Echoed Lands

The moments ticked by, each heartbeat echoing louder in Colm's chest as he channeled the Portal to the Lucent Grove. He felt the energy surge through him, raw and electric. The portal shimmered into existence a few minutes later, light bending and swirling at its center with a low, harmonic hum.

A short breath escaped his lips, half relief, half fatigue. He turned to the others. "There we go. Are you three ready?"

The trio nodded without hesitation and stepped through, vanishing one by one into the arcane veil. Colm followed with a sigh. "Let's get this over with."

The instant he stepped through, the world warped around him, and instinct kicked in. Without hesitation, he summoned his phantoms, the spectral figures taking shape beside him.

Determined to push the edge, he triggered Ability Overcharge, funneling raw mana into his Phantom Harbinger. The spectral figure flared with new energy, faster and stronger, but the backlash hit hard. Colm staggered slightly, his vision swimming as the environment came into focus as he felt raw power funnel from the spectral being.

The air was thick with decay. The sky hung low, oppressive and heavy with rot. The stench of death hit him like a wave, and he gagged, pinching his nose. Around him, Ves, Jerry, and Dorian were already scanning the desolate surroundings.

"It wasn't like this before," Ves muttered, eyes narrowing.

Dorian spoke up, his tone grim. "What the hell did she do this time?"

Jerry stood motionless, eyes closed, as if listening to something beyond the physical. Colm's gaze swept the hollow landscape, what once had been vibrant now reduced to ash and withering silence.

"It feels wrong," Colm said quietly. "Like life was scraped out of it. A husk."

His voice dropped lower. "But where is she? Did she retreat into the forest? Or is she still here, watching us?"

Isle Quest

The Paragon Abandoned

The Paragon of Brimhope Isle has vanished, leaving the undead ranks in chaos. With their leader gone, the cursed forces are weakened, but only for a time. Eradicate the undead scourge before a new Paragon rises to take its place.

"What the fuck?" Colm muttered, eyes wide as the glowing notification pulsed in front of him. He waved a hand through the air instinctively, as if trying to brush it away, but it remained fixed in his vision. "You three seeing this?" he called out, voice tense.

Dorian nodded. "Aye, Colm. Clear as day."

Colm turned toward them, confusion tightening his expression. "What the hell does this even mean?"

Jerry stepped forward slowly, his usual stoicism faltering for a breath. Colm didn't miss the flash of emotion, of sadness, that passed across his face before he buried it beneath his hardened exterior.

"But before we dig into all that," Jerry's voice steadied, his tone growing sharper. "This is an opportunity. One we haven't seen in decades."

He glanced around at the group, then back to the flickering words in the air. "It's been far too long since the system issued a quest like this. That means something big just shifted. And it means we might finally get the chance to fix what we failed to finish all those years ago."

Colm blinked. "You mean—"

"I do," Jerry interrupted, as if reading his thoughts.

"We have a chance to free this isle. And this time, we're not letting it slip away."

* * *

Luke lay comfortably in bed, the warm aroma of dinner wafting in from the kitchen. He had just finished cooking and left the meal to cool, taking the chance to relax and unwind. After a long, eventful day, the quiet moment was well-earned.

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Lately, he'd developed a steady routine of volunteering at a nearby orphanage, spending his time training some of the older kids. It wasn't just about combat or magic; it was about offering them structure, purpose, and a path forward. The work was tiring, but deeply rewarding, and Luke found meaning in helping shape lives the way others once helped shape his.

For Luke, it was personal. He vividly remembered the one mentor who had done the same for him when he was younger, someone who believed in him when no one else did. Now, he hoped to pass that spark along, to be that same inspiration for someone else.

He smiled to himself, recalling the awe in the kids' eyes as he demonstrated how to weave a Mana Bolt, the arcane energy twisting in the air before bursting with crackling force. No matter how many times he cast it, the kids never stopped watching with wide-eyed amazement.

Moving toward his nightstand, he reached for the glass of water he had set there earlier. He lifted it halfway, then froze. His gaze locked onto something, and his hand slipped. The glass tumbled from his fingers, shattering against the floor.

"What the hell," he whispered, staring at the impossible sight before him.

Isle Quest

The Paragon Abandoned

The Paragon of Brimhope Isle has vanished, leaving the undead ranks in chaos. With their leader gone, the cursed forces are weakened, but only for a time. Eradicate the undead scourge before a new Paragon rises to take its place.

He bolted upright from the bed, heart pounding, and rushed into the common area where Tessa was already waiting, eyes wide.

"You saw it too?" she gasped.

Luke nodded, his expression grim.

"What the hell is going on?" she muttered, barely catching her breath.

"I don't know," Luke replied, "but we need to move. To the guild."

Tessa nodded without hesitation. The two of them burst out of their small home, sprinting through the dimly lit streets toward the Adventurers' Guild. Chaos had already begun to spill into the roads: confused shouts, hurried footsteps, and the blur of familiar faces racing in the same direction, all seeking answers to the same terrifying question.

* * *

Jerry sprang into action without hesitation, his voice sharp and commanding. "We've got protocols in place if an opportunity ever presents itself. Brimhope's Adventurers' Guild should already be rallying people. We're not waiting for orders. We go on the offensive. Now."

He glanced at the others, eyes narrowed. "We might already be behind. That notification popped up the moment we stepped out of the Echo you brought us into, Colm, but who knows how long ago Lira vanished. Timing's unclear. That means we move fast."

He turned to Colm, eyes sharp. "We're heading straight into the heart of the forest."

Jerry gave a quick nod. "Remember Brimwhistle?"

Colm nodded silently.

"Brimwhistle's along the way but far from it," Jerry continued, his tone growing grim. "It's not the real hotspot. There's a much larger city deeper in, one that got swallowed whole during the Shift. It was called Clayfell."

His expression darkened.

"Imagine five Brimwhistles combined. Massive. That place is a nest now, thick with undead. And we're going straight to its gates. Our target's the sentient undead. If we're lucky, we'll catch them disorganized. It'll still be deadly, but we've got a real shot."

He pointed at Colm. "See those berserkers on the ground there? Now picture hundreds of them. Along with other types, some even stronger. You got lucky as hell to have avoided Clayfell in the first place. Are you up for this?"

Colm swallowed hard, a surge of heat building in his chest, not fear, but resolve. He nodded firmly as he glanced around at his phantoms. "Yeah. I'm in."

Jerry gave a rare, approving smirk. "Good man."

He turned and began laying out tactical plans with Dorian and Ves, their voices fading as Colm took a few steps back. Closing his eyes, he focused inward, grounding himself in his body. Mana surged as he activated Meditation, the energy flowing through him, slowly replenishing the reserves he had drained earlier.

Meditation (Tier 2, Level 1) has increased to Meditation (Tier 2, Level 2).

The flow of mana coursed steadily through Colm's body, rising with each breath. The rhythm of Meditation brought a rare sense of peace, the chaotic noise of the world falling away as energy flowed into him. He could feel the strain in his limbs begin to ease, the weight of the earlier exertion slowly lifting. His reserves were rising like the tide, the familiar hum of power building behind his ribs like a rising tide.

But before he could fully recover, Jerry's voice cut through the quiet.

"Okay."

Colm opened his eyes, the last strands of mana still threading into his system. Jerry stood before him, calm and focused.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

Colm nodded once, his expression resolute. The fire in his chest hadn't dimmed; if anything, it burned brighter.

Jerry nodded in return, and in the space of a heartbeat, shadows burst forth from around him. They twisted and coiled like living smoke, surging outward with impossible speed. Before Colm could even react, they reached him, wrapping around his limbs, chest, and face like cold silk, and in an instant, the world around him vanished, swallowed in a wave of darkness.