Story Title :- idle guy
Chapter 20: The Ruined Reach
The world here was wrong.
Kael felt it the moment they stepped out of the portal. The cold wind cut through his cloak like razors, but it wasn’t the chill that disturbed him—it was the silence. No birds. No howling wind. Not even the crunch of their boots made sound on the frozen ground. It was like the land itself refused to speak.
They stood at the edge of a vast battlefield. Corpses littered the frostbitten plains, but they weren’t human. Towering skeletal remains—some with wings, some with horns, others with mechanical limbs fused to bone—lay half-buried beneath the ice. Weapons of impossible design lay shattered and rusted around them. The ruins of titanic machines jutted from the frozen soil like ribs from a dead god.
“The Ruined Reach,” Kael muttered. “Where gods died.”
Lira walked a step behind him, her breath visible in the air. “I thought this was a myth.”
“It was meant to be,” Kael said. “Like Varok. Like Seros. Forgotten on purpose.”
They passed a stone obelisk wrapped in rusted chains, its surface covered in glyphs Kael couldn’t read—yet somehow understood.
Here fell the Ascended. Here silence was born.
“What are we looking for?” Lira asked, her voice low.
Kael closed his eyes, reaching inward. The Riftheart responded immediately—its heat pulsed against his ribs like a second heartbeat, humming with power. His mind swam with images: a gate of black fire… a beast with no face… a woman in silver armor holding a crystal spear.
He opened his eyes. “The last key. It’s buried beneath the Citadel of Ash.”
Lira looked toward the dark mountain in the distance. A twisted spire rose from its peak, broken and crumbling, like a claw reaching for the void.
“You’re not going to like what we find in there,” she said.
“I already don’t,” Kael replied.
The March Through the Dead
They trekked for hours in silence. Kael's every step echoed with memory, with things he couldn’t have known but remembered anyway.
He saw flashes of war—of Seros, commanding legions of mages alongside gods. He remembered names: Varellion the Thunder-Walker, whose voice split mountains; Suriya the Flameborn, who danced in stars. He remembered fighting alongside them. And he remembered their screams as Varok consumed them—body, soul, memory.
It wasn’t a war. It was a devouring.
“You okay?” Lira asked, watching him from under her hood.
“No,” he admitted. “But I can see it all now. What he was. What I was. What we were trying to stop.”
“And what does the last key do?”
Kael stopped walking. The wind tore at his cloak.
“It unlocks the Gate of Endings. A prison beyond time, outside this world. It’s where we sealed him—sealed me.”
Lira's brow furrowed. “Then why do we need it?”
Kael met her eyes. “Because the seal is breaking. And if I don’t get there first—Varok will.”
The Ashen Citadel
The Citadel loomed above them by nightfall. Blackened stone walls stretched into the sky, scorched by flame and battle. Great scars marked the surface where celestial weapons had struck. Its gates—twenty feet high—hung ajar, creaking gently with the wind.
Kael stepped inside and felt it immediately: the air shimmered with leftover magic, and beneath it, a heartbeat. A slow, massive pulse of power that had waited ages for someone to come back.
The entrance hall was a cathedral of war. Murals painted in blood and gold told the story of the Fall—Seros wielding the Crown, casting Varok into the void. Lira lit a torch, and the flames revealed faded inscriptions:
To rise again, the dark must consume its birth.
“It’s a trap,” she said. “This whole place. It’s waiting for you.”
Kael nodded. “Good. I’m tired of running.”
The Guardian
At the heart of the Citadel stood a chamber of obsidian, and within it—a throne.
The being that sat there had once been a man. His armor was fused to his flesh, and his eyes glowed blue like cold stars. Wings of lightless metal curved behind him, and chains of golden script wrapped around his limbs. His voice echoed before he spoke.
“Seros.”
Kael’s grip tightened on his sword. “Not anymore.”
The guardian rose. “You were the Warden of the Gate. You chose to forget. To divide yourself and scatter your power. You betrayed your purpose.”
Kael’s voice was firm. “I chose to protect the world, not enslave it.”
“You are weakness incarnate,” the guardian said. “But your presence awakens the key.”
The floor split beneath them. The black crystal heart of the Citadel rose from the depths, pulsing with ancient energy.
Kael stepped forward.
“Then I’ll take what’s mine.”
The Battle of the Citadel
The guardian moved like lightning. In a single heartbeat, his blade of spectral iron clashed with Kael’s Riftblade, the air cracking with magical force. Sparks flew. The chamber trembled.
Kael ducked a sweep, spun low, and struck—but the guardian blocked with inhuman speed.
“You were my brother!” the guardian roared. “You broke the oath!”
“I broke the cycle!” Kael shouted, flaring with Riftlight. “You wanted eternal war!”
Their blades locked. Energy exploded outward, shattering the obsidian floor.
Lira hurled daggers from the edge—one found its mark in the guardian’s knee. He staggered, just enough for Kael to strike.
The Riftblade sank deep.
The guardian gasped. “Then finish it. Be who you are.”
Kael hesitated.
Then he pulled the blade free—and turned away.
“Who I am… is still changing.”
The Final Key
The guardian fell to one knee, smiling despite the blood. He raised a trembling hand toward the crystal.
It cracked.
Light poured from it—white, blue, and violet. Symbols spun around Kael, burning into the air. The power was overwhelming—memories, strength, echoes of godhood pouring into him like a flood. He saw the Gate. He saw what lay beyond.
And he saw Varok.
Not a monster.
Not a god.
Just a wound. A hollow. A hunger made sentient.
And it was waiting for him.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping. Lira rushed to his side.
“You okay?”
Kael looked up, eyes glowing faintly.
“I remember everything now.”
The Gate Beckons
They left the Citadel that night, moving swiftly across the Reach. Kael carried the final key within him now. The Riftheart. The Crown. The Memory. And now—the Catalyst.
All four pieces of the puzzle that sealed away Varok.
They had only one destination left.
The Gate of Endings.
A door not of this world.
Lira kept close. “You sure you can hold him back?”
Kael didn’t answer right away. The Rift pulsed in his chest like a sleeping storm.
“No,” he said at last. “But I’ll make sure the world forgets him one last time.”
And if I have to die to do it… so be it.
End of Chapter 20
