The wind howled over the craggy cliffs of Temeria as the bell tower loomed like a fractured tooth above the rocky hillside. A jagged silhouette at dusk, the old temple ruins bore deep cracks and missing stones as though time itself had tried to erase its presence.
Cain stood at the base of the tower, hood drawn up, his Witcher medallion vibrating faintly against his chest.
The others stayed back at the keep. This contract, after all, was listed as a solo trial.
> [Quest Accepted: "Ruins Beneath the Bell" – Rare] Objective: Investigate magical anomalies under the ruined bell tower. Reward: 90 Crowns | Silver-etched Rune x1 | +1 Stat Point (Solo Completion Bonus)
He approached the outer threshold carefully, eyes scanning the glyphs etched along the crumbled archway. Faint blue lines shimmered where old magic lingered.
He ran a gloved hand over the stone.
"An old Aen Seidhe shrine. Forgotten by the locals. Corrupted by time... or something worse."
Drawing his silver blade, Cain activated Yrden, watching as the Sign pulsed softly around him, repelling the faintest traces of necrotic magic. He descended slowly into the depths beneath the tower.
The staircase spiraled downward in tight curves, each step echoing like distant drums. Mold crept along the walls, and the deeper he went, the colder the air grew.
At the bottom, the corridor widened into a dome-like chamber supported by cracked marble columns. In the center, a long-dry fountain stood surrounded by runes glowing with unstable power.
Cain knelt beside them.
"Warding sigils," he murmured. "And... a binding circle. Something was sealed here. Recently broken."
Then the air shifted.
From the shadows came a whisper.
Not a voice.
A memory.
"Elgar… forgive me... it was never meant to wake…"
The runes flared violently.
From the fountain, a figure rose.
Not a ghost.
Not a wraith.
A Revenant – the decaying body of a long-dead elven priest, now animated by fragmented magical energy. Runes blazed across its ribcage, and spectral tendrils extended from its hands.
> [Combat Initiated: Revenant of Elgar] Type: Spectral Undead HP: ??? Weakness: Quen, Moon Oil, Spiritbane Bombs
Cain stepped back and coated his silver blade with Moon Oil, the smell of night flowers and wolfsbane filling the air.
The Revenant attacked.
Cain deflected the first spectral lash with a precise parry, ducked beneath the second, and retaliated with a rising slash that cleaved through rotting robes and sparked against runed bone.
The Revenant hissed, summoning a barrage of floating glyphs that launched bolts of dark energy.
Cain dove behind a fallen column, rolled, and countered with Aard, shattering two of the glyphs. He followed with a Spiritbane Bomb, which burst with blue-white fire, forcing the Revenant into retreat.
"You're not whole," Cain muttered. "You're an echo. A memory pretending to be a monster."
The Revenant screamed and lunged, claws laced with burning essence.
Cain activated Quen, the magical shield absorbing the blow as he reversed his grip and plunged his blade through the creature's sternum.
For a heartbeat, everything froze.
Then the runes on the Revenant's body flared—
And shattered.
The Revenant disintegrated into motes of blue dust, fading into the cold air like snow in firelight.
> [Enemy Defeated: Revenant of Elgar] Reward: Silver-etched Rune x1 | +1 Stat Point
Cain stumbled back, breathing heavy. Blood dripped from a gash along his arm, but it was shallow. He limped toward the broken fountain, where a small crystal pulsed faintly within a hollow pedestal.
> [Quest Complete: "Ruins Beneath the Bell"] Reward: 90 Crowns | Silver-etched Rune x1 | +1 Stat Point
Cain picked it up, storing it in his inventory.
> [Item Gained: Silver-etched Rune] Description: Engraved with ancient protection wards. Can be socketed into gear for +10% resistance to spectral attacks.
> [Stat Point Added Automatically: Vitality +1]
The system chimed again softly.
> [Codex Updated: Revenants - Elven Variants] Revenants are fragments of souls anchored to ancient magic, often misunderstood as ghosts. Elven variants are rarer and more volatile due to their connection to lingering leyline power.
Cain exhaled and looked around.
The shrine was still now. Silent.
He began the long climb back up.
The evening in the keep was lively when he returned. Calanthe had organized a gathering of scholars, and Callum had won a sparring match against two off-duty guards.
Cain entered quietly, his cloak stained with dust and faint traces of blue energy. He tossed a coin pouch onto the war table and set the rune beside it.
Callum raised an eyebrow. "That from the bell tower?"
Cain nodded.
Calanthe looked impressed. "You fought something in there, didn't you?"
"You could say that," Cain replied. "It fought like a ghost but thought like a man."
He poured a drink and leaned against the table.
"Three down. One to go."
Calanthe rolled a scroll across the table. "The haunted grain silo in Dunnhar. Simple work. Locals say it's just cursed grain."
Callum cracked his knuckles. "Sounds like rat duty. I'll take it."
Cain raised his cup.
"To clean grain and cursed ghosts."
They toasted.
And outside, thunder rolled over the Temerian hills.