The wind had changed.
Gone was the stench of stillness, replaced by a quiet tension—like the breath before a scream.
Lior stood at the edge of the old gardens, where monumental statues, echoes of past glory, watched over a courtyard that time had forgotten. The once majestic hedges were now feral, wild brambles devouring marble paths. Thorned roses twisted like veins across broken walls.
He hadn't come here by accident.
The system's whisper still echoed in his mind:
"Not all is dead in the old family crypt. Behind the garden lies a cave... forgotten by time."
But there was no cave in sight. Just decay and rot.
Still… Lior trusted one thing above all:
Clues were rarely lies. Only half-truths in clever masks.
He walked the whole garden slowly, scanning every single rock, every tree and every corner. His boots sank into damp soil. His hand brushed a crumbling statue of the first Lord Vardas, his great-grandfather, long dead and better forgotten. Behind it, something caught his eye: a cluster of vines too thick, too straight.
Not natural, he tought.
He aproached and knelt next to it.
The earth here was softer. Almost disturbed.
Lior reached to his belt and unsheathed his dagger. A beautiful dagger, adorned on its blade with inscriptions and on its black handle the crest of his family
In Thadrel, no noble was ever seen without their blade. Not because of fear, but tradition. A noble's dagger was their legacy in steel, forged at their coming of age, blessed by fire and symbol, worn for honor.
Some say it is a talisman, but for Lior it was a promise: to protect the bloodline, to defend one's name, to never die a coward.
His had once belonged to his father, worn in the War of Three Lines, stained during the Fall of Feldem, and kept sharp long after its wielder went cold in the ground.
Lior turned it in his palm. Then dug.
The vines gave way after a few scrapes. Beneath them, cracked stone tiles curved into an unnatural arc. A gust of air burst upward, stale and heavy with secrets. Beneath, a narrow stairway spiraled downward, swallowed by shadow.
But before he descended, something else caught his eye.
Etched into the stones a emblem barely visible under decades of moss, revealed the crest of an older age: the Vardas wolf, teeth bared, encircled by roots.
Lior froze.
"What is that doing here" he murmured.
His blood ran colder.
The current Vardas emblem, a flame above crossed swords, was introduced by his grandfather, to symbolyze progress and nobility.
But this?
The wolf was raw, proud, and untamed. A crest for warriors, not courtiers.
"So we buried more than just bones down here" he muttered as he continued digging.
He smiled faintly, not out of joy—but recognition.
This was the Vardas that had been erased.
And now… it was calling him home.
With effort, he pried the tiles free.
And then he descended, leaving moonlight behind.
"Let's see what truths you're hiding, old house," he muttered.
With a few deliberate scrapes, he wedged the blade beneath the stone, prying it loose. Dust scattered. Air that hadn't been breathed in decades rushed upward like a sigh of the dead.
The chamber below was cold and still, untouched by light or memory. Crystals protruded from the walls like frozen screams, pulsing faintly with mana, the only light that could be found.
And in the center floated a black gem, perfectly still, perfectly wrong.
Lior stepped forward.
[Minor Revelation Discovered.]
[Item: Fragment of the Forgotten Core.]
[Use: ???]
[Value: ???]
[Warning: You are not authorized to possess this.]
"So... You don't know everything uh, just as I was starting to like you." Lior said to his system.
[System Note: I know exactly what it is. But mystery is part of the entertainment.]
He rolled his eyes.
"Wonderful. You are also presumptuous"
[Correction: Efficient.]
He reached out anyway.
The moment his fingers touched it, the chamber responded. Red light exploded across the stone. Symbols spun like ghosts. A voice whispered, old and bitter:
"He will come again. From the roots to the flame. And He will burn what He built."
Then silence.
[+1 Failure Point Gained: Touched a Forbidden Artifact You Should Have Left Alone.]
[Your ancestors are mildly disappointed.]
Lior chuckled. "So that's how you work uh." He said as he took the gem.
But before he could even pocket the gem, another message flashed in front of him:
[Initial Quest Unlocked]
"Ruin your house's public image within the first week."
→ Reward: +10 Destructive Leadership
→ +1 Trait: Captivating Infamy
----------------------------------------------------------
"Destructive Leadership? What is this about system?"
[I will explain everything but now is not the moment, focus on the mission or there will be a penalty... Maybe]
He blinked. Then laughed aloud.
"Oh. Oh, I like you."
The system laughed.
"I knew you would master, everyone ends the same"
[Good. Let's start your legacy with some scandal.]
He left the hidden chamber, a plan had already begun to form.
Not a perfect one. Not even a sane one. But one worthy of headlines and disgusted noble gossip.
He would do exactly what no one expected from the new Head of House Vardas,he would hold a celebration.
After all the head of the family had died just weeks ago, what nobleman in his right mind would take the opportunity to have a banquet, especially when the previous head of the family had died in a suspicious manner.
Two days later, the banners of House Vardas flew again, not for war, not for politics, but for the most decadent, extravagant party the masses had seen in a generation.
Courtiers arrived out of curiosity. Spies arrived out of habit. And enemies arrived, hoping to find weakness.
Instead, they found Lior.
Standing atop the main staircase of the estate, no black, no mourning cloth.
His suit was sharp-cut and lined with polished brass studs, the sleeves rolled to the forearm to expose a pair of leather vambraces stitched with the old Vardas crest—the fanged wolf.
Around his neck hung a chain of red garnets, glinting like blood in the candlelight.
He looked more like a victor than a grieving heir.
"To me"
Murmurs echoed.
And Lior drank deeply.
[Quest Progress: 47% - Public Image Significantly Tarnished.]
[Bonus Objective Unlocked: Insult a Regional Lord to His Face.]
For the next few hours, Lior had gambled away a family heirloom, insulted the son of a Count over a woman, and publicly declared the capital's High Chancellor to be "a man who mistakes cowardice for wisdom."
[Bonus Objective Complete: "Insult a grieving noble during a formal event."]
[Reward: +3 FP, +1 Trait Unlocked: "Sharp-Tongued Charm"]
[Trait Effect: Your insults cut deeper and linger longer. Increases likelihood of enemy emotional instability. Stacks with public shame.]
Lior smiled.
"Three points for a single sentence. I wonder what a full scandal is worth."
Meanwhile people talked.
People whispered.
And in those whispers, House Vardas began to rot.
He watched the moon rise.
This was how it began, not with glory, but with laughter and disgust.
The message hovered, glowing faintly like a devil's promise.
"Show me" Lior whispered.
And the system obeyed.