The wind changed.

  It was not the scent of battle nor the silence after victory. It was something older—thin, singing across the hills like a whisper carried from another world.

  Arjun stood at the edge of the charred battlefield, staring out into the vast expanse that lay before him. The lands were different here. The forests gave way to rolling plains, tall grasses swaying like an ocean of green. In the distance, faint shadows moved—tall stone structures, half-buried in nature, like bones of forgotten giants.

  The People of the Wind lived here—or so the stories said.

  A nomadic tribe, elusive and mysterious, with no permanent settlement. They lived in communion with the wind and sky, speaking in riddles and ancient hymns. Arjun had only read of them in tattered scrolls.

  Ayra approached, her arm now bound in a sling, eyes tired but resolute.

  “We should move soon. The creatures might return.”

  Arjun nodded. “I know. But we’ll need guidance through these lands. We’re not just walking into grass—we’re walking into their domain. And the wind watches everything.”

  Elaran, ever the cautious strategist, unrolled a weathered map. “There’s a canyon two leagues east. The old records mark it as the place where the Wind Priests hold their rituals. If any of them still live, that’s where we’ll find them.”

  Raaka snorted, adjusting his axe. “Or we find more monsters. Or nothing at all. Or worse—something in-between.”

  “Isn’t that always the case?” Ayra smirked.

  They began their journey.

  ---

  The hills seemed alive.

  For every step they took, the wind shifted, sometimes brushing gently like a blessing, other times cutting across their path like a warning. Strange birds watched from above. Insects clicked in patterns too rhythmic to be random.

  The sky remained open, vast, but the sun never felt quite warm. It was as if the light had to ask permission to shine here.

  After hours of walking, the ground dipped.

  They reached the edge of the canyon.

  It was massive—twisting like a scar through the land, with sheer cliffs of pale stone, layered with ancient carvings. Symbols none of them recognized. Runes shaped like feathers, spiral winds, and eyes wide open.

  “This place is sacred,” Elaran whispered.

  “Feels haunted,” Raaka replied.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Arjun stepped to the edge, peering down.

  And that’s when he saw them.

  Figures—half-transparent—walking along the canyon floor. Dozens of them. Dressed in cloaks made of wind-spun silk, their feet not quite touching the earth. They moved in harmony, humming a low, melodic chant that made Arjun’s spine tingle.

  He closed his eyes to listen.

  The song wasn’t in any tongue he knew, but it wasn’t meaningless. It had intent, rhythm, emotion. It spoke of loss. Of waiting. Of hope buried beneath sand and silence.

  “We go down,” he said.

  “No rope,” Elaran warned.

  Arjun activated his system.

  > [Karmic System – Pathfinding Mode Enabled]

  [Windwalk Protocol Activated]

  Soft golden runes formed around his feet.

  He stepped off the cliff—and floated.

  “Follow me.”

  One by one, they descended, guided by Arjun’s energy. As they touched down on the canyon floor, the song stopped.

  All the spectral figures turned to face them.

  Arjun’s heart beat faster.

  Then one stepped forward.

  An old woman—though her face had no lines, her eyes were ancient. Her voice was the wind itself.

  “You walk the path of karma, yet you bear the Flame. This is not your place, Throne Seeker.”

  Arjun bowed respectfully. “I mean no harm. I seek knowledge. The next shard.”

  She raised her hand.

  And the air responded.

  The canyon around them shimmered, and in an instant, they were no longer in the canyon—but in a temple made of air.

  Walls spun and danced like mist. The floor felt solid, but looked like a cloud. The sky above was open, yet close.

  “This is the Temple of the Ninth Wind,” the woman said. “And I am Vaashrani, Keeper of the Breath.”

  Arjun straightened. “Then you know what I carry.”

  She nodded.

  “Your karmic presence burns like a storm. But flame and wind do not coexist peacefully. You bring change. We… endure.”

  “Then help me,” Arjun said. “Because change is coming whether we want it or not.”

  Vaashrani’s eyes flickered.

  “We are not blind, child of destiny. The void creeps even here. The Forgotten were once our brothers. We failed to guide them. We watched them fall.”

  Arjun stepped forward.

  “And now?”

  She turned.

  And at the center of the temple stood a pedestal.

  On it lay a shard—pale, translucent, humming softly.

  “The Second Fragment of the Karmic Throne,” Vaashrani said. “Left here by the Wind King, eons ago. Waiting for one who could bear it.”

  Arjun’s chest tightened.

  He approached slowly. Each step heavier than the last. As if the air itself was judging his soul.

  He reached out.

  The moment his fingers touched the shard—

  The wind howled.

  His vision blurred.

  And suddenly, he stood alone.

  ---

  A vision.

  He was on a mountain, higher than any peak he’d ever known. Wind tore at his body, slicing like blades. Yet he stood firm.

  Before him sat a man with skin like silver and hair like drifting clouds. The Wind King.

  “You dare touch my legacy, boy?” the king said, his voice thunder and breeze.

  Arjun knelt. “I don’t seek to steal it. I seek to restore the balance.”

  The king studied him.

  “You carry the fire. Fire burns. Fire destroys.”

  “It also warms,” Arjun replied. “And light is born from flame.”

  The king rose.

  “Then prove it.”

  He vanished.

  And a storm rose.

  Arjun fought through a gauntlet of wind beasts—each formed from the breath of titans. He battled illusions, memories, doubts.

  Each strike tested not his strength, but his spirit.

  Until finally—

  He reached the summit.

  And the Wind King smiled.

  “Then take it. And bear the cost.”

  ---

  Arjun woke.

  The shard floated before him, now glowing with both wind and flame.

  > [Second Karmic Fragment Acquired – Breath of the Sky]

  [New Skill Unlocked: Whisperstep – Move with the Speed of the Gale]

  [Karmic Mandala Updated]

  Vaashrani smiled. “You passed.”

  Arjun bowed. “Thank you.”

  “Go now,” she said. “There are still seven fragments. And the sky darkens.”

  They left the canyon, changed.

  Stronger.

  And watched by forces yet unseen.

  Far to the west, a shadow stirred beneath a ruined city. A being of iron and memory opened its eyes.

  The next trial awaited.