Chapter 37 – Daren
Daren's boots pressed firmly against the cracked stones of an old road, one long forgotten by mortals. The forest had swallowed most of it, roots and moss weaving through ancient brick, but he recognized the path. His hand traced the faintly etched sigils along a stone marker—an old draconic rune, weathered but not erased.
"Still here," he murmured, his voice low. "Even after centuries."
This road once led to a place of reverence: the Monolith of Tareth, a towering relic older than most kingdoms. Few knew its purpose. Fewer still survived the journey. To mortals, it was just myth. To Daren, it was a fragment of truth—one the system wanted buried.
He adjusted the satchel at his side, heavy with forbidden texts. Aric would need them one day, but not yet. First, Daren had to understand what lay hidden within the Monolith.
Hours passed as he walked, the forest deepening into silence. The air grew heavier, tinged with an almost metallic taste. Birds no longer sang. Only the occasional creak of old trees broke the stillness. It was as if the world held its breath.
Then, through the trees, it rose.
The Monolith of Tareth.
A jagged column of black stone, taller than any castle tower, thrust skyward. Its surface shimmered faintly, covered in grooves and runes too intricate for mortal hands. The stone seemed alive, thrumming with a slow, heavy pulse—like the beating of a slumbering heart.
Daren stopped at the treeline, letting the sight wash over him. He had seen many ruins, but none carried the same oppressive weight. This was no mere monument. It was a scar in the world.
Drawing a slow breath, he stepped forward. Each pace closer felt harder, as though the ground itself resisted. Mana pulled at him, tugging from his veins toward the Monolith. It wasn't violent—more like gravity—but Daren recognized the hunger.
"This is where it anchors," he whispered.
The system's siphoning wasn't random. It needed channels, anchors woven deep into the world. And here stood one of them.
He pressed his palm against the stone. The surface was cool, almost slick, though no moisture lingered. Runes flared faintly under his touch, resonating with the mana in his body. His vision blurred—then snapped into clarity as images surged into his mind.
Flashes of battles, dragons soaring, gods descending, mortals kneeling beneath celestial light. And always, above it all, a lattice of threads. The system's web. The Monolith wasn't just an anchor. It was a node, a keystone of control.
Daren staggered back, clutching his temple. The visions faded, leaving him breathless.
"So that's it…" His lips tightened into a grim line. "The system doesn't just monitor. It cages."
The Monolith wasn't here to protect balance. It was a prison, siphoning mana, binding mortals, locking the world's growth beneath a ceiling. And through it, Aion watched.
A sudden rustle snapped his focus. Shadows shifted at the Monolith's base.
Figures emerged—three of them. Cloaked, faceless, their forms woven of mana itself. System wardens.
Daren's hand went to the hilt of his blade, though his expression remained calm.
"So they sent you." His voice carried neither fear nor surprise.
The wardens did not speak. They moved in unison, stepping forward like shadows cast by the Monolith. Their presence pressed down on the air, heavy and cold.
Daren drew his sword slowly. The steel hummed faintly as he let his mana flow into it. He couldn't destroy the Monolith—not yet—but he could send a message.
"You won't silence me today."
The first warden lunged, its body elongating like liquid light. Daren parried with a sharp twist, sparks of mana scattering as steel met woven energy. The second circled, while the third raised a hand, threads whipping through the air toward him.
Daren planted his feet, his blade cutting a wide arc, severing the threads. His movements were precise, efficient—every strike calculated. He wasn't trying to win. He was surviving, observing. Testing.
Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the wardens halted. Their forms flickered, shifting like smoke. One by one, they withdrew into the Monolith's shadow, vanishing.
Daren stood still, chest rising and falling, blade still ready.
"Not destruction," he muttered. "Not yet. But you've shown me your fear."
Sheathing his weapon, he looked once more at the towering stone. He could not destroy it now, but one day, Aric would need to. And when that day came, the world would shake.