Chapter 63: Final lesson

Chapter 63: Chapter 63: Final lesson

"What we do in life echoes in eternity." — Marcus Aurelius

The Inn beneath the outer ring smelled of damp stone and stale tallow.

Outside, the perpetual twilight of the Undervault hung heavily over the lower districts. Down here, the sun never reached the streets. The only light came from scattered lamps, glowing crystals, and the occasional flicker of magic from one of the countless hidden businesses operating beneath the surface.

Inside the inn, there was only one source of light.

A sputtering oil lamp sat on a scarred wooden crate.

Riven sat beside it.

His boots were off.

His elbows rested against his knees as he stared blankly at his hands.

Behind his ribs, his core throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.

It had been hours since the contract ended, but the pain had not completely faded.

A heavy clink broke the silence.

Riven looked up.

A small dented tin cup skidded across the floor and stopped beside his bare feet.

Steam rose from it.

Riven picked it up.

The broth was bitter.

Salty.

Barely edible.

It was also warm.

He took a sip.

Garreth had not bothered asking if he wanted any.

He simply made it.

The older man sat across the room on an overturned crate.

He pulled a whetstone from his coat and began slowly sharpening his blade.

Shhh.

Shhh.

Shhh.

The sound filled the room.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

The silence was different from the silence during training.

There was no pressure.

No threat.

No expectation that Riven would suddenly have to dodge a spatial blade or identify an invisible attack.

It was comfortable.

Companionable.

Riven took another sip.

"My shoulder is still stiff from that chain strike."

Garreth continued sharpening.

"Of course it is."

Riven glanced toward him.

Garreth’s whetstone continued moving.

Riven looked down at his broth.

Garreth finally stopped.

"A full kinetic swing from an armored brute is going to rattle your bones until you anchor the mana lower."

Riven frowned.

"Into my hips."

"Exactly."

Garreth pointed toward him with the whetstone.

"You’re trying to absorb everything through your upper body. Your shoulders take the impact, your chest takes the impact, and your core takes the strain."

"A strong foundation is important."

Riven nodded.

"I’ll fix it tomorrow."

Garreth stared at him.

"You’ll fix it when your core stops vibrating."

Riven opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Garreth returned to sharpening his sword.

A few seconds passed.

"You handled the second guard well."

Riven looked up.

Garreth’s eyes remained on his blade.

Riven blinked.

"You think so?"

"Better timing than last week."

Riven stared at him.

Praise from Garreth was rarer than high grade silver.

"Thanks."

Garreth gave a small grunt.

"Don’t get cocky."

He tested the blade against his thumb.

"C plus Rank is where people start thinking they’re invincible."

Riven looked down at the cup in his hands.

Garreth continued.

"But you’re not six anymore."

He looked directly at Riven.

"You’re keeping up."

The words settled somewhere deeper than Riven expected.

For three years, Garreth had rarely said anything encouraging.

Most lessons had been criticism.

Your stance is weak.

Your footing is terrible.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Get up.

Do it again.

Riven had learned to understand the praise hidden inside the criticism.

But hearing it directly was different.

Garreth reached into his coat.

He pulled out a small wooden object.

He tossed it across the room.

Riven caught it.

A roughly carved wolf’s head.

The carving was uneven.

One ear was slightly larger than the other.

The mouth was crooked.

Riven turned it over in his fingers.

"You made this?"

Garreth shrugged.

"During watch."

Riven looked at him.

Garreth returned his attention to the blade.

"Keep it in your pouch."

"Why?"

"Stops you from doing something stupid."

Riven stared at the wooden wolf.

A strange warmth spread through his chest.

He did not know what to say.

He had spent most of his life alone.

In his first life, he had grown up without parents.

In this life, he had been sold into slavery.

He had learned early that depending on someone else was dangerous.

People left.

People died.

People betrayed you.

Yet somehow, over the last three years, this stubborn old man had become something else.

Not just his teacher.

Not just his partner.

Something closer.

Riven closed his fingers around the wooden wolf.

"Thanks."

Garreth gave a small grunt.

"Drink your broth."

Riven smiled faintly.

"Yes, master."

Garreth’s eyes narrowed.

"Don’t call me that."

Riven took another sip.

The inn returned to silence.

For that night, they were simply two people sharing a quiet room.

Three days later, a new dossier arrived.

The contract came from the independent fixers operating beneath the outer ring.

Riven stood beside Garreth as the older man opened it.

The parchment carried a B Rank threat classification.

The target was described as a lone aging drake.

Sector Four.

Basalt rifts.

Standard scaling bounty.

Riven read the description twice.

"An old drake?"

Garreth nodded.

"That’s what they claim."

Garreth studied the map.

He handed it to Riven.

Riven placed the parchment into his pouch.

"When do we leave?"

"Now."

Several hours later, they reached the lower grotto.

Jagged obsidian formations rose around them.

The walls were black.

The ground was black.

Even the shadows seemed darker than they should have been.

Riven stopped.

Something was wrong.

The air tasted strange.

Not sulfur.

Not blood.

Not the familiar smell of monsters.

Spatial distortion.

Dense spatial distortion.

The shadows around the cavern walls bent inward.

The pressure made Riven’s skin crawl.

He activated his mask.

His vision changed.

Mana density appeared around him.

Spatial distortions became easier to identify.

But then his vision suddenly blurred.

Nothing.

Riven narrowed his eyes.

The darkness ahead swallowed the magical reading completely.

"The fixers missed a zero on the threat level."

Garreth’s expression did not change.

He tightened his grip on his sword.

"Fixers sell lies, Riven."

He stepped forward.

Something moved in the darkness.

Garreth’s eyes narrowed.

"Stay low."

Riven lowered his stance.

Then the darkness moved.

An Umbral Wyvern

The beast exploded from the shadows.

Riven barely had time to register its size.

It was enormous.

Its body was covered in pitch black scales that looked more like polished metal than flesh.

The scales swallowed the surrounding light.

They even seemed to absorb the mana in the air.

A massive tail swept through the cavern.

Stone exploded.

The shockwave ripped through the grotto.

Riven was thrown backward.

He caught himself against the ground.

His eyes widened.

This was not a drake.

Garreth stepped forward.

The beast’s tail came around again.

Riven expected him to dodge.

He didn’t.

Garreth planted his feet.

Shadow mana exploded from his body.

Then he raised one hand.

Disturb Magic.

Riven watched closely.

He had always used Disturb Magic against spells.

Garreth used it differently.

Instead of targeting a spell, he targeted the physical structure of the Wyvern’s attack.

The technique disrupted the concentration of force at the exact point where the tail was moving.

Space itself seemed to crack.

The beast’s attack lost its momentum.

Garreth moved.

He vanished.

Riven recognized the technique immediately.

Phantom Step.

But this was different.

Far beyond Riven’s current ability.

Garreth left behind several dense shadow afterimages.

The Wyvern’s claws tore through them.

The shadows exploded.

Garreth appeared above the beast.

His blade came down.

The sword cut through one layer of scales.

Then another.

Then a third.

The Wyvern roared.

The sound shook the cavern.

Riven felt the vibration in his chest.

His core trembled.

The beast turned.

Its jaws opened.

A violet light began gathering inside its throat.

Riven froze.

Void magic.

The Wyvern released its breath.

A torrent of distorted darkness and violet energy erupted across the cavern.

"Riven!"

Garreth’s voice cut through the chaos.

"Now!"

Riven moved.

Shadow Leap.

Darkness gathered beneath his feet.

His core pushed mana through his body.

The technique allowed him to use the surrounding darkness as a point of displacement.

He vanished.

The void breath tore through the location where he had been standing.

Riven reappeared beneath the Wyvern’s jaw.

He immediately activated Acoustic Dampening.

His movements became almost completely silent.

The Wyvern’s attention remained fixed on Garreth.

Riven raised his hand.

The gathering mana inside the creature’s throat was visible to him.

There.

The anchor.

Riven focused.

Disturb Magic.

Shadow mana shot forward.

The technique struck the spell structure forming inside the Wyvern.

The anchor fractured.

The void breath collapsed.

The Wyvern choked.

Its massive body lurched downward.

Garreth immediately moved in.

He struck again.

The beast roared.

Its claws slammed into the ground.

Then it turned toward Riven.

Its jaws opened.

Riven’s eyes widened.

The creature was dying.

But it was still moving.

The Wyvern lunged.

Garreth saw it.

He moved.

Not away.

Toward Riven.

"Garreth!"

The Wyvern’s jaws slammed shut.

Garreth disappeared beneath them.

The sound of breaking bone echoed through the cavern.

Riven froze.

For a second, his mind refused to understand what he had seen.

Garreth was lying against the stone.

Blood covered his coat.

His chest was crushed.

The Wyvern lifted its head.

Garreth moved.

Barely.

His fingers tightened around his sword.

He stood.

One final time.

The Wyvern roared.

Garreth raised his blade with both hands.

Then drove it upward.

The sword pierced through the soft underside of the Wyvern.

The blade continued deeper.

Straight into its core.

The beast froze.

Its body trembled.

Then the enormous creature began to dissolve.

Black ash drifted through the air.

The Void Scaled Wyvern collapsed into nothing.

Garreth remained standing for a moment.

Then his sword slipped from his hands.

He fell against the stone pillar behind him.

Riven stared.

No.

He ran.

He dropped beside Garreth.

"Garreth."

No response.

Riven grabbed his coat.

"Garreth."

The older man slowly opened his eyes.

For once, there was no harshness in them.

No criticism.

No cold calculation.

Only exhaustion.

Riven’s hands began shaking.

"You need to get up."

Garreth coughed.

Blood spilled from his mouth.

"Riven."

"I’m going to get Elena."

Riven tried to stand.

Garreth caught his wrist.

"No."

"I can get help."

"No."

Garreth’s grip weakened.

"Listen."

Riven looked at him.

Garreth reached for his belt.

His hand trembled.

He pulled free his scabbard.

Then his sword.

The weapon was dark.

Even now, it seemed to absorb the light around it.

Garreth held it toward Riven.

Riven stared.

"No."

"Take it."

"No."

"Riven."

"I said no."

Garreth coughed again.

His body shook.

The unhatched egg pulsed behind them.

Violet light illuminated the cavern.

Garreth looked toward it.

"Take the egg too."

Riven shook his head.

"Why?"

"Because you’re going to need someone watching your back."

Garreth’s voice became weaker.

Riven stared at him.

"Garreth."

"It’ll be your shadow when I’m gone."

Riven’s vision blurred.

"No."

Garreth looked at him.

"You know how it works down here."

Riven’s hands shook harder.

Garreth placed the sword into them.

The weapon felt heavy.

Too heavy.

Not because of its physical weight.

Because of what it meant.

Garreth tightened Riven’s fingers around the hilt.

"No loose ends."

Riven’s breathing became ragged.

"No."

"No rotting in a cell."

Garreth slowly guided the blade upward.

Riven realized what he was doing.

He tried to pull away.

Garreth held him.

"You’re going to survive."

Riven shook his head.

"I can’t."

"You can."

Garreth pressed the sword against his own chest.

"Be steady."

Riven’s eyes filled with tears.

"Don’t make me."

Garreth looked directly into his eyes.

"Don’t let your hands shake."

Riven stared at his mentor.

The man who had taught him how to fight.

The man who had taught him how to survive.

The man who had thrown bitter broth across a inn floor without saying a word.

The man who had carved him a wooden wolf.

The man who’d given up his life for him.

The man he considered his father.

The only one he had ever had.

Garreth nodded.

Riven closed his eyes.

His breathing shook.

Then he opened them.

The hesitation was gone.

The blade moved.

Silence.

Riven remained frozen.

The sword stayed in his hands.

Garreth’s body went still.

The world around Riven seemed to disappear.

There was only the sword.

The blood.

And the silence.

Riven dropped to his knees.

He grabbed Garreth’s coat.

His fingers tightened around the fabric.

"Garreth."

Nothing.

"Get up."

Nothing.

Riven pulled him closer.

"You’re supposed to tell me my stance is wrong."

Nothing.

"You’re supposed to tell me to do it again."

Nothing.

The tears came.

Riven had spent years learning to suppress everything.

Fear.

Pain.

Anger.

Weakness.

He had trained himself to keep moving no matter what happened.

But this was different.

He buried his face against Garreth’s blood soaked shoulder.

A broken sob escaped his throat.

Then another.

The tears would not stop.

His shoulders shook violently.

He clutched his mentor as if refusing to let go could somehow prevent reality from taking him.

For three years, Garreth had been there.

Every morning.

Every lesson.

Every mistake.

Every injury.

Every time Riven fell.

Garreth had been there to tell him to stand.

Now there was nothing.

Riven finally understood.

He was alone.

Completely alone.

No one was watching his blind spot anymore.

No one would throw a tin cup of bitter broth across a inn floor.

No one would stop him when his shadow mana pushed his core too far.

No one would tell him that he was improving.

No one would tell him to get back up.

Riven squeezed his eyes shut.

"I have no one."

The words barely escaped his mouth.

The cavern remained silent.

At the center of the grotto, the Umbral Wyvern egg continued pulsing with violet light.

Riven slowly pulled away.

His face was wet with tears.

He wiped them away with his sleeve.

His hands were still shaking.

He looked at the sword.

Then at Garreth.

His jaw tightened.

He could grieve.

Later.

He could break.

Later.

Riven stood.

He strapped the scabbard across his back.

Then he walked toward the egg.

The massive violet shell pulsed softly beneath his hand.

Riven hesitated.

Then lifted it carefully.

The egg was warm.

Something inside moved.

Riven looked back one final time.

Garreth remained against the stone pillar.

Still.

Silent.

Gone.

Riven turned away.

He walked toward the cavern entrance.

Every step was heavier than the last.

The sword rested across his back.

The wooden wolf sat inside his pouch.

The egg rested in his arms.

He had entered the grotto with a mentor.

He left carrying his mentor’s sword.

And whatever waited inside the egg would soon become the only living thing in the world that belonged to him.

Riven disappeared into the darkness of the Undervault.

This time, there was no one behind him.