Chapter 13: The Weight of Power
The corrupted forest behind him faded into a distant memory, but the faint hum of the Hollowheart Shard in Wolfgang's hand reminded him of the battles fought—and won. The shard pulsed faintly, its dark energy bleeding into the air, sending faint ripples across Wolfgang's senses.
[Item Acquired: Hollowheart Shard]
• Type: Rare Material
• Effect: Grants Shadow Corruption when fused with weapons or skills.
• Note: Requires specialized forging methods for full activation.
Wolfgang studied the shard as he walked. Its crystalline surface seemed to shift like liquid darkness, faint tendrils of energy curling around his gloved fingers. A tool for greater power—one step closer to surpassing the limits of the Wildlands.
But his focus snapped back to the present as the trees thinned, and he emerged onto an elevated ridge overlooking a sprawling expanse. Highwall Camp sat in the valley below, nestled at the foot of a jagged mountain range. Wooden walls, crude but sturdy, surrounded the settlement. Torches burned brightly along the perimeter, their flickering light visible even from a distance.
The camp was alive, even at dusk. Wagons moved through the gates, traders shouting offers. Blacksmiths hammered steel, their sparks scattering in the dim light. Hunters and mercenaries lounged in clusters, sharpening weapons or telling exaggerated tales of their conquests.
The Wildlands were brutal, but there was civilization here—civilization built on strength and blood.
Wolfgang allowed himself a faint smirk. "Good. There's work to be done."
Arrival at Highwall Camp
The guards at the gate barely glanced at him as he entered, too preoccupied with inspecting a caravan's goods. Wolfgang moved through the main square, his sharp gaze taking in every detail: merchants peddling beast cores and rare herbs, smiths offering enhancements to weapons, and bounty boards laden with new contracts.
It was noisy, chaotic, alive. Yet amidst the clamor, Wolfgang noticed the undertone of fear—the way hunters clutched their weapons a little tighter, how the merchants kept one eye on the camp gates.
He approached a blacksmith's forge at the edge of the square, where a burly man was hammering away at a glowing blade. Sparks flew as the smith paused to wipe sweat from his brow.
"Looking for something?" the blacksmith grunted, eyeing Wolfgang's bloodstained cloak and the Hollowheart Shard in his hand.
"I need someone who can work with this," Wolfgang replied, holding up the shard.
The blacksmith's gaze narrowed, his demeanor shifting from indifference to curiosity. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Where'd you get that?"
Wolfgang met his gaze without flinching. "The Forsaken Hollow."
The blacksmith let out a low whistle. "You walked out of that cursed place alive? Either you're lucky, or you're more dangerous than you look."
"Both," Wolfgang said, a faint edge to his voice. "Can you forge it?"
The blacksmith scratched his beard, his eyes flickering to the shard again. "I can't. But there's a man in the Blackstone Mountains, just north of here. Grimm. He's no ordinary smith—knows how to bind beast cores and corrupted materials to weapons. If anyone can forge that thing, it's him."
Wolfgang nodded, tucking the shard back into his cloak. "Where do I find him?"
The blacksmith gestured vaguely northward. "The path's not easy. Bandits, beasts, and worse guard the mountain roads. Grimm's worth it, though—assuming you survive."
"Then I'll find him," Wolfgang said, turning on his heel.
The Crimson Messengers
As Wolfgang left the forge, the system chimed softly, but this time it wasn't alone.
[System Notification: Enemy Encounter Detected]
A shadow passed behind Wolfgang, and instinct screamed at him to move. He sidestepped just as a dagger plunged into the wooden post where he'd been standing.
Three figures emerged from the crowd—Crimson Conquerors, wearing Roderic's insignia. Their leader, a wiry man with a jagged scar, sneered as he pulled his blade free.
"Roderic sends his regards," he said, circling Wolfgang with deliberate menace.
Wolfgang's grip on Shadowfang tightened as he sized them up. Three against one. Sloppy, but dangerous enough for the unprepared.
"You really think this ends well for you?" Wolfgang asked, his voice cold.
The mercenary laughed. "You don't get it, Mozart. Roderic doesn't take rejection lightly."
Wolfgang's smile sharpened. "Neither do I."
The mercenaries lunged, blades flashing. Wolfgang activated Shadow Step, vanishing into the crowd's confusion. He reappeared behind one of the attackers, Shadowfang already sinking into his back.
[Critical Hit!]
The mercenary crumpled with a strangled cry. The second turned sharply, slashing at Wolfgang, but Wolfgang parried the blow with brutal efficiency.
"Too slow," Wolfgang muttered.
He twisted his dagger free and activated Shadow Flare. A pulse of dark energy exploded outward, knocking the remaining mercenaries off balance. Wolfgang was on them before they recovered. Executioner's Strike finished the second, his body slumping to the dirt.
The leader scrambled backward, his earlier bravado gone. "Wait—wait!"
Wolfgang didn't. He drove Shadowfang into the man's chest, his movements quick and clean. Blood stained the ground as the crowd finally broke free of its shock, muttering in alarm.
[Enemies Defeated: Experience Gained.]
Wolfgang flicked the blood from his dagger, his gaze sweeping the square. The people watched him with a mix of fear and awe, clearing a path as he strode away.
A New Objective
The system chimed again, louder this time.
[New Quest: The Blackstone Smith]
• Objective: Find Grimm in the Blackstone Mountains.
• Reward: Forge Upgrade – Shadowfang (Corruption Infusion).
• Difficulty: High.
Wolfgang glanced northward, where the silhouette of the Blackstone Mountains rose against the darkening sky. Roderic had declared war, but Wolfgang didn't care. Power awaited him in those mountains, and power was all that mattered.
Adjusting his cloak, Wolfgang started walking. The wind whispered through Highwall Camp, carrying his name like a warning.
The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving the aftermath of the skirmish behind. Mercenaries and traders whispered among themselves, stealing nervous glances at Wolfgang as he strode toward the northern gate of Highwall Camp. Word of what had happened would spread quickly—his refusal of Roderic's authority, the bodies of the Crimson Conquerors lying lifeless in the square.
Wolfgang relished it.
[Reputation Update: The Lone Wolf]
• Your defiance of a major guild has earned you notoriety.
• Effect: Fear among low-level hunters and mercenaries. Increased aggression from guild forces.
He smirked faintly, tucking Shadowfang back into his cloak. His path led him to the northern gate, where guards stood warily, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. One of them stepped forward as Wolfgang approached, an older man with a scarred face and sharp, tired eyes.
"You're heading north?" the guard asked, his tone gruff. "It's not safe out there. Bandits, beasts, and worse things guard the roads to Blackstone."
Wolfgang paused, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains rising like jagged teeth. "That's why I'm going."
The guard let out a humorless chuckle. "Suit yourself, then. But a word of advice—don't trust the quiet. The Wildlands have a way of swallowing men whole."
Wolfgang met the guard's gaze, unflinching. "I'm not so easy to swallow."
Without waiting for a response, he passed through the gates and into the fading twilight.
The Northern Wildlands
The world beyond Highwall was a far cry from the chaotic camp. The path ahead wound through thick forests, where the branches seemed to claw at the sky, casting tangled shadows across the ground. Wolfgang moved silently, his enhanced Dexterity and Agility ensuring each step was deliberate and soundless.
The Blackstone Mountains loomed on the horizon, shrouded in thin mist. But reaching them would not be easy.
The system hummed in his mind, always watching.
[System Notice: Region Entered – Northern Wildlands]
• Environment: Dense forests, mountain trails.
• Threat Level: High.
• Entities Detected: ???
The forest was alive in ways that were unnatural. Faint growls rumbled in the distance, and glowing pairs of eyes watched from the underbrush. Wolfgang's grip on Shadowfang tightened as he pressed forward.
As he walked, his mind replayed the conversation with the blacksmith. Grimm. A smith capable of forging corrupted materials. If he could bind the Hollowheart Shard to Shadowfang, Wolfgang's power would take a critical step forward.
"Tools and allies," Wolfgang murmured to himself. "One step at a time."
A Warning in the Woods
The wind shifted suddenly, carrying with it the stench of blood and rot. Wolfgang halted mid-step, his senses flaring. The quiet had deepened unnaturally—no birds, no insects, just the stillness of a predator's lair.
A low snarl echoed from the trees ahead, vibrating through the air. Wolfgang's eyes narrowed as he crouched, his gaze searching the shadows.
Then he saw it.
A beast stepped into the dim light—massive and hulking, with dark fur matted in blood. Its claws glinted like obsidian, and its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, similar to the Nightmaw Alpha he had slain.
But this was worse.
[Enemy Identified: Ravaged Direbeast]
Level: 18
Threat Level: Extreme
The Direbeast let out a guttural roar, its muscles rippling as it charged Wolfgang with bone-crushing force. Wolfgang dodged to the side, the impact of the beast's claws splitting a tree trunk behind him with a loud crack.
"Fast," Wolfgang muttered, his instincts flaring. Too fast for its size.
He activated Shadow Step, vanishing just as the beast lunged again. He reappeared behind it, slashing at its exposed flank with Shadowfang, his blade cloaked in Shadow Infusion.
The beast howled in pain as black ichor sprayed from the wound, but it didn't slow. Instead, it whipped around, claws raking toward Wolfgang's chest. He barely raised Scale Armor in time, the hardened scales absorbing the brunt of the blow.
[Health: 140/200]
Wolfgang rolled back, his mind racing. The Direbeast was stronger than the Alpha he had faced—its strikes sharper, its speed unnatural. He couldn't rely on brute force.
Find a weakness.
The Direbeast snarled again, lunging for a killing blow. Wolfgang darted to the side, his sharp eyes locking onto its hind legs, where the fur thinned, exposing raw muscle beneath.
"There," Wolfgang whispered, his voice edged with focus.
He baited the beast, dodging a heavy swipe and activating Shadow Flare. Dark energy exploded outward, disorienting the Direbeast for a moment. That moment was all Wolfgang needed.
He lunged low, driving Shadowfang into the exposed muscle with a brutal strike.
[Critical Hit!]
[Ravaged Direbeast Health: -35%]
The beast howled, stumbling as Wolfgang tore the blade free. Its movements slowed now, its injured leg dragging slightly. Wolfgang pressed his advantage, activating Executioner's Strike. Shadowfang hummed with power as he struck the Direbeast's exposed flank again, the force of the blow tearing into flesh and bone.
The Direbeast collapsed to its knees, blood pooling around it. Wolfgang stood over it, breathing heavily, his dagger dripping ichor.
"Not good enough," he muttered coldly.
With a final slash, Wolfgang ended the beast. Its body fell still, the forest returning to silence as the system chimed softly.
[Enemy Defeated: Ravaged Direbeast]
[Experience Gained: Significant]
[Rare Item Acquired: Direbeast Fang]
Wolfgang knelt beside the corpse, retrieving a massive fang that pulsed faintly with energy.
[Item: Direbeast Fang]
• Type: Rare Material
• Effect: Enhances weapon damage when fused with equipment.
He tucked the fang and the shard safely away, his sharp blue gaze turning toward the mountains rising ahead.
"Grimm better be worth this trouble," Wolfgang muttered. But deep down, he relished it—the hunt, the power, the progression.
End of Chapter 13