He helped Nora Reyes stack loose rubble into a crude barricade. Thin wisps of wind stirred around her ankles, a constant telltale sign of her Wind Sigil influence. She glanced around warily, eyes drifting to the dark alleys and leaning structures. “Any chance we’re alone here?” she asked under her breath.
“Doubt it,” Elijah murmured, scanning for movement. “Something’s out there—beasts or constructs, or maybe even other survivors. Hard to believe this place is empty.”
They worked in tandem, placing chunks of stone until they’d formed a chest-high barrier. A few meters off, Gideon Pierce paced along the perimeter, leaning on a gnoll spear. Though his leg wound had mostly healed, he still favored it slightly. Sandra Lewis had taken a group to check a more intact building across the street, presumably for shelter or vantage.
When they finished, Elijah straightened, stretching tired muscles. “Let’s see if the scouts have found anything useful,” he said. Nora nodded, and the two of them picked their way over the scattered rubble to rejoin the others.
They found Vince Anders and Misha in front of a half-collapsed structure that might once have been a watchtower. Vince’s conjured sparks danced over a rotted wooden door, flickering faintly as if scanning for traps. The man looked up as Elijah and Nora approached. “We think this tower’s stable enough to climb a bit—maybe get a lookout point.”
Misha nodded, gripping her spear. “Doesn’t seem like anything’s inside, but it’s dark.”
Elijah peered upward. A spiral staircase was visible through a cracked wall, leading to a second-level platform. A gap higher up suggested a collapsed upper floor. “Might be worth checking. Even a partial vantage is better than none.”
Nora glanced at Misha. “We’ll come with you.” She cast a cautious look behind them, where a few tired survivors rested amid lumps of broken masonry. “We can’t stay scattered too much.”
Together, they pried the door open, stepping into a small foyer of crumbling stone. Dust motes swirled in the meager torchlight. A battered flight of stairs wound upward, each step pitted with age. Vince conjured a ball of electric light, guiding them with crackling illumination.
The climb was slow. Their footsteps echoed ominously off the curved walls. At the first landing, they found an open space that looked like an old guard post—empty shelves, a toppled stool, and a narrow arrow-slit in the outer wall. No monstrous creatures or undead horrors, at least.
Vince moved to the slit, shining his sparks outside. Through it, Elijah saw the spread of ruined buildings and the faint glow from the magical bridge they’d crossed. “We can see most of our camp from here,” Vince said, nodding. “That’s good.”
Nora tried the next flight of stairs, only to find the upper level entirely collapsed. “This is it,” she announced, returning with a shrug. “At least it’s a vantage.”
Misha tapped the hilt of her spear. “I’ll call up Gideon or Sandra—maybe we can post watchers here. Keep an eye on the streets.”
Elijah and Nora exchanged looks. One small step toward securing the city. It was better than nothing.
They regrouped at ground level, where Sandra, Gideon, and a few others had collected around a battered fountain in what might have been a plaza. The stone basin was dry, the statue at its center weathered beyond recognition. Brittany hovered near them, her quiet Fortifying Song weaving a backdrop of calm.
Sandra spotted Elijah and waved them over. “We’ve set camp behind that collapsed wall,” she said, indicating the general area. “Small fires only—we don’t want to announce ourselves. Greg and Harold are trying to see if there’s any water left in these pipes or if we can conjure some.”
Gideon nodded. “We’ll need rest. But we should also do some perimeter sweeps to ensure nothing sneaks up on us.”
Elijah ran a hand through his hair, gritty with dust. “I’ll volunteer for a sweep. Nora, you in?”
She smiled thinly, flexing her fingers around her sword’s hilt. “Sure. Let’s see if we can map a couple of these side streets.”
A plan formed: Two scouting squads would skirt around the nearby blocks, looking for threats or anything salvageable. One squad included Elijah, Nora, Vince, and a couple of quieter fighters like Patrice. The other would be Misha and Thomas leading a small group in a different direction. They’d stay within earshot if possible.
“Don’t overextend,” Gideon warned. “If you see anything suspicious, get back here fast.”
Elijah’s squad crept along a half-buried street framed by broken columns. The architecture had a grand air, with arches and stone carvings that would have looked beautiful in their prime. Now, weeds and fungus grew in the cracks, and the occasional crumble of rubble echoed eerily.
“Feels like a ghost town,” Vince whispered, conjured sparks muted to avoid drawing too much attention.
Nora brushed aside a hanging vine of some bioluminescent growth. “Maybe the ghosts themselves will come out next,” she joked, though her tone was uneasy.
Patrice, using Shadowslip, faded in and out of view ahead of them. Her hushed voice emerged from darkness. “Up here. I see an open courtyard.”
They followed her into a space that might once have been a marketplace. Low stone stalls stood in rows, many toppled. A few signposts—indecipherable script etched into them—jutted from the ground. Broken pottery littered the corners. Elijah bent to examine one shard, noticing faint ornamental patterns. No direct System clues, but the city clearly had culture and trade.
Suddenly, Patrice froze, hand raised. Elijah’s pulse quickened. Trouble?
In the gloom ahead, something skittered across the pavement. A shape perhaps waist-high, moving on two legs, with a hunched back and a gnarled face that flickered in the faint light. More shapes followed—a pack of them, creeping among the stalls.
“Goblins?” Vince mouthed silently, electricity crackling lightly around his fingers. “Or some variant?”
Nora’s brow furrowed. “They look… half-rotted? Undead?”
Elijah used his Identify skill, straining to focus:
[Cursed Scavenger – Level 4 (Undead Variant)]
Status: ???
He swallowed. Undead scavengers. They were at least as big as a child, with sagging grayish flesh. Each wielded a short, crude blade or a makeshift club. Snarls or wet hisses echoed as they rummaged through debris. One turned beady eyes toward Elijah’s group.
“They see us,” Patrice hissed. She readied her dagger. “I count seven or eight.”
Vince braced himself. “We can handle them if we’re careful.”
Elijah let out a slow breath, conjuring his spectral bow. “Let’s do this—quietly and quickly.”
The first scavenger lunged forward, spitting a rasping growl. Elijah fired an arrow that caught it in the chest. The creature staggered, black ichor oozing from the wound, but lurched onward. Nora dashed in, wind-laced sword cleaving through its neck. The head toppled, and the body collapsed in a twitching heap.
A second cursed scavenger hopped onto a crumbling stall, brandishing a jagged dagger. Vince aimed a spark of lightning at it, sizzling the undead’s flesh. The scavenger dropped with a shriek.
Patrice used Shadowslip to flank a pair lurking behind a broken column. She buried her dagger in one’s side, forcing it to shriek and stagger. The other swung a club—Patrice barely twisted aside in time, the club smashing the stone floor. Seeing her pinned, Elijah loosed another arrow. It struck the scavenger’s shoulder, letting her slip free and deliver a killing blow.
Two more rushed from an alcove, beady eyes glowing in a faint necrotic light. One clawed at Vince, scraping his forearm. He yelped, sparks lashing out in reflex. Nora and Elijah closed in, dispatching them with swift cooperation—her blade severing limbs while Elijah’s arrows pinned any that tried to flee.
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In mere minutes, the courtyard fell silent again, the undead strewn about in dissolving heaps of decayed flesh. A putrid odor lingered, making them gag.
Vince wiped sweat from his brow, wincing at the shallow gash. “Ugh, undead are the worst. Let’s hope they don’t carry some disease.”
“Harold or Lauren can purify it,” Elijah assured him, scanning the area for more. The whimpering hush that followed suggested they’d cleared the immediate threat.
Nora nudged a corpse with her boot. “Undead city dwellers, maybe? Or newly spawned by the System?”
Patrice sheathed her dagger, face grim. “Could be either. They’re at least killable. But if there are bigger hordes... we need to warn the others.”
Elijah tried Identify on a ragged cloth pouch one scavenger had around its waist. The skill gave minimal info, just Cursed Satchel (Damaged). Inside, he found a small shard of black crystal, faintly pulsing. No immediate puzzle function. Possibly just undead trash or a minor item.
They scoured the courtyard, but found no living soul—just more remnants of an ancient marketplace. Satisfied they’d done what they could, they started back toward the group’s base.
Upon arriving, they discovered Misha’s scouting team had returned too, similarly reporting pockets of undead. Gideon, arms folded, listened with a troubled frown. “So, the city isn’t empty. We have these cursed scavengers. Possibly more. We’ll have to keep watch for night raids, if ‘night’ even applies here.”
Sandra ran a hand through her hair. “Seems each step leads to new enemies. But at least they’re manageable so far. The real threat might be some bigger undead boss or necrotic puzzle further in.”
The rest of the survivors gathered, hush falling as they learned about the undead presence. Fear stirred, but also a sense of grim determination—they’d survived worse threats already.
With no immediate safe building to house everyone, they erected a more substantial barricade in a half-collapsed courtyard, set small fires for warmth and light, and posted watch on the watchtower vantage. While some bedded down to rest, key figures—Elijah, Nora, Vince, Gideon, Sandra, Lauren, Harold, Brittany, Patrice, and Misha—held a quick council by flickering torchlight.
Gideon exhaled, leaning forward. “We know the city has undead. We suspect there might be a central puzzle or sealed area deeper in. Our best approach: continue scouting block by block, ensuring we’re not overrun.”
Sandra nodded. “Agreed. We can’t brute force an entire city’s worth of undead. We need to find a keystone—like the puzzle that created the magical bridge. Something that controls or diminishes them.”
Elijah scratched his chin. “Vince and I have the new translation Sigils. We might decipher more from those ancient records. If the city’s heart has a puzzle or an artifact powering the undead, maybe we can shut it down.”
Brittany’s eyes glowed with worry. “But we’re exhausted. Half of us used potions or healing just last night. We can’t push too hard.”
Nora laid a hand on Brittany’s shoulder. “We’ll take it in steps. Rest some hours, then systematically explore. If we find a major threat, we regroup for a big push.”
Lauren, eyeing Gideon’s bandaged leg, added softly, “We also need to ensure injuries don’t pile up. My Sigil is helpful, but it’s not infinite.”
Misha tilted her head. “Anyone else get the sense the System’s herding us again? Kinda like the coliseum, but more subtle. Forcing us to solve puzzles or face waves of undead.”
Vince grimaced. “That’s basically the tutorial, right? And we haven’t seen a big boss since the mother drake. There’s probably something even worse here, lurking.”
A collective hush followed, each grappling with that thought. Finally, Gideon stood, wincing as he put weight on his leg. “We set up a watch rotation. We sleep, eat, then in the next ‘day cycle,’ we push in deeper. Let’s see if we can find a clue to dispel or control these cursed scavengers.”
They established rotating guards: two in the watchtower, a few patrolling the perimeter. Brittany kept a low hum of her Fortifying Song for morale. Lauren and Harold treated minor scrapes from the undead, ensuring no infection or curse lingered.
Elijah drew second watch. After a brief, fitful rest, he rose under the faint glow of conjured torches to relieve Misha and Thomas. The city’s oppressive silence weighed on him. Occasionally, a distant scuttling or low moan drifted, reminding him the undead prowled.
Nora joined him, similarly unable to sleep long. They walked the perimeter, exchanging hushed words. “It’s still surreal,” she admitted, boots crunching on gravel. “Just a few days ago, we were in an office building.”
Elijah nodded, bow slung across his chest. “Yeah. Feels like a lifetime. But… we’re surviving. Step by step.”
When they reached the watchtower’s base, Vince leaned over from the top, sparks illuminating his face. “All quiet so far,” he whispered down. “No signs of movement in the main streets. Saw a couple of scavengers skulking far away, but they retreated.”
“Good,” Elijah said softly. “Keep an eye out. We’ll circle back.”
They continued their rounds, hearts heavy but resolute. The looming city beckoned, full of hidden perils. Still, with each challenge faced—from hellhounds to drakes to undead—they’d grown. Elijah found a strange confidence stirring in his chest: they weren’t helpless.
If the System demanded ascendancy, they would ascend—together.
Eventually, the group settled into a semblance of rest. Though no true sunlight existed in this subterranean realm, they observed a cyclical pattern for daily breaks. After what they decided to call “dawn,” everyone stirred, nibbling at meager rations of fish jerky from the caverns and boiled fungus. Hardly appetizing, but enough to sustain them.
Gideon and Sandra convened the camp again. “Today, we push deeper,” Gideon announced. “Elijah, Vince, and a few others will focus on investigating inscriptions. The rest of us will handle the block-by-block clearing of undead.”
Elijah hoisted his bow, nodding. “We’ll see if we can find a central node or a power source. If it’s like the puzzle in the coliseum or the bridging mosaic, maybe there’s a way to deactivate the undead presence.”
The plan set, they organized squads:
- Clearing Team: Led by Gideon, Nora, Misha, Patrice. They’d move systematically through adjacent blocks, securing paths, clearing out scattered scavengers.
- Research Team: Elijah, Vince, Harold, plus a few guards, would comb notable buildings for runes or artifacts to decode.
- Camp Guard: Sandra and Lauren stayed behind to protect the base and heal returning squads. Brittany would hold watch, using her song to support morale.
“And if we find something big,” Gideon concluded, “we regroup. No tackling major threats alone.”
A chorus of assent followed. They parted ways with determined nods, each group armed, alert, and tinged with the faint hope that unraveling the city’s mysteries might pave the way to freedom.
Elijah led his small band through narrow alleys, guided by Vince’s sparks. Harold trailed behind, scanning walls for inscriptions they could partially translate with their new Sigils. Two guards—Oscar and Genevieve—brought up the rear, weapons ready.
They found a series of old government-looking buildings, wide stone steps leading to colonnades. One sign above the entry had faint script that Vince managed to read in fragments: “Council Hall … Ascendant Laws … ???”
Inside, dust blanketed a grand foyer. Rows of broken benches faced a raised platform, perhaps for council sessions. Tattered banners hung from the ceiling, unrecognizable symbols swirling across them. Elijah’s breath hitched at the echo of centuries—like stepping into an ancient legislature.
They fanned out, searching for runic plates or locked doors. “Let’s check behind that dais,” Vince suggested, shining sparks on a half-open corridor.
Slipping through, they found a smaller chamber with shelves of decaying scrolls, much like the archives in the puzzle corridor. Harold carefully touched one battered scroll, the Basic Translation Sigil letting him glean partial words: “Law of Unification … binding oath … ascend ???”
Excitement flickered in Vince’s eyes. “These references keep coming up—unification, ascension. It’s all connected to the city’s function.”
Elijah nodded, scanning the walls. “Let’s see if there’s a puzzle mechanism hidden somewhere.”
A side door creaked open to reveal a smaller antechamber, walls etched with swirling lines. They recognized the style: puzzle runes. Vince pressed a palm to them, eyes closing in concentration.
“Seal of Civic Authority … Trials incomplete … Key needed.”
He relayed the partial message. Elijah exhaled. “So we need a key? Another puzzle or artifact to open this place fully?”
Harold frowned. “Likely found deeper in the city. Or maybe an item dropped by a boss-level undead or hidden in a temple.”
Oscar exchanged a wary look with Genevieve. “We should let Gideon know.”
Though they didn’t unlock a new Sigil or door in the Council Hall, the partial translations confirmed a “Seal of Civic Authority” puzzle lay within. They retreated to bring the findings back.
On their way, a faint commotion echoed from the streets. Familiar voices carried through the gloom. Gideon’s clearing team emerged from a side alley, panting. Nora’s sword dripped black ichor; Gideon’s spear was similarly stained.
“Ran into a cluster of at least ten scavengers,” Gideon reported, grimacing. “We took them out, but it’s not safe out here. They’re everywhere.”
Nora wiped her brow, noticing the dust on Elijah’s boots. “You find anything good?”
Elijah explained their partial translation, the mention of a key or artifact needed to fully access the city’s next stage. Gideon’s jaw tightened. “So we keep pushing in, searching for clues. Maybe we find a crypt or shrine, something that’s the ‘keyholder.’”
Nora nodded. “Makes sense. This city might revolve around some central seat of authority—like a grand temple or palace. That’s probably where the big boss is.”
They returned to camp, sharing information with Sandra, Lauren, and the others. The atmosphere remained tense but hopeful: they had a lead—some puzzle or item known as the “Seal of Civic Authority” might unify or quell the undead. Possibly it led to the next tutorial stage.
While the rest of the survivors settled in for another subdued meal, Elijah found a quiet corner by a shattered statue. Nora joined him, and they spoke in low voices. “Feel like we’re just peeling back layers of an onion,” she said. “Every step reveals half a clue.”
Elijah nodded, fiddling with a piece of broken pottery. “That’s how the System works, right? Drip-feeding us enough leads to keep us going. I just… hope we don’t lose more people along the way.”
She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “We won’t, if we stay vigilant. We’re stronger together.”
He offered a small smile, appreciating her confidence. Already, the group had come so far—conquering monstrous beasts, solving puzzles, forging deeper bonds. This ancient city might be the hardest trial yet, but they were no longer the naive office workers from day one.
Somewhere in the darkness, the hiss of an undead scavenger echoed. Elijah rose, checking his bow. Another watch, another night in the city’s haunted streets.