Chapter 23: Chapter 23: Whispers

The whispering continued without stop.

Veyla sheathed her sword but became self-aware about her environment. She let Riven walk on his own while she glanced around to make sure they weren’t being followed.

The forest seemed quiet afterwards, though you could still hear the whispering if you concentrated.

"What was that?" Riven asked, clutching his side as he walked.

"They’re called Silent Roots. They’re just like the Whispering Sapling, but they’re smaller and less dangerous. Though they can manipulate your thoughts if you listen to them longer," she explained, walking back up to him and giving him aid with walking.

"They’re that bad?" he asked, resting on her shoulder.

"Not really. They wouldn’t affect those who have grace in them," she said.

"So why didn’t it affect me? Aren’t I graceless?" he questioned, turning his head slightly to her.

"True, you are indeed graceless, but I am accompanying you, so rest assured you’re safe," she said with an assuring smile.

Riven turned his head back and they continued walking, taking one step at a time toward the camp.

"How far is it? And how long will it take us to reach there? I can feel my body giving out," he asked as he tried to control his breathing.

"I went alone so I was faster. It’s a couple of miles down south. We’ll get there in a while—can’t say for sure how long it would be," she answered, staring at his face.

He could feel his body regenerating, and in a complete while, he would be fully regenerated—and that’s when his body feels pain for a while for his cells to accommodate the new power before he can practice on it and use it effectively.

"So what is the place you found?" he said, staggering.

"I didn’t actually check it properly. Just checked for signs of life since you were really tired," she explained.

"Ahh, I see," he muttered.

They continued dragging their feet for a while before a large wall was seen from where they were coming from.

"That’s it, just on the other side of that wall," she pointed briefly, making them unbalanced.

He looked over and saw the tall wall that stood metres away from them.

It had guard posts right on top of it, about four on each corner and front. It looked old with weed and moss growing all over it—it was pale.

The wall stood tall and strong, like something they’d used during a war a very long time ago.

Veyla pushed open the large gate, causing a loud creaking sound that echoed throughout the forest behind them.

They stepped in, and it was empty. He couldn’t see any sorrow threads, and that meant there weren’t any living souls around.

They walked, glancing around the four walls of the fort.

It looked like something that had once housed Cinders back in the days when things were alright—before everything collapsed into a dream.

"Wow, looks like they fought a war here," he said, noticing old weapons: knives, axes, scythes littered on the ground beside skeletons.

Some were aged for over a decade, others wore moss and grass all over them, others turned to home for little rodents and insects.

He heard a noise and he turned immediately, startled—but it was just a rat running out of the skull of one of the soldiers.

"These guys... none of them seemed to have survived," he said, turning back.

"Yeah, but it’s a good thing anyway," she said, leaving him to move on his own.

"Why’s that?" he asked, taking a brief sit on an old block that seemed to be part of a large pillar holding the building up.

"Well, if they had lived this long, their ideologies would have changed, and they probably would have fought you," she said, walking around.

He wanted to ask another question, but he held it back. For now, he’ll just rest and continue the conversation later when he fully recovered—or at least felt better.

She walked into a small building. "I’ll see if I can find anything useful."

He sat there, glancing around the place to make sure there was actually no one around.

He activated the Thread of Sorrow and glanced again, noticing a faint thread dangling at the other end of the wall.

He stood up and staggered toward the thread, slowly to avoid being heard.

He arrived at the spot and landed around but didn’t notice any signs of life around. Then he stared closer at the thread and noticed a shard.

From his memories of the game, it’s a Memory Shard that a player drops when they want to relay a message to another player before they die.

He picked it up, and immediately the rune shone, activating as he felt the energy surge through him at the speed of light.

He opened his eyes and he was in the man’s memories.

He saw as everyone was panicking, arranging themselves for war as sounds of boulders crashing into the wall echoed inside the four walls.

He turned his head and noticed as they lined up in straight lines, different weapons in their hands, waiting for the wall to be broken down.

The wall didn’t break down. Instead, it was opened by one of the Cinders—a traitor. Though I wouldn’t really call him that since they were going to fight anyway.

They barged in—Grace Knights—and flooded the place with their army, killing every Cinder they saw. Of course, the Cinders fought back, wiping out half of their squads as a counter.

But eventually, they overpowered the Cinders and brought them all to their knees.

The Knights left, but one remained behind and said a sentence that left Riven speechless.

"If he isn’t the Scorched King, then none of you Cinders deserve the title. We will make sure none of you all remain, so he can ascend the throne in your place," he smiled, then walked out of the fort.

Riven was brought back to the present immediately with a last word from the Cinder, "Do not trust them."

Who did he mean? The Knights? Or another set of people? Because he was sure those Graced Knights seemed to be controlled by something.

And who was he the Knight was talking about? Why couldn’t he just ascend to become the Scorched King without killing those innocent Cinders?

A lot went through his head at that moment, but one thought stayed, he had to be wary of his environment now, possibly but not excluding Veyla.

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