The Fool’s Ascension

Jarek had fought a lot of dangerous people.

But none of them had the sheer unnerving presence of the Vault Keeper.

The man moved like a shadow given life, his curved dagger gleaming with dark energy. Even now, he held Sylva's wrist in an iron grip, stopping her attack mid-strike.

She snarled, twisting, trying to break free.

The Keeper didn't even flinch.

Jarek's instincts screamed. He lunged forward, swinging his sword.

The Keeper let go of Sylva and spun to meet him.

Jarek barely saw the blur of motion before his blade was parried with unnatural precision. A shockwave of force knocked him off balance.

He gritted his teeth, recovering quickly. This guy isn't normal.

Lena didn't hesitate. She dove in low, her dagger flashing toward the Keeper's ribs.

He moved too fast, his body twisting impossibly—avoiding the strike by inches.

Tobias cursed behind them. "Oh, lovely. He's a Void-Touched."

Jarek's stomach dropped.

Void-Touched.

That meant the Keeper wasn't just a skilled fighter—he was enhanced by dark magic.

Jarek's grip tightened on his sword. "You could've mentioned that sooner!"

Tobias shrugged. "Slipped my mind."

Lena cursed and launched another attack. Sylva joined her, daggers flashing in unison.

The Keeper flowed between their strikes like water, his movements precise and almost… inhuman.

Jarek's pulse pounded. He wasn't just strong. He was toying with them.

And that meant one thing.

They were in trouble.

A Losing Battle

The Keeper vanished—one moment he was there, the next, he had stepped behind Lena in a blink.

Jarek's eyes widened. "LENA, MOVE!"

She twisted—just as the Keeper's dagger slashed toward her throat.

At the last second, she ducked—but not fast enough.

A thin red line appeared across her cheek.

Lena's eyes darkened. She backflipped away before the Keeper could finish the job.

Sylva lunged again, aiming for his exposed side—

But the Keeper caught her wrist mid-air and threw her across the room.

Sylva slammed into a glass case, shattering it.

Tobias winced. "Ouch."

Jarek's blood ran cold. He's dismantling us.

His heartbeat pounded. The Heart of Ruin stirred, whispering at the edge of his mind.

Use me.

Jarek clenched his jaw. Not yet.

The Keeper turned toward him. His dagger pulsed with dark energy.

"You," he murmured. His voice was calm—too calm. "You are not like the others."

Jarek gripped his sword tighter. "Yeah, well. I get that a lot."

The Keeper tilted his head. "I smell the Ruin in you."

Jarek stiffened.

The Keeper smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.

"Let's see how deep it runs."

He vanished.

Jarek barely had time to react.

The Keeper reappeared in front of him, striking so fast that Jarek could barely raise his sword in time.

The impact shook his bones.

He stumbled back, gritting his teeth. Too fast. Too strong.

The Heart whispered again.

Let me in.

Jarek's breath shuddered.

Then the Keeper struck again.

The Breaking Point

Jarek blocked, barely. The force drove him to one knee.

The Keeper loomed over him, dagger raised for a killing blow.

Jarek's pulse screamed.

No choice.

He let the Heart in.

Dark power surged through his veins. His vision sharpened. The world slowed.

The Keeper's blade came down—

Jarek moved.

Faster than he ever had.

He twisted, dodging the strike by a hair, and slammed his fist into the Keeper's chest.

The impact sent the man flying.

The Keeper crashed into a marble pillar, the force cracking the stone.

Jarek panted, his arms tingling with raw power.

Lena stared. "…What the hell was that?"

Jarek exhaled shakily. "The only reason we're not dead."

The Keeper rose slowly, dusting himself off. He grinned.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting."

Jarek's gut twisted.

That wasn't the look of a man angry about being knocked down.

That was the look of a man excited.

And that was terrifying.

A Desperate Move

The Keeper vanished again.

This time, Jarek was ready.

The Heart of Ruin's power heightened his senses. He felt the shift in the air—

He spun, swinging his sword behind him.

The Keeper appeared in its path—but caught the blade with his bare hand.

Jarek's stomach dropped.

The Keeper smirked. His fingers tightened around Jarek's sword.

"Not enough," he murmured.

Then he drove his dagger toward Jarek's chest.

Lena intercepted, her blade clashing against his at the last second. Sparks exploded.

"SYLVA!" Lena shouted.

Sylva—who had recovered—lunged from behind.

Her twin daggers slashed across the Keeper's back.

He stiffened.

Lena seized the moment—slamming a knee into his ribs.

The Keeper staggered.

Jarek saw his one chance.

He lunged forward, slamming his fist into the Keeper's chest again—this time, fully embracing the Heart's power.

The air rippled.

The Keeper was blasted backward—this time, crashing through a glass case.

He didn't rise immediately.

Sylva panted. "Did… did we get him?"

Jarek didn't answer.

His eyes were locked on the amulet.

The Amulet of Veilborn.

Sitting unguarded on the pedestal.

Lena followed his gaze. "Jarek—"

He moved.

Without hesitation, he snatched the amulet from the pedestal.

The moment his fingers closed around it, a pulse of magic exploded outward.

The entire vault began to shake.

Tobias paled. "Uh. That's probably bad."

A distant alarm blared.

The Keeper began to rise, his eyes burning with fury now.

Jarek's grip tightened around the amulet.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Time to run."