Chronicles of The God Slayer of Shadows-Chapter 33 - Thirty Three

That night, by the meager fire, Adrian dreamed. He stood upon a black sea under a dead sky. In the distance, a towering silhouette—humanoid, cloaked in swirling shadows—watched him with burning silver eyes.

The Godslayer of Shadows.

[Memory Fragment Activation triggered...]

The figure spoke, voice a thousand echoes at once.

"You are of my blood. My failure. My hope. Reclaim the shards of yourself, and the heavens will weep anew." In the dream, Adrian looked down at his hands. They weren't fully human.

Something else writhed beneath his skin, a deeper, ancient bloodline he didn't yet understand.

Then the world shattered like glass, and he awoke gasping. Nyxaris lay beside him, awake, staring into the darkness. "You saw it too," Adrian whispered.

The shadow beast nodded solemnly. "Your true nature... it sleeps still. But soon, it will awaken." Adrian gazed up at the alien stars. He would find the truth. No matter the cost.

By dawn, they broke camp. Fenrik led them toward a forgotten oasis city buried in the desert's northern reaches—Elysar's Grave. There, Galvir said, they might find supplies, information...and perhaps hints of other relics.

As they traveled, Adrian opened his system interface. A new quest blinked at him.

[Quest: Remnants of the Old Blood

Goal: Discover the Shadowborn Realm's Gate.

Progress: 0/5 Memory Fragments Acquired.]

Shadowborn Realm. The words burned into him. He was part of something far bigger than simple vengeance or survival. His race, his powers—they were keys to forgotten worlds and lost wars. Fenrik glanced back, sensing Adrian's growing intensity.

"You changin', lad. Faster than I thought." Adrian only smiled grimly. "I have to." Because out there, beyond the desert, gods were stirring. And the heavens would not kneel without a fight.

.....

The post-city appeared like a mirage on the horizon—crumbling towers of sandstone and obsidian, half-buried under dunes that moved like waves.

Elysar's Grave.

A place where relic hunters, mercenaries, and exiled mages bartered for forbidden knowledge. As they passed the cracked gates, Adrian felt thousands of unseen eyes turn toward them. Danger simmered in the air. Nyxaris growled lowly. Galvir leaned in. "Keep yer hood up, lad. This ain't a place for heroes."

They moved toward the market square, weaving between tents of alchemical fumes and traders peddling cursed tomes. Adrian paused at a weathered board covered in tattered papers. Wanted posters. Bounties for relics. And, His blood ran cold.

A crude sketch of himself. Wanted Dead or Alive: The Shadowmarked. A price written in blood. "Well, shite," Galvir muttered. Fenrik tensed. Adrian smirked under his hood. "Looks like I'm famous."