The oppressive weight of the four ancestral voices had somewhat dissipated from Renn's immediate consciousness, but the burning sensation of the Reliquary map—now a complete, intricate tapestry of forgotten lands in his System inventory—remained a persistent hum. Morning had broken over the Sylvan Bastion, or "Twin Peaks Sanctuary" as he provisionally named his new domain. The sounds of reconstruction, the distant orders of Templars securing the newly conquered territory, and the constant hum of the Primeval Essence Pool (once Valka and Nyra confirmed its location and cleared initial access) formed the backdrop to a new, pressing mystery.
Renn stood with his inner circle—Lilith, Seraphina, Nyra, and Valka—in the Bastion's main hall, which a squad of discreetly efficient Templars was slowly clearing of Ardyn's ostentatious elven decor. The Reliquary map was projected holographically onto the central table, its light casting shifting patterns on their faces. The new symbol, the tear, pulsed faintly in a densely forested region within the Sylvan territory's borders—an area still shrouded by the persistent Mist of Faith.
"A tear," Valka murmured, her voice like a distant ocean wave. Her hand was pressed to her chest, where she had felt the sympathetic resonance. "When the Primeval Essence Pool was fully secured and its energy began to flow fully through the territory, that's when I felt the awakening, my lord. And the map responded. It is not a call like that of the Whispering Peaks. This is... an echo. A resonance of faith, pure and ancient, similar to that of the original Sanctuary, but... dormant. Now, it stirs."
Nyra, her violet eyes narrowed in concentration as she studied the holographic map, traced the outline of the mist-shrouded sector. "The Pool's energy must have acted as a catalyst, my lord. If there is such a source of pure faith so close, and within our newly expanded borders, it is imperative we investigate. It could be a blessing for the Order, or a complication we must understand."
"Complications," Renn grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Seems I collect those." He gazed at the tear symbol. "But if it's something of the Order, or related to our faith, we cannot ignore it." He made his decision. "Nyra, you will come. Your arcane knowledge and shadows will be indispensable. Eryn!" he called out, and the stoic Templar Commander, who had been overseeing the hall's cleanup, immediately approached, her armor gleaming.
"My lord," Eryn acknowledged with a crisp salute.
"Prepare a squad. You will lead the Templars. I want you to come with us. Your experience in these woods and your steady hand with the girls will be needed."
Eryn's normally stern face showed a flicker of grim satisfaction. "It will be an honor, my lord. How many sisters?"
Renn considered. "Four more with you. I want a nimble but hard-hitting team. Melisa," he said, and the eager, cheerful Templar bounded forward, her newly acquired dagger already in hand, "your enthusiasm and your... particular combat style will be welcome." Melisa grinned, puffing out her chest slightly. "Astrid, your brute strength will serve us well if we encounter something... large." Astrid, a mountain of a woman whose battle cries were legendary, grinned fiercely and cracked her knuckles. "Lin," he continued, his voice softening slightly as he addressed the newest, shyer Templar, "this is a good opportunity for you to gain more experience under Eryn's eye. Stay alert." Lin nodded nervously but with a spark of determination in her eyes. "And Thalia," he concluded, and the solid, dependable Templar who often fought alongside Eryn stepped forward, holding her spear with familiar ease. "You will round out the squad."
Lilith, who had been quite dramatically draped over a pile of discarded elven silks, pouted. "And what about me, my lord? Am I left here to supervise the polishing of floors while you go adventuring?" Her Succubus Seraph wings twitched with playful indignation.
Renn smiled. "You, my dear Seraph, have an equally important task. I want you, alongside Seraphina, to oversee the ritual preparations at the Primeval Essence Pool. The Tithe isn't going to pay itself, and Nyra's skill at transmuting resources is our best bet. I need everything ready and secure."
Seraphina, who had remained a silent, luminous presence, bowed her head. "Understood, my lord. We will ensure the Pool is prepared and the Bastion's defenses do not falter in your absence. Valka, your connection to primal energies will also be invaluable here."
Valka nodded. "The Pool's currents are potent, my lord. I will aid Nyra in channeling them for your purpose."
With roles assigned, the small expedition team—Renn, Nyra, Eryn, Melisa, Astrid, Lin, and Thalia—prepared to depart. Each Templar carried customary provisions and their newly sanctified weapons from the Bastion's armory, courtesy of the previous day's work in the Sacred Workshop.
They reached the edge of the Sylvan territory an hour later, where the oppressive, gray Mist of Faith clung to the ancient trees like a tenacious shroud, obscuring everything beyond. The tear symbol on Renn's projected map pulsed insistently from its depths.
"This is it," Nyra confirmed, her hand resting on the hilt of a slim, dark blade at her hip. "The resonance is strong."
Renn drew one of his remaining Chalices of Revelation. He still had seven left from earlier use. "May the light show us the way," he murmured, activating it.
[System: Chalice of Revelation activated. Dispelling Mist of Faith in designated sector…]
A golden light erupted from the chalice, warm and pure, cutting through the dense gray mist. The fog hissed and recoiled, slowly dissolving like morning mist under the rising sun. It revealed a hidden valley, surprisingly lush and untouched by recent battles. Ancient, silver-barked trees formed a serene canopy, and a narrow, crystal-clear stream gurgled over moss-covered stones. The air felt… cleaner there, imbued with a serene sanctity.
But the peace was a facade. As they stepped further into the valley, a guttural roar echoed from the densest part of the grove ahead. Eryn immediately signaled the Templars to form a defensive formation, spears at the ready.
"Forest Stone Trolls," Nyra identified, her eyes scanning the shadows between the trees. "Larger and more robust than common trolls. Territorial and exceptionally resistant to conventional magic." She drew her own sword, its dark metal seemingly drinking the light. "A dozen, perhaps more. Two appear to be Alphas."
"Twelve or a hundred, it's all the same," Astrid boomed, her voice eager for battle. She hefted her massive war-spear. "They'll fall before the Order!"
"Melisa, Lin, with Astrid at the vanguard," Eryn ordered, her voice sharp and precise. "Thalia, right flank with me. Nyra, my lord, cover center and rear. For the Order!"
The trolls lumbered into view—hulking beasts of green and grey mottled stone, their eyes glowing with a dull, malevolent orange. Their thick hides looked like animated rock, and their massive, club-like fists dragged on the ground. The two Alphas were easily half again as tall as the others, their roars shaking the leaves off the trees.
The battle unfolded with a ferocity that belied the expedition's size. Nyra was a whirlwind of shadows and deadly grace. A "Veil of Eternal Shadows" erupted from the ground, dark, cold tendrils wrapping around the legs of three trolls, tripping them and sending them roaring in frustration. Before they could break free, Nyra glided among them like a wraith, her dark sword a blur that left deep, bleeding gashes in their stony backs, thick black blood oozing from the wounds.
Eryn, a stark contrast in her gleaming silver armor, met an Alpha troll's charge head-on. Her spear, imbued with the Order's faith, became a golden streak. She parried a punch that would have pulverized a man with skilled footwork, the force of the impact vibrating up her arm, then lunged forward, her spear tip finding a fissure in the troll's natural armor, sinking deep into its chest. The Alpha roared, a guttural sound of pain and surprise, before crashing to the ground with the force of a felled oak.
Astrid, with a battle cry that would chill a demon's blood, engaged the second Alpha. Her heavy war-spear was an extension of her fury, each strike sending shards of stone flying from the troll's hide. The Alpha attempted to crush her, but Astrid, surprisingly nimble for her size, dodged and counter-attacked, her spear whistling as it opened gruesome wounds.
Melisa, with her characteristic predatory grin, danced among the lesser trolls. Her dagger and a short spear she had adopted as a secondary weapon were a steel blur. She leaped onto a troll's back, plunging her dagger into the base of its skull with a sickening crunch. Another tried to grab her, but she rolled under its legs, her short spear slicing its belly open in an upward slash. "This is more fun than hunting crying elves!" she yelled, dodging a fist and embedding her dagger into another troll's knee, making it howl.
Thalia, solid and methodical, secured Eryn's flank. Her spear was a hammer, each thrust breaking the trolls' formation, each sweep knocking them down. A troll attempted to charge Eryn from behind, but Thalia intercepted it with a blow that sent it flying into a tree with wood-splitting force.
Lin, the rookie, fought with fierce concentration. At first, her movements were slightly hesitant, but the inspiration of her sisters and Eryn's clear orders centered her. She deflected a clumsy troll strike and, remembering her training, slid to the side and plunged her spear into the beast's exposed flank. The troll staggered, and Lin, with a cry of effort, pushed deeper, bringing it down. A small, triumphant smile touched her lips.
Renn watched, not as a passive spectator, but as a commander. His sacred order system gave him no direct combat abilities at the moment, but his presence, his faith, was an anchor for the Order. He intervened only if absolutely necessary, trusting in the prowess of his followers. The efficiency of his Order was terrifying; the trolls, despite their strength and resilience, were being systematically dismantled.
Within minutes, the battle concluded. Twelve stone trolls lay dead or dying, their black blood staining the valley's pristine grass. The Templars were barely sweating, their breaths steady, their weapons ready. Eryn did a quick headcount, nodding approvingly at Lin, who looked both exultant and relieved.
"Area secured, my lord," Eryn reported.
Nyra was already moving toward the heart of the valley, where the faith resonance was strongest. "This way, my lord."
They followed Nyra through a barely visible path, which opened into a circular clearing. In the center, bathed in a soft light that seemed to emanate from it, stood a statue. It was of a tall woman, robed in simple yet elegant attire, her features serene and filled with ancient wisdom. Her hands were extended in a gesture of blessing or protection. It was made of a smooth, white stone, almost translucent, and at its base, barely visible beneath a thin layer of moss, were intricate symbols Renn instantly recognized: they were precursors to those adorning the Sanctuary of Faith. The statue emanated a powerful aura of sanctity and peace.
Next to the statue's base, a small cluster of pale, ethereal blue crystals grew, emitting a soft hum and the scent of fresh ozone.
"Incredible…" Renn whispered, approaching slowly. The feeling of familiarity, of belonging, was overwhelming.
As he reached out to touch the statue's cool, smooth surface, it began to vibrate. The light emanating from it intensified, and the tear symbol on Renn's holographic map pulsed with a blinding light in response, before the entire map contracted and vanished. The statue... it was reacting to him.