Ascension of the Eternal Game-Chapter 7: A Test of Trust

The campfire crackled, its amber glow pushing back the encroaching darkness of Eryndor's wilds. Alex Kain sat cross-legged on the mossy ground, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The forest hummed with life—chirping insects, the rustle of leaves, a distant howl that made his pulse quicken. Across from him, Lyra honed her sword with rhythmic scrapes, her red hair catching the firelight like molten copper. Her green eyes were distant, lost in thought.

"You know," Alex said, his voice soft but cutting through the quiet, "back on Earth, I used to dream about places like this. Forests that stretched forever, adventures around every corner, magic in the air. It was all just games and books. Now it's real, and I'm still figuring out if that's a blessing or a curse."

Lyra glanced up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's both, I think. Eryndor's beautiful—wild and untamed—but it's also unforgiving. It gives you a chance to be more than you were, but it can strip everything away if you're not careful."

Alex nodded, his thoughts drifting to Mikey, his foster brother lost somewhere in this vast, perilous world. "Yeah. I just hope I find him before it takes him too."

"We will," Lyra said, her tone firm, her gaze locking with his. "And we'll deal with that Shadow Wyrm while we're at it."

Her confidence bolstered him, even if doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind. The Shadow Wyrm was a specter haunting their journey—a creature of legend growing all too real with every step they took toward Eldergrove. They were still novices in Eryndor, their skills untested against such a foe, but Lyra's presence steadied him. She was a spark in the dark, fierce and unwavering.

Silence settled between them again, comfortable yet heavy. Alex poked at the fire with a stick, sending embers spiraling upward, when a rustle in the bushes snapped him to attention. Lyra's hand flew to her sword, her body tensing like a coiled spring. They exchanged a quick glance—wordless, instinctive—before turning toward the sound.

A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in dark fabric, hood pulled low over their face. "Easy there," came a voice, calm and measured, with a hint of amusement. "I'm not here to cause trouble."

Alex rose, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Who are you?"

The figure stepped closer, lowering the hood to reveal a young man with sharp features—high cheekbones, a crooked nose, and piercing blue eyes that glinted in the firelight. His dark hair was tousled, and a faint scar ran along his jaw. "Name's Kael," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Scout for the Silver Blades guild."

Lyra relaxed her grip but kept her sword ready, her eyes narrowing. "What do you want?"

Kael's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Information. And maybe to share some. You're heading to Eldergrove, right? So am I."

Alex frowned, his curiosity piqued but tempered by caution. "What kind of information?"

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Kael stepped fully into the firelight, the flames dancing across his weathered cloak. "I've been tracking the Shadow Wyrm's movements. It's been sending out more minions lately—shadow wolves, wraiths, things worse than that. They've hit villages, ambushed travelers. I think it's building up to something big."

Lyra sheathed her sword but crossed her arms, skepticism etched into her posture. "And you'd just share this with us? Why?"

"Because I saw you two yesterday," Kael said, his gaze flicking between them. "Fighting those shadow wolves near the shrine. You're skilled—better than most newbies I've seen. You might be useful allies. But first, I need to know if I can trust you."

Alex's brow furrowed. "How do we prove that?"

Kael's smile widened, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "A friendly duel. If you can hold your own against me, I'll tell you what I know."

Lyra snorted, a mix of disbelief and amusement. "A duel? Now?"

"Why not?" Kael shrugged, casual but confident. "It's the best way to measure someone's strength—and their character. Unless you're scared."

Alex felt a flicker of competitive fire ignite in his chest. He glanced at Lyra, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Your call. "Alright," he said, stepping forward. "You're on."

They moved to a clearing a few paces from the fire, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above. Lyra leaned against a tree, arms crossed, her expression a blend of curiosity and mild concern. Kael drew a pair of daggers from beneath his cloak, their blades gleaming wickedly. Alex unsheathed his sword, its familiar weight grounding him.

"First to yield or be disarmed," Kael said, dropping into a low, fluid stance.

Alex nodded, exhaling slowly. He activated his Basic Swordsmanship skill, feeling the system's knowledge sharpen his instincts. Kael struck first, a blur of motion, daggers flashing toward Alex's side. Alex parried with a clang, the force vibrating up his arm. Kael was fast—faster than the shadow wolves—his movements precise and unpredictable.

They circled each other, trading blows in a dance of steel. Alex swung his sword in a wide arc, but Kael ducked under it, countering with a slash that grazed Alex's sleeve. Gritting his teeth, Alex tried Flame Slash, a burst of fire erupting along his blade. Kael leaped back, the heat singeing the edge of his cloak, and grinned.

"Clever," Kael said, lunging again.

Sweat beaded on Alex's forehead, his breaths coming in sharp bursts. He feinted left, then pivoted right, catching Kael off balance. Their weapons locked, blades grinding against each other, and for a moment they were nose-to-nose, eyes locked in mutual respect.

"Not bad," Kael grunted, shoving back.

"You too," Alex replied, adrenaline surging.

With a twist, Kael broke free and retreated a step, raising his daggers defensively. "Alright, that's enough. You've got guts—and skill."

Alex lowered his sword, chest heaving. "So, do we pass?"

Kael sheathed his daggers, his smile genuine this time. "Yeah, you do. Let's talk."

They returned to the fire, where Lyra joined them, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. Kael sat cross-legged, his expression sobering. "The Shadow Wyrm's gathering strength in the north, near the Black Peaks. There's talk of a hidden lair—somewhere it's hoarding artifacts and mana crystals. It's growing bolder, and I don't think it's alone."

Lyra leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Do you know where this lair is?"

"Not yet," Kael admitted. "But I've got contacts in Eldergrove who might. Players who've been tracking its minions."

Alex's heart thudded. "Speaking of Eldergrove—have you heard of a player named Michael Torres? Goes by Mikey. He's my foster brother."

Kael's eyes flickered with recognition, and Alex's breath caught. "Mikey? Yeah, I've seen him. He was in Eldergrove about a week ago, joined a group heading into the Crystal Caverns for a quest."

Relief flooded Alex, tinged with urgency. "Is he still there?"

"Likely," Kael said. "The caverns are a maze—dangerous, full of traps and monsters. Could take them days to get out."

Lyra squeezed Alex's shoulder, a silent reassurance. "We'll find him."

Kael nodded. "I can guide you to Eldergrove. It's smarter to travel together, especially with the Iron Wolves sniffing around."

Alex tensed. "Garrick Voss's guild?"

"The same," Kael said, his voice darkening. "They're after the Shadow Wyrm too, but not to stop it. They want its power—control it, harness it. They've got spies everywhere, and they don't play nice."

Lyra's jaw tightened. "We can't let them get it."

"Agreed," Kael said. "That's why I'm willing to team up. But we need to watch our backs."

They settled in for the night, Kael taking a spot near the fire. Alex lay on his bedroll, staring at the stars through the branches. Kael's info was a lifeline—proof Mikey was close, a lead on the Shadow Wyrm—but something nagged at him. Kael was forthcoming, yet there was a guardedness in his posture, a shadow in his gaze. Was he hiding something?

As sleep tugged at him, Alex whispered, "We're getting closer, Mikey. Hang on."

In the darkness beyond the camp, a pair of eyes glinted—watching, waiting, unseen.