Chapter 104: Golden Fortune City X
Rhys let out a deep breath, eyes scanning the glowing text.
A growth-type relic... bound to him. Its strength would grow as he did. Even at Rank 2, it was already powerful—far more than most weapons. He could only imagine how strong it would become later.
He closed the window and nodded. No point in staring at it longer. He slid the Ruinous Darkness Blade back into its sheath. The faint purple glow faded, but he could still feel it beating in time with his own heart, as if it had become part of him.
The room was quiet. The smell of polished wood and faint incense hung in the air—typical of the better inns in Golden Fortune City. Outside, he could hear laughter and voices from the busy streets. The city moved on like normal, as if he hadn’t just survived a deadly trial.
Rhys stretched, his muscles sore but holding. The fight had been more about willpower than physical damage, and that kind of strain lingered. Still, he had won. He had claimed something worth the risk.
"Good," he said to himself, placing the blade by the wall next to the bed. "That’s progress."
Golden Fortune City wasn’t just markets and inns. There were dungeons here, trials waiting, ruins hiding more relics like this one. He would have to be careful not to stand out too much—not with such a weapon at his side.
For now, though, he leaned back on the bed, eyes drifting to the lantern light above.
Rest. Tomorrow he would head out again.
The blade gave a faint pulse, as if agreeing.
The next morning, Rhys was up early. The streets of Golden Fortune City were already busy, merchants calling out, adventurers moving in groups, and traders rushing to finish their business before the island closed.
He ate a quick meal and checked his map. He had already covered most of the city—over seventy percent of its shops, ruins, and hidden corners had been searched. That left only the last thirty percent, and the clock was ticking. The Golden Fortune City island would close in a week, and when it did, anything he hadn’t claimed would be lost to him.
That meant relics, rare beast parts, and whatever hidden trials remained. He didn’t have time to waste.
Rhys adjusted his cloak and strapped the Ruinous Darkness Blade to his back. The weapon felt heavy in a different way now, not just in weight but in responsibility. It was proof that he could face the kind of trials most avoided.
He moved out into the streets. His plan today was simple—head into the less explored districts and push further toward the edges of the island. The areas most people ignored were exactly where old relics and forgotten beasts were more likely to be found.
The thought made his pace quicken. Every relic, every ancient part he gathered, wasn’t just power for him—it was preparation. He had more dungeons to clear, more trials ahead, and enemies who wouldn’t stay in the shadows forever.
As he stepped into the market square, he paused for a moment, scanning the crowd. Already he noticed other hunters, collectors, and mercenaries moving with the same urgency. Everyone knew time was running out.
Rhys smirked faintly. "A week left... better make it count."
With that, he set off toward the unexplored quarter, ready to dig deeper into what remained of the city’s secrets.
The unexplored quarter was different from the lively center of Golden Fortune City. The further Rhys went, the quieter it became. The shops here weren’t decorated with banners or lanterns. Many stood half-abandoned, their doors sealed or their signs weathered with age. A few stalls were open, but the merchants looked older, less polished than the ones near the main markets. They sold strange goods—bone fragments, jars of preserved organs, pieces of weapons that still carried traces of mana.
Rhys slowed his steps, scanning carefully. This was exactly the kind of place where rare finds might be hidden. The official merchants would never display these openly, but here, in the shadow of the city’s edges, things too dangerous or too strange often surfaced.
A cracked tablet in one shop’s window caught his eye, its surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly. In another stall, he noticed the skull of a beast with long fangs still sharp enough to cut steel. Even broken, such things could be reforged or used in crafting.
His map showed a series of ruins past this district—old shrines and collapsed tunnels that most adventurers avoided. That would be his main target. Relics left behind in places like that were often untouched, hidden away for centuries until someone with enough nerve came looking.
As he turned a corner, Rhys caught sight of a group of mercenaries haggling loudly with a cloaked seller. Their voices were tense, heated. The merchant had something they wanted, something he wasn’t willing to hand over so easily. Rhys didn’t linger, but he filed it away. Opportunities could appear from conflicts like that.
Adjusting the blade on his back, he kept moving.
The air here felt heavier, the streets narrower, and fewer people walked this way. It was the edge of the city—where the ruins began. From here, he’d be hunting not just through shops, but through crumbling stone, forgotten chambers, and the whispers of whatever ancient power had once made its home here.
Rhys paused at the broken steps leading down into the first ruin on his map. He touched the Ruinous Darkness Blade at his side.
"Let’s see what’s left behind."
And with that, he stepped into the shadows of the ruin, ready to search deeper.
The stone steps creaked under his boots, dust rising with each step as Rhys descended. The air grew colder, heavier, carrying the smell of damp stone and something older—like the breath of a tomb that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.
At the bottom, the narrow stair opened into a wide chamber. Cracked pillars leaned at odd angles, and broken statues lined the walls, their faces worn smooth by time. Faint carvings stretched across the stone, some glowing faintly with residual mana.
Rhys ran his fingers across one of the markings. Ancient script. Half eroded, but still pulsing with a weak energy. Whatever power had been here hadn’t fully died—it was just sleeping.
His steps echoed as he moved deeper. The ruin was quiet, but not empty. He could feel it—pressure, like a gaze following him through the dark. He tightened his grip on the Ruinous Darkness Blade.
A faint noise stirred ahead. Something skittered across the stone, fast. Rhys froze, eyes narrowing, and then it came—a shadowy beast crawling out from behind a collapsed wall. Its body was a mass of bones held together by black sinew, purple light burning in the hollows of its skull.
"Guardian, huh?" Rhys muttered.
The creature hissed without sound and charged. Rhys drew the blade in one smooth motion. The sword’s shadow edge flared, cutting across the chamber in a wide arc. The beast split cleanly in two, dissolving into smoke before it even hit the floor.
[ Minor Guardian Defeated ]
[ Dropped Item: Bone Fragment of the Forgotten Beast ]
The fragment clattered to the ground, faintly glowing. Rhys picked it up and slipped it into his storage. Exactly what he was after—beast parts too strange for regular markets.
He pushed on, weaving through broken hallways and collapsed ceilings. Each chamber carried remnants of something—shards of relics, broken weapons, bones that still radiated mana. Every so often, another guardian beast stirred from the shadows, each one stranger than the last: a wolf with no skin, only tendons stretched taut with glowing veins; a serpent made of stone shards held together by mist. Each fight was short, but Rhys didn’t underestimate them. The deeper he went, the stronger they would get.
Finally, he entered a chamber larger than the rest. The ceiling arched high, split open to the faint light above. At its center stood a half-buried altar, runes glowing faintly across its surface. Something rested atop it—covered in dust, but unmistakably old.
A relic.
Rhys stepped forward, pulse steady. He didn’t know what form it would take yet, but whatever had been left on that altar had survived centuries untouched. Which meant it was worth claiming.
He tightened his grip on the blade, just in case.
"Let’s see what you’re hiding."
He moved closer, the altar’s glow brightening with each step.
Rhys brushed the dust from the altar, and what sat at its center finally came into view.
It wasn’t a weapon. Not a relic blade or shattered crown. Instead, it was a stone—smooth, round, and faintly translucent, like a piece of carved crystal. Inside its surface, light shifted softly, as if the moon itself were caught beneath the glass. Mist curled inside the stone, swirling with hues of pale blue and silver.
The system text appeared.
[ Acquired: Moonstone of the Ancients ]
[ Classification: Ancient Material / Accessory Core ]
[ Properties: Holds affinity for Light, Cold, Mist, Water, Moon, and Charm magic. ]
Rhys raised a brow. "So not the end after all."
He turned the stone in his palm. It was cool to the touch, lighter than it looked, and as he focused, he could feel its pull—gentle but steady. This wasn’t a finished relic. It was a crafting core, the kind that could be set into an accessory. A pendant, a ring, a circlet—once bound, its power would flow into whoever wore it.
More importantly, the affinities were rare. Few items resonated with that many branches of magic. Light, cold, mist, water, moon, and even charm—most mages would kill for a stone like this. And while Rhys himself didn’t walk the path of a pure mage, he knew the value of keeping options open. Especially when allies or future fusions could benefit.