The forest was dark.
Not "oh-no-I-forgot-my-torch" dark—no, this was the kind of pitch-black that whispered at your ears and tugged at your sanity. Twisted trees arched overhead like silent sentinels, and the fog crept along the ground like it had sothing to hide.
Zane, naturally, was strolling through it like he was out shopping.
"This place sucks," he muttered, ducking under a branch that tried suspiciously hard to slap him in the face. "Why is it always a creepy forest? Can't one of these artifacts ever just be in a warm tavern with free food and maybe a soft bed?"
Nyx yawned lazily in his mind. Because that would be rciful. And the system has the personality of a caffeinated sadist.
Zane rolled his eyes and scanned the area again. According to Link, the "final trail" in this forest pointed to sothing powerful—sothing not even docunted in the system archives. A rare, unrecorded relic.
His foot hit sothing solid.
He blinked and looked down. A crooked root had curled around... a buried tal chest?
"...No way."
A few hard tugs and a Shadow-enhanced punch later, the old box popped open with a wheeze of ancient air.
Inside sat nothing but a roll of faded cloth—and within it, a strange glowing ink pattern. It writhed the mont light hit it.
Then, like a viper sensing its prey, the pattern lunged.
"OH HEL—"
The ink surged up Zane's arm like liquid fire, spreading across his shoulder, his chest, his spine. It slithered and burned, rearranging itself into jagged looping runes that settled across his upper back and shoulder blades. The air shimred with raw Void energy.
Zane dropped to one knee, panting.
Then...
> [System Notification]
You have acquired: Tattoo of Echoing Wrath
This artifact marks your body with the imprint of vengeance. Every attack you unleash will now echo one second later with 70% force.
(Note: Echo strikes may hit unintended targets. Do not sue us.)
Zane blinked. "Okay... Okay, that was cool. A little horrifying. But cool."
He stood, dusted off his pants, and tried a slash with his blade toward a tree trunk.
The sword struck clean—then, exactly one second later, an identical strike tore through the sa spot again.
The tree split in half.
Zane grinned. "Oh, I like you."
Nyx cackled. You've basically turned yourself into a living combat glitch. Every enemy's going to hate this.
Link chid in, sounding impressed for once. This tattoo... it was considered cursed. Lost after a war between two nations who feared it. Anyone who bore the mark could destroy legions without rest.
Zane flexed. "Sounds like my kind of overpowered nonsense."
As he turned to leave the forest, the trees seed quieter—like even the forest had decided not to ss with him anymore.
He glanced back once. The chest was gone. The ground undisturbed.
"...Okay. Creepy, cursed forest. Zero. Zane. One."
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