An ancient relic of raw, untamed power, the Talisman of the Ursine Spirit was shaped like a meticulously carved bear-like claw, its surface smoothed by time yet brimming with an earthy, primal warmth. Fashioned from rare darkwood and wrapped in intertwining vines, its core was embedded with a small, yet mesmerizing emerald gemstone that pulsed faintly—like a heartbeat, synchronized with the very essence of nature itself.
For a druid, a talisman was more than just an accessory—it was an awakening.
Once worn, it did not merely sit upon the skin; it merged with the wielder, permanently fusing with their body, altering them from the inside out. It enhanced status attributes, reshaped the very fabric of their being, and granted the sacred ability of transformation.
As I pressed the talisman against my chest, a gentle yet consuming warmth spread through my body. My senses sharpened—each breath felt deeper, every sound more distinct. And then, it hit—a surge of overwhelming raw strength rushing through my veins, as if the ancient spirit of the Ursine itself now inhabited my body.
The transformation completed in mere moments, but the effects were undeniable. A faint, ethereal glow shimmered on my chest—shifting into the familiar pattern of the Ursa Major constellation, permanently etched into my flesh like a celestial brand.
For now, I focused on the silver lining—the Ursine Spirit Talisman granted one of the highest permanent stat increases of any druidic artifact.
Even if the brute strength boost was meaningless to me in combat, the other enhancements more than made up for it.
[Eryndor Leafshade]
[Soul Level: 1
Vitality: 4 → 29
Physical Resistance: 1 → 6
Magic Resistance: 4 → 9
Stamina: 3 → 10
Strength: 11 → 61
Agility: 5 → 15
Wisdom: 31 → 41
Willpower: 134]
[Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter]
***
The path that wound through the heart of Redridge Mountain was as treacherous as it was ancient, a jagged trail etched into the very bones of the earth. Cliffs rose sharply on either side, their stone faces worn smooth by the biting winds that howled through the highlands. With every step I took, the air grew thinner, carrying the sharp scent of pine and distant snow.
The sun, reluctant to grace this landscape, barely pierced through the ever-present mist that clung to the slopes, swirling in thick, unrelenting waves.
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Above, shadows flickered through the fog.
Harpies.
These ravenous, winged predators had long claimed Redridge Mountain as their hunting ground. Their eerie screeches filled the sky—half-hidden forms circling the peaks, their razor-sharp talons and hungry, predatory eyes searching for prey. Occasionally, one of them swooped past the sun, its dark silhouette casting ominous shadows across the rugged path.
The higher I climbed, the more distant the world below became, swallowed by an eerie, suffocating silence.
And yet, the quiet was never truly empty.
Every gust of wind carried the leathery flap of wings, the subtle rustling of feathers, the echoing caws of harpies hunting across the sky.
This mountain was not a mere passageway; it was a trial—a test of both body and spirit. And the higher I ascended, the clearer it became.
***
Kwaak!
Another Harpy fell.
I didn’t know how many I had slain by now. Dozens? Maybe more.
I had been climbing for days, battling through relentless waves of these creatures. Morning, noon, and night, they descended upon me—claws slashing, wings beating, their piercing screeches threatening to drive me mad.
If nothing else, I could say this:
Even though the strength boost from the Talisman of the Ursine Spirit was useless for my current combat style, the other stat enhancements had been a lifesaver.
Not long ago, I had struggled against Moraxus—a foe that had nearly crushed me in battle. And yet, here I was now, standing my ground against harpies that were stronger, faster, and far more vicious.
This was Day 22 of my Tower exploration. Time was running out. Soon, this cycle would end, and whatever remained unfinished would have to wait for the next rotation. There was still one final destination I had to reach before that happened. Deep within Redridge Mountain’s central region, hidden amidst the craggy peaks, lay a place of importance.
If my calculations were correct, I should have been one or two days away from reaching it.
But before that—
I paused mid-step, my fingers tightening around the remnants of my rations.
A disturbance.
A sudden shift in the air—subtle, but unmistakable.
From below the ridge, the sound of conflict.
I moved instinctively, slipping into the shadows, carefully maneuvering along the cliffside edge. Each step was measured, cautious—one wrong move, and the sheer drop below would be the end of me.
I inched forward, peering over the ledge.
My lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.
A golden opportunity.
