon reared back, exposing its vulnerable underbelly. With a burst of speed, Kintu leaped into the air, his scythe raised high. He brought it down with all his might, the blade slicing clean through the dragon's molten scales and into its heart.
The dragon let out one final roar, a sound that shook the very foundation of the cave, before collapsing to the ground. The light in its eyes faded, and the fire that once burned so fiercely in its body began to dim.
Kintu landed softly, the Staff of Reaping returning to its original form. He took a moment to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. The dragon was defeated.
Rurik approached cautiously; his eyes wide with admiration. "You did it, lad… You actually did it."
Kintu looked over at Rurik, a small smile on his lips. "Told you I could handle a small dragon."
Rurik let out a hearty laugh, relief flooding through him. "That you did, lad, that you did. I should have known you were a relic user, the way you spoke."
Kintu shrugged, not offering any more information than necessary. "I do what I have to."
Rurik nodded, clearly impressed. "Well, after seeing what you can do, I would like to offer you something. I can upgrade that staff of yours, make it even more powerful. What do you say?"
Kintu looked at the staff in his hand, feeling the familiar weight of it. An upgrade could be useful, especially with the challenges he knew lay ahead.
"Alright," Kintu agreed, handing the staff over to Rurik. "Let us see what you can do to it. "
Rurik, eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and reverence, approached the fallen dragon's massive, still-warm body. He knelt beside it and reached into the creature's chest with practiced precision, pulling out a glowing, pulsating orb— the dragon's core. The core radiated a deep, molten orange, emitting a low hum of immense, contained power.
"This," Rurik said, holding the core up to Kintu, "is what we need to upgrade a relic. A dragon's core, especially one from a magma dragon like this, holds untold power. It is the perfect material."
Kintu watched as Rurik carefully stored the core in a small, reinforced pouch at his side. "You stay here," Rurik instructed, "while I gather the rest of the materials I need. Will not take long."
As Rurik scurried away, the system's voice echoed in Kintu's mind once more.
"Magma Dragon defeated. Thirty points available."
Kintu's lips twitched in a brief smile at the notification, but it was quickly followed by another alert.
"One relic removed from your relic series. Warning: Removing all relics will result in the system being removed from the user. It is not advised to give relics to others."
The seriousness of the message gave Kintu pause. He had known the relics were intertwined with the system, but to lose them all… What would happen to him then? The thought lingered as he waited for Rurik's return.
True to his word, Rurik soon reappeared, his arms loaded with various materials—fine metals, enchanted stones, and a variety of tools. "I've got everything I need," Rurik said, slightly out of breath but grinning. "If I need more, I can always come back, but let's get to work on upgrading your relic and crafting you my best items."
The two made their way back to Rurik's shop. The forge roared to life as Rurik began his work, setting the dragon core in the center of the anvil and meticulously arranging the materials around it. Rurik worked with the kind of skill and precision that only came with centuries of experience, the clanging of his hammer echoing through the workshop like a rhythmic drum.
As he worked, Rurik began to speak, his voice filled with pride and a hint of melancholy. "Long ago, the gods turned to a mighty dwarf—my ancestor—to create the relics. This technology, this craft, it is ours by right. We can change them, upgrade them, alter them as we please. But the gods were clever. They made sure we could not create new ones. You see; to power a relic, you need a god's blessing. Without it, all we can do is make fakes, and their power burns out quickly."
He paused, inspecting the dragon core as it fused with the staff, its glow intensifying. "But what I am doing now? This is different. I am using the power of the dragon's core to enhance your staff—an existing relic. That, we can do."
Finally, after what felt like hours, Rurik stepped back, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It is done. Here you go."
The system chimed in as Kintu took the staff, its weight familiar yet different.
"Staff of Reaping added to inventory. New modes available."
Kintu examined the staff, intrigued. "What exactly did you do?" he asked.
Rurik beamed with pride. "I made it so you can pour mana into the dragon's core and channel its magma into your blade. You can also split it into two for dual-wielding or attach a reverse scythe at the bottom to create a shuriken scythe. Versatility is key in battle."
Kintu twirled the staff experimentally, feeling the power coursing through it. "Impressive work. Thank you."
Rurik was not done yet. He reached behind his counter and pulled out a set of clothing—an outfit that looked remarkably like Kintu's current attire. "I also made you this. It might look like your old clothes, but it is reinforced with special materials that will absorb more attacks. With this, you will be near-impervious to slashes or stabs."
Kintu inspected the outfit, feeling the smooth yet durable fabric between his fingers. "You have outdone yourself, Rurik. Thanks."
Rurik smiled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "For the help you've given this town, it's the least I could do."
Kintu, however, knew nothing came without a price. "How much does all this cost?"
Rurik hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, given the rarity of the materials and the work involved… One platinum plate should cover it my boy."
Kintu's eyes widened, nearly choking on his surprise. "One platinum plate? That is a fortune! You are a crook!"
Rurik chuckled, though there was a seriousness to his gaze. "Quality comes at a price, lad. But, given the circumstances, I am willing to cut you a deal. Half a platinum plate—five hundred thousand gold coins."
Kintu grumbled under his breath but knew the price was fair for what he was getting. Begrudgingly, he handed over the money. "You drive a hard bargain, Rurik."
As he prepared to leave the shop, Roseanne burst through the door, her expression one of panic. "Kintu! You need to leave, now! The bandits are here, and they are not happy!"
As the tension in the air thickened, Kintu glanced at the others in the shop. Rurik was fidgeting nervously, and Roseanne's wide eyes showed nothing but fear. "Stay here and keep hidden," Kintu instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. The two nodded, their faces pale. Kintu gave them one last reassuring look before stepping out into the open.
The town square was eerily silent, except for the heavy footsteps echoing through the streets. Standing at the center was a large man, his presence as imposing as the massive hammer slung over his shoulder. An eye patch covered one eye, and his exposed one gleamed with arrogance and malice. Surrounding him were five rough-looking acolytes, each one sneering at the sight of Kintu.
"Drop your weapons," Kintu called out, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge.
The acolytes exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. "Look at this kid!" one of them jeered. "Thinks he can boss us around."
Another one spat on the ground, grinning maliciously. "Run home, little boy, before you get hurt."
Kintu's expression remained unfazed. In an instant, he disappeared from sight, only to reappear behind the acolytes. Before they could react, he delivered precise blows to each of them, striking pressure points that rendered them unconscious. The five acolytes collapsed to the ground in a heap, their laughter silenced.
The leader's face twisted in anger and surprise. "What the hell did you just do to my men?" he growled. "Who are you?"
Kintu turned to face the large man; his eyes glowing faintly. "It Does not matter. You are next."
The leader sneered, slinging the massive hammer from his shoulder, and planting it on the ground with a resounding thud. "My name is Gorrick Vargos the Deceiver," he rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. "I'm a relic user for the God of Earth, Terranox." With a roar, Gorrick charged, swinging his hammer with earth-shattering force. The ground cracked beneath the weight of his weapon, sending shockwaves through the square. Kintu leaped to the side, avoiding the blow just in time. The hammer smashed into the ground, sending debris flying.
Kintu barely had time to regain his footing before Gorrick swung again, this time horizontally. Kintu ducked, feeling the rush of air as the hammer passed over his head. Gorrick's strength was immense, but his attacks were slow and predictable.
"You're fast, I'll give you that!" Gorrick taunted, swinging the hammer downwards in a mighty arc.
Kintu dodged again, slipping into the shadows, and reappearing behind Gorrick. "Fast enough to break you," he retorted, raising the Staff of Reaping. With thought, he split the staff into two scythes, their blades glinting menacingly.
Gorrick turned, just in time to block one of Kintu's strikes with his hammer. The clash sent sparks flying, and Kintu's scythe scraped against the hammer's shaft. Gorrick grunted, pushing Kintu back with brute force.
But Kintu was not done. He twirled the scythes in his hands, their movements a blur of deadly precision. He struck again, this time aiming for the hammer itself. With a powerful swing, the blade of one scythe connected with the hammer's handle.
There was a sharp crack, and the hammer's handle split in two.
Gorrick's eye widened in shock as the weapon fell apart in his hands. "What—how is this possible?!"
Kintu did not hesitate. "Easy," he said coldly, "you had a fake. But me? I have a real relic."
In one fluid motion, Kintu threw both scythes. The blades spun through the air, glowing with an eerie light. Gorrick barely had time to raise his hands in defense before the scythes sliced through him, their edges cutting cleanly through flesh and bone. Gorrick's body fell in two, the life draining from his single eye as he hit the ground.
The system's voice chimed in, almost nonchalantly.
"Ten points awarded. Total: forty points."
As Kintu retrieved his scythes, the mayor emerged from his hiding place, a look of forced gratitude on his face. "Thank you," the mayor said, his voice trembling. "You've saved us—"
But Kintu caught the subtle movement, the gleam of steel in the mayor's hand. The mayor lunged, aiming a knife at Kintu's back, but the blade glanced harmlessly off Kintu's enchanted shirt.
Kintu did not even flinch. With a single, swift motion, he split the mayor in half, the man's treachery ending as quickly as it had begun.
The townspeople, who had been watching the battle from the shadows, slowly emerged, their faces a mix of fear and awe. Realizing they were free from the bandits, they began to cheer, their voices rising in a wave of gratitude. Their voices filled with hope for the future.
But Kintu did not stay to bask in their praise. His mission was far from over. As the celebrations continued behind him, he sprinted out of the town, his eyes fixed on the horizon, where the next relic awaited him.