Chapter 12: THE OBSIDIAN RELIC
The air smelled fiercely of stagnant water, decaying iron, and a distinct, sharp metallic tang. It was the precise scent of an ancient battlefield—not the chaotic, blood-soaked streets of Sector 19.
Noah stepped deeper into the shadows, his boots pressing silently against the cracked, uneven stone. With every step he took away from the streetlights, the throb behind his eyes intensified, pulsing in perfect rhythm with the circulation of Ki beneath his skin.
DING.
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[Environmental Resonance Strengthening]
[Target Coordinates: 12 Meters Ahead]
[Chronicle Status: Locked (Wood Tier Constraint)]
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The silver holographic message flashed in front of him casting a faint light over the old junk and rotten boxes that were in the way.
To people who go on surveys like E-rank scouts or people from the Association this place would look like a regular trash dump in the city with no special energy coming from it.. Noah saw things differently because of what he learned from The Ash-Walker.
He stopped in front of a wall made of bricks that was falling apart at the end of the alley. The wall was old. Had mold and peeling paint on it but the bricks were stuck together in a strange way. They were not held with normal cement but were fused together like the walls of an old fort.
"It’s here " Noah said quietly his voice barely audible.
He put out his hand and touched the cold brick with his palm.
Noah took a breath and moved a tiny bit of energy from his lower back through his shoulder and into his fingers. This energy went through his body like a string and when it touched the stone the wall reacted.
There was a rumble under the ground but it was quiet and did not make any sound that could be heard from the main street. The brick wall started to move like water. A hidden slot opened up to show a empty space inside the wall.
Inside this space was a piece of shiny black stone shaped like a triangle. It was smooth. Had a silver mark, on it that kept changing as Noah looked at it.
When he saw the stone he felt a rush of excitement.
DING.
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[Ancient Key Identified: Record Fragment #014]
[Origin: 14th Reincarnation Cycle (The Scorched Earth Era)]
[Synchronization Rate: 0.04% -> 0.07%]
[Memory Vault Resonance Triggered]
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Noahs breath got caught as a sharp freezing pain exploded behind his head. He didn’t fall to his knees this time; his body, made stronger by exercise and discipline stayed firm dealing with the mental stress in a calm determined way.
Before he could even think to pick up the object the dark alley disappeared completely.
The world around him turned into darkness and Noah found himself standing again in the huge towering structure of the Memory Cabinet. The massive stone shelves and chained vaults stretched up endlessly floating quietly like forgotten monuments of a world.
In front of him at the base of the lowest wooden tier, the petrified wood drawer labeled The Ash-Walker was opening violently completely destroying the remaining rusty locks into gray dust.
From the drawer a secondary wooden book floated up its surface rough and covered in thick bark-like engravings that glowed with a deep fiery orange light.
Noah stepped forward his spirit moving naturally as his hand reached out to grasp the floating text. He knew the risks of forcing high-level archives but this book belonged to the Wood Level authority he had already established.
The moment his fingers touched the bark the library shattered.
He was no longer looking at the archive. He was looking at a ruined empire through another mans eyes.
The sky was totally black covered by heavy clouds of ash that blocked out the sun. Huge volcanic cracks tore the earth for miles spewing columns of fire into the air. A man wearing torn leather armor plates stood at the peak of a collapsing fortress holding a cracked black steel broadsword. Around him thousands of soldiers were screaming, their weapons useless against a terrifying horde of biological monstrosities crawling from the cracks—creatures that didn’t use modern magic but a raw suffocating pressure that crushed the human knights lungs just by being there.
"Hold the line!" the man shouted, his voice carrying the weight of a leader who had watched many provinces burn to ash. "The System has given up on the gates! The administrators have fixed the entry problems! We fight with our strength now! Spread the fire! Spread the Ki!"
Noah felt the mans lungs expand felt the intricate pathways of a secondary energy technique—The Ashen Step—circulating through his legs in a high-frequency vibration. A massive multi-limbed giant lunged from the smoke its claws of tearing through concrete foundations, like soft clay. The man didn’t retreat. He shifted, his body blurring slightly as his footwork perfectly used the terrain executing a forward thrust that bypassed the giants ironhide plates.
The memory cut off violently dissolving back into particles of light.
Noah’s eyes snapped open back in the dark alleyway, his lungs gasping for the cool, damp night air as reality slammed back into his physical vessel.
He was still standing in front of the brick wall, but his hand was now firmly wrapping around the triangular obsidian fragment. The object was entirely dormant now, the silver rune having faded into a static, inert engraving.
Noah looked down at his own legs. His muscles felt strangely tight, vibrating with a foreign, latent muscle memory that had permanently etched itself into his neural pathways.
DING.
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[Wooden Chronicle Fully Integrated]
[Skill Acquired: Ashen Step (Wood Tier - Level 1)]
Effect: Minimizes physical friction against the terrain using internal Ki circulation.
Active Blueprint: Bypasses standard environmental tracking arrays up to E-Rank.
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A dry, sharp laugh escaped Noah’s throat as he read the system description.
"Bypasses tracking arrays," he murmured softly, his gray eyes glinting with a chilling, ancient depth in the shadows.
This was exactly what he needed. The International Hunter Association monitored every licensed awakener using the localized tracking arrays built into their bronze cards and standard dungeon portals. If an F-rank suddenly demonstrated combat efficiency or cleared a dungeon too quickly, the data entry logs would immediately flag him for a mandatory Guild re-evaluation.
But with the Ashen Step, he could physically mask the kinetic and energy signatures of his movements. To the outer world’s monitoring systems, he would appear as nothing more than a slow, uncoordinated F-rank porter shuffling through the rubble.
He slipped the obsidian fragment deep into the inner lining of his dark coat, right next to his newly acquired bronze card.
Now that he possessed a legitimate license, basic combat fundamentals, and a method to mask his true capability, it was time to select his first target. He couldn’t enter the public, heavily regulated training grounds, nor could he join elite guild expeditions without drawing immediate suspicion from people like Victor Hale.
He pulled up his cheap, cracked holographic terminal, his steady fingers quickly filtering the Association’s public freelance mission boards.
He bypassed the standard academy recommendations and guild recruitment advertisements, scrolling straight down toward the very bottom of the directory—the low-paying, hazardous contracts that no self-respecting D-rank or C-rank Hunter would ever look at.
His eyes finally locked onto a single, red-bordered notice:
[Freelance Contract: F-Rank Subterranean Catacomb Clearing]
Location: Sector 21 Industrial Dead Zone.
Dungeon Type: Unstable / Standard Iron-Grade Core.
Compensation: 1,500 Credits + flat resource salvage rights.
Status: Open to freelance Bronze License holders.
System Note: Environmental degradation is high. Structures are remnants of pre-Riftfall architecture. Highly inefficient for high-yield guilds due to structural collapse risks.
Noah’s lips curved into a faint, melancholic smile as he stared at the words structural collapse risks. To others, it was a death trap. To him, it was an open vault.
"Sector 21," Noah said dryly, flicking his finger to accept the contract. The screen flashed green, locking his registration into the public server.
He turned toward the mouth of the alley, stepping out into the neon glare of the commercial district once more. His posture remained perfectly ordinary, his shoulders slightly loose to maintain the perfect illusion of an exhausted, overworked twenty-two-year-old civilian.
True monsters never broadcasted their arrivals. They simply waited in the dark until the world forgot they were even there.