"Every gain in power comes with a cost, and every victory leaves its mark. Strength is not measured by what you can wield but by what you can endure."
---
Steven sat beneath the shattered ruins of the Forgotten Temple, the Shard of Forgotten Power resting in his hand. Its glow was faint, pulsing like a heartbeat, and though it radiated incredible strength, it also carried a weight that bore down on him. He had fought tooth and nail to obtain it, but now that it was his, the sense of victory was overshadowed by a deep unease.
The trial had been brutal. He could still feel the stinging lashes of the shadow magic that had torn through him, the relentless pressure of the darkness that had nearly claimed his life. Despite his growing powers, the fight had shown him his limits—limits he couldn't ignore.
As he sat there, catching his breath, he replayed the battle in his mind. The Shadow Bind was now his, but the victory had come at a steep cost. His body was battered, his health depleted, and the mental toll was heavier than he cared to admit. The figure's words echoed in his mind: Power comes with a price."
He could feel it now. The price was more than just physical. It was deeper, more insidious. With every new power he acquired, every artifact or skill, a piece of himself seemed to slip further into the abyss. He was no longer the man who had died a pathetic death in his old life, but he was also becoming something far darker than he had imagined.
---
[Health Restored: 45%]
[New Skill Activated: Shadow Bind]
[Energy Restored: 60%]
---
The system alerts flashed in front of him as his body slowly healed, the enchanted recovery process doing its best to patch him up. He could feel his bones knitting, the torn muscles mending, but even as his body healed, the mental exhaustion lingered.
He looked at the Shard again. It was incredibly powerful—too powerful, perhaps. But it was just one piece of a greater puzzle. He had no doubt there were more shards like it scattered throughout this world, each guarded by their own trials. He needed them if he was going to reach the pinnacle, but acquiring them wasn't going to be as straightforward as he'd initially thought.
"One step at a time," Steven muttered to himself, rising to his feet. "I can't get complacent."
His legs were shaky as he stood, but he forced his body to move. The figure who had guided him to the temple had long since disappeared, and the ruins had collapsed entirely, leaving no trace of the trial that had nearly killed him. He needed to get back to the nearest village, to rest, regroup, and plan his next move.
But as he began the long trek back through the dense, dark forest, something felt off.
---
[Warning: Presence Detected Nearby]
---
Steven froze, his system alerting him to something—or someone—approaching. His eyes darted through the thick trees, scanning the shadows for movement. The forest was eerily silent, the only sound his own shallow breathing.
And then he saw it.
A figure emerged from the underbrush, tall and lean, with skin the color of ash and eyes that glowed a faint green. It was an elf—or at least, something that resembled one. But this wasn't the graceful, noble race of elves from tales. This creature's movements were jerky, unnatural, and its face was twisted in a permanent sneer.
More figures appeared behind it, all similarly grotesque in appearance. They were armed, carrying crude weapons—daggers, spears, and swords made of blackened metal—and their eyes were fixed on Steven.
Raiders.
---
[System Alert: Hostile Forces Detected]
[Enemy Class: Corrupted Elves – Level 23-27]
---
Steven cursed under his breath. He had barely recovered from the trial, and now this? His system had managed to restore some of his health, but he was in no condition to fight a full squad of raiders.
The lead elf stepped forward, its sneer widening into a cruel grin.
"Well, well," it hissed, its voice like the scraping of metal. "Looks like we found ourselves a little traveler. And a tired one at that."
Steven didn't respond. His mind raced, evaluating the situation. He was outnumbered, and he couldn't afford to expend too much energy. But running wasn't an option either—the raiders would be on him in seconds. He had to fight smart.
The elf raised its hand, and the others began to spread out, surrounding Steven in a loose circle. Their weapons gleamed in the dim light filtering through the canopy. He could feel their bloodlust, their eagerness to strike him down.
Without a word, Steven reached for his sword, the Wraithblade, feeling its familiar weight in his hand. His fingers flexed around the hilt as he readied himself, his eyes narrowing in concentration.
---
[Combat Mode Engaged]
---
The first raider lunged at him, moving with surprising speed. Steven sidestepped the attack, bringing his sword down in a fluid motion. The Wraithblade sliced through the elf's flesh with ease, and the creature crumpled to the ground with a gurgling cry.
But the others didn't hesitate. They rushed him all at once, their weapons flashing in the dim light. Steven parried one strike, then another, but the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. He couldn't block them all.
A spear grazed his side, the tip cutting through his armor and drawing blood. Another raider's dagger slashed at his arm, forcing him to drop back to avoid the worst of it. His system alerted him to his rapidly declining health.
---
[Health Critical: 30%]
---
Steven gritted his teeth, the pain shooting through his body. He had to end this quickly, or he wouldn't survive. Summoning the last of his energy, he activated his new skill, **Shadow Bind**.
The shadows around him twisted and coiled, springing to life at his command. Dark tendrils shot out from the ground, wrapping around the raiders' legs and arms, immobilizing them. The elves struggled, their faces contorted in surprise and fear, but the shadows held them fast.
Without hesitation, Steven struck. His blade moved like lightning, cutting down the trapped raiders one by one. Their screams echoed through the forest as their bodies fell to the ground, lifeless.
In a matter of seconds, it was over.
Steven stood in the center of the carnage, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The forest was silent once more, save for the faint rustling of the leaves in the breeze.
But the victory was hollow. His body was wrecked with pain, his health dangerously low. The raiders had been nothing more than low-level enemies, yet they had nearly killed him. If it hadn't been for the Shadow Bind, he wouldn't have made it out alive.
He looked down at his bloodied hands, his sword dripping with the dark blood of the corrupted elves. This wasn't the glorious path to power he had envisioned. It was brutal, ugly, and filled with danger at every turn.
And yet, he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Not until he had achieved his ultimate goal.
With a grim expression, Steven wiped the blood from his sword and sheathed it. He turned and continued his trek through the forest, his steps heavy but resolute.
This world wouldn't break him. No matter the cost, no matter the losses, he would rise to the top.
But for the first time since his reincarnation, he realized just how steep the price might be.
---
[Level Up: +1]
[New Attribute Point Unlocked: +1 Dexterity]
---
As he walked, Steven's mind turned to the next challenge. The Shard of Forgotten Power was only the beginning. He had much further to go, and the trials ahead would only grow more difficult. He would need to be stronger, smarter, and more ruthless if he was going to survive.
And though the road ahead was fraught with danger, Steven couldn't help but feel a dark thrill in his heart. The hardships only fueled his hunger for power.
He was no longer just a man clawing his way to survival. He was becoming something more—something far more dangerous.
The Ascendancy of the Infinite Forge had only just begun.