Free Web NovelChapter 32: Forbidden Verse
[System Update: Stealth status maintained]
Xander slipped back through the ironwood trapdoor, his lungs burning as he finally allowed himself to breathe.
Too close.
If those towering vanguard brutes hadn’t inadvertently blocked the tiny chieftain’s immediate line of sight, his concealment would have shattered instantly. Against a swarm of common hunters and a pack of mutated aardwolves, getting cornered inside that courtyard meant a swift trip to the respawn screen.
Xander leaned against the cold granite wall of the tunnel, his analytical mind reframing the entire tactical layout of the valley.
A high-tier Sorcerer leading a migratory demi-human clan completely changed the mathematical probability of his upcoming siege. These weren’t brainless scavengers anymore; they were a coordinated army operating under a unified magical command.
Worse, the Sorcerer class was uniquely dangerous. Unlike traditional Wizards who relied on the structured, rigid laws of the Universe Magic Pool, a Sorcerer drew power directly from ancient, chaotic bloodline awakenings. They cast intuitively, ignoring standard incantation windows and cooldown restrictions.
Xander remembered historical data from the southwestern territories near the Jagged Peaks. Following the localized collapse of traditional magic networks, a marginalized enclave of rogue Sorcerers had risen from the ashes, establishing a sovereign dominion that nearly subjugated the entire southern theater.
The undisputed architects of that short-lived empire were the legendary three sisters of fate, whose raw bloodline manipulation had defied even the minor deities of the realm.
The pint-sized chieftain holding Redoak Vale wasn’t on that catastrophic level yet, but his alertness modifier was dangerously high. The continuous upkeep of an active tracking spell required massive reserves of internal energy, proving his bloodline purity was exceptionally dense.
For a pure stealth executioner, this guy was an absolute nightmare. A standard assassin would be exposed the millisecond they crossed the threshold.
Good thing my kit isn’t entirely dependent on shadows, Xander thought, his fingers lightly tapping the pommels of his daggers. A Ranger’s true utility lay in their high mobility and devastating close-quarters burst damage. If stealth failed, he could still out-pivot the target.
He turned to retrace his steps through the dry, dusty corridor.
As his boots crossed the threshold of the subterranean fork, a faint, rhythmic sound vibrated through the stone, cutting through the absolute silence of the tunnel.
It was a singing voice.
The melody was hauntingly soft, originating from directly behind the massive rock collapse that sealed the right-hand passage. If Xander hadn’t invested heavily in his auditory perception attributes, the sound would have been entirely swallowed by the ambient drip of the cavern.
Xander’s heart rate spiked. He glided forward soundlessly, pressing his ear flush against the cold surface of the boulder.
The muffled syllables gradually coalesced into distinct, ancient phonetics. It was a language that had been systematically scrubbed from the active ledgers of the continent for centuries—the native tongue of the Anzed people.
The Anzed were an enigmatic progenitor race, the true primordial architects of modern magic, who had mysteriously vanished into the currents of pre-history. Today, their linguistic remnants only surfaced during formal aristocratic funerals or high-tier religious rituals dedicated to forgotten deities.
A standard citizen couldn’t comprehend a single syllable.
But Xander’s interface instantly flagged the data.
[Checking Character History... Passive Skill Identified: Language Matrix — ’Anzed Dialect’ discovered]
Xander marveled at the sheer structural utility of his [Nobility] life class. While common players historically dismissed the noble title as a useless cosmetic node, the integrated heritage of this vessel provided him with passive mastery over ancient administrative codes, advanced accounting, and forgotten dead languages.
He focused entirely on the acoustic feed, deciphering the androgynous, echoing chant as it repeated four precise, lyrical verses:
"One blossom blooms, two blossoms fade, tonight the fiend avoids the glade."
"Despising the deluge, cursing the skies, deep in the well, the solitary cries."
"Clad in pure white for the festival’s dread, clad in deep black to honor the dead, the midnight chime refuses to die."
"The fallen remains... refuse to lie."
A sudden, visceral wave of cold dread washed over Xander’s physical frame, his skin turning deathly pale. The four short lines seemed to drill directly into his consciousness, echoing in a continuous, maddening loop.
He violently yanked his head back from the stone, breaking the acoustic connection. As the eerie cadence faded, he stared at the unyielding rockfall with absolute wariness.
There is an active entity sealed behind that barrier.
For the first time since inheriting this vessel, Xander felt a genuine shudder of primal fear.
He immediately pulled up his diagnostic interface to check for a localized mental debuff.
[System Log: No active status ailments detected. Saving throw not required.]
The immunity check was clean. Furthermore, he was actively equipping [Vanessa’s Gift], which granted a passive +10 modifier to physical and mental fear resistance. Standard psychological magic shouldn’t have been able to bypass his defenses.
This wasn’t an external spell attack; the chilling sensation was born entirely from within, as if the ancient phonetic frequencies were triggering a physical resonance directly inside his noble bloodline.
A legendary treasure node... or an ancient calamity?
Xander took a deep, stabilizing breath, forcibly pushing the anomaly out of his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to let his cognitive focus split. The secrets of the Anzed vault would have to remain buried until he successfully purged the demi-human migration from Redoak Vale.
Xander exited the mountain postern under the cover of the morning mist and returned to the abandoned farmhouse, where a thoroughly panicked Lola was still tied securely to the structural timber.
The moment he stepped through the door, the girl began thrashing frantically against her bonds.
"What are your intentions with my person?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with terror.
During his three-hour absence, her overactive imagination had systematically mapped out every grim outcome. She was entirely convinced this masked mercenary was going to use her body for illicit entertainment before leaving her a corpse in the weeds, or worse, simply feed her to the remaining predators outside.
When Xander drew his curved dagger and stepped toward her, Lola closed her eyes and braced for impact, her entire frame trembling.
SHUCK. freeweɓnovel.cøm
The blade cleanly severed the hemp ropes binding her wrists.
Lola opened her eyes, blinking stupidly in the dim light. "Ah?"
"Secure your gear," Xander ordered smoothly, sheathing his blade without a hint of emotion. "We are executing an immediate transit through the enemy’s western perimeter."
Navigating a dense patrolling network alone was an elementary routine for a level 5 Ranger. Escorting a zero-tier civilian asset with absolutely no physical modifiers, however, was a logistical nightmare. Lola lacked any passive agility perks, making her incredibly loud and painfully slow.
Xander was forced to systematically alter his strategy. He utilized localized noise distractions to systematically lure the patrolling aardwolves away from key choke points, literally dragging Lola by her collar through the blind spots of the valley.
Three days of grueling, low-profile trekking later, the imposing stone walls of River Shore City finally materialized through the morning fog.
Lola stared at the bustling civilian gates, a massive wave of pure euphoria washing over her face. She had spent weeks rotting in a damp dungeon only to be dragged through a war zone by a mute assassin. Surviving this sequence of events felt like a statistical miracle.
"Thank you... truly," she whispered, turning to look at Xander with genuine, unscripted gratitude. The masked killer was terrifying, but he had honorably fulfilled his baseline promise.
Xander stood entirely still in the shadows of the tree line, his cloth mask concealing his expression as he evaluated her profile one final time.
"Do you possess accurate cartographical data for the trade routes leading directly to Jewel Bay?" he inquired in a low whisper.
Lola startled. "I... yes, I know the coastal layout perfectly."
"I am entirely aware that your identity as a merchant director’s daughter is a complete fabrication," Xander stated flatly, ignoring her sudden gasp of panic. "I also know your entire portfolio is built on fraudulent manipulation. However, I have decided to authorize a high-yield operational pivot for your character." frёewebηovel.cѳm
He reached into his utility coat and tossed a heavy, clinking leather coin pouch directly into her hands.
"Inside this repository is a substantial advancement of liquid silver. It is more than sufficient to cover a round-trip transit to the southern ports of Jewel Bay, with enough surplus to hire a dedicated mercenary escort or secure localized institutional bribes."
"I require a specific logistical service from you."
Lola stared at the heavy pouch, her mind spinning at a frantic velocity as she looked at the masked silhouette. "Who exactly are you? Did the young lord of Redoak Vale commission you? Are you one of his personal agents?"
Xander turned his back to the city gates, his voice dissolving into the wind. "Close enough."
"Why would you place this level of material trust in a confirmed swindler?" Lola pressed, her voice trembling with a complex mix of confusion and sudden ambition.
"You simply haven’t been provided with the proper developmental framework yet," Xander replied calmly, his figure beginning to fade into the dense foliage. "A talent for high-tier manipulation is entirely wasted on petty domestic fraud. I am granting you the capital to become legitimate."
"Do not disappoint my investment."
