Chapter 7 - 7 Cult's Warning

Journal Entry

Day 16 of Exile.

Korrin's map points to a place the locals call the Riftwood. From what I've heard, it's as dangerous as it sounds—a forest warped by Void energy, where the air is thick with whispers and the beasts are more shadow than flesh. The Void Cult is active there, which means getting to the shard won't be easy.

But if I've learned anything in these past days, it's that the Void rewards those willing to take risks. This shard will be mine.

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Present Action: First-Person Narration

The Riftwood wasn't a forest—it was a nightmare.

The trees here were unlike anything I'd seen before. Their bark was blackened and twisted, with sharp, jagged branches that jutted out like claws. The air smelled of decay, and the ground was soft and uneven, as if the earth itself were rotting.

Above me, the sky was obscured by a dense canopy of warped leaves, casting the forest in perpetual gloom. And then there were the whispers.

They were louder here, a constant murmur that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The words were still unintelligible, but the tone was different—mocking, almost taunting.

I tightened my grip on the hilt of my dagger, my senses sharp. The Riftwood wasn't just dangerous—it was alive.

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The First Encounter

I hadn't gone far when the forest revealed its first test.

A low growl echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of branches snapping. I froze, my eyes scanning the shadows. The whispers grew louder, the mocking tone now joined by an edge of malice.

And then it emerged.

The creature was massive, a hulking beast that looked like a wolf twisted into something far worse. Its fur was blackened and patchy, its body pulsing with faint violet veins. Its eyes glowed with Void energy, and its jaws dripped with dark ichor that hissed as it hit the ground.

A Void-Touched Direwolf.

The beast lunged without hesitation, its claws raking the air where I'd stood a moment before. I activated Voidstep, the world blurring as I reappeared several feet away.

The wolf growled, its glowing eyes locking onto me again. It wasn't just fast—it was intelligent.

I extended my hand, channeling Void Qi into a jagged spear. "Let's see how you handle this," I muttered, hurling the Void Spear toward the beast.

The spear struck its flank, but instead of falling, the wolf roared in rage. The Void energy in its body flared, healing the wound almost instantly.

'It's absorbing the energy,' I realized.

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A New Strategy

I needed to think quickly. The wolf charged again, its speed forcing me to rely on Voidstep to stay out of reach. Each use drained my Qi reserves further, and I could feel the strain building.

'Physical attacks won't work. Void energy heals it. What's left?'

The answer came instinctively, my mind piecing together the solution like a puzzle. I focused on the space around the wolf, channeling Void Qi into the air itself. The energy pulsed outward, forming an invisible barrier that locked the wolf in place.

"Spatial Lock," I said, the name coming to me as the technique solidified.

The wolf struggled against the invisible chains, its body jerking violently as it tried to break free. I could feel the strain of holding it, the Void Qi demanding more than I could easily give, but I didn't let go.

Using the moment of stillness, I activated Spatial Severance, focusing the Void energy into a single, sharp arc. I swung my dagger, and the invisible blade of energy cut cleanly through the wolf's neck.

The beast let out a final, echoing howl before collapsing into a mass of black mist that dissolved into the ground.

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The Cult's Arrival

I barely had time to catch my breath before the forest erupted with movement. Figures emerged from the shadows, their bodies draped in black and violet robes. Each of them wore a mask carved with angular, alien designs, and their auras pulsed with faint Void energy.

The Void Cult.

I counted six of them, their movements deliberate and predatory as they surrounded me.

One of them stepped forward, their mask adorned with a jagged symbol that mirrored the Voidmark. The leader.

"You've wandered into territory that doesn't belong to you," the leader said, their voice smooth but laced with menace.

"I wasn't aware the Void had owners," I replied, keeping my tone calm as I subtly shifted my stance.

The leader chuckled darkly. "The Riftwood is ours, and so is everything within it—including the shard you're seeking."

"Then it sounds like we have a problem," I said, Void Qi stirring faintly in my veins.

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The Warning

The leader raised a hand, and the other cultists stopped their slow advance. "You misunderstand," they said. "This isn't a negotiation. Leave now, and we'll allow you to keep breathing. Refuse, and your journey ends here."

I met their gaze—or what I assumed was their gaze behind the mask—and didn't flinch. "The shard belongs to the Void, not to you. If you're trying to claim it, then you're no better than the sects you pretend to despise."

The leader's aura flared, the pressure almost suffocating. "We do not claim the Void. We serve it. And you, exile, are meddling in forces beyond your comprehension."

"Funny," I said, summoning a Void Spear to my hand. "I was about to say the same to you."

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The Skirmish

The cultists attacked as one, their movements coordinated and precise. Their weapons crackled with unstable Void energy, each strike aimed to overwhelm rather than kill immediately.

I activated Voidstep, dodging the first barrage of attacks and reappearing behind one of the cultists. My dagger flashed, enhanced with Spatial Severance, and the cultist crumpled into mist before they could react.

Another cultist lashed out with a whip of pure Void energy, the weapon striking the ground where I'd just stood. The impact sent a ripple through the air, forcing me to activate Void Shield to block the next strike.

The shield held, but the strain was immediate. My head buzzed faintly, a warning that I was burning through my reserves faster than I could afford.

'Too many,' I thought, gritting my teeth as two more cultists charged.

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A Calculated Retreat

I lashed out with a Void Spear, forcing the nearest cultist back, and activated Voidstep to put some distance between myself and the others. My breath came in ragged gasps, and I could feel the exhaustion creeping in.

The leader watched from the edge of the fight, their posture relaxed but their aura crackling with power. They weren't engaging—yet.

"Impressive," the leader said. "But even the Void has limits. How long can you last before it consumes you?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I activated Spatial Lock, freezing one of the remaining cultists mid-attack. With a quick slash, I ended them, but the effort left my vision swimming.

'I can't keep this up,' I realized, my head pounding from the overuse of Void Qi.

The leader tilted their head, as if sensing my thoughts. "You've proven your potential, exile. But the Void doesn't reward arrogance. This is your final warning: leave now, or be consumed."

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The Aftermath

I knew when I was outmatched. Activating Voidstep one last time, I retreated into the shadows of the forest, my breath coming in shallow bursts as I put as much distance as I could between myself and the cultists.

The whispers followed me, their tone mocking but quieter now.

When I finally stopped, leaning against a gnarled tree, my head felt like it was splitting open. My Qi reserves were nearly depleted, and my body trembled from the strain.

But I was alive. And the shard was still ahead.

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Journal Entry (That Night)

The Void Cult isn't just watching the Rift—they're guarding it. Their strength isn't just in numbers; it's in their precision, their understanding of Void Qi. Today wasn't a fight I could win, but it wasn't a loss either.

The shard is still out there, and I'm not stopping until it's mine. Let them try to stop me again.