The vibrations intensified, the earth groaning in protest as rocks and dirt shifted beneath Robert's control. He extended both hands, his fingers spread wide, his focus entirely on the massive structure hidden below the surface. With a deep, resonant hum, the ground split further, soil spraying outward in small waves as if repelled by an unseen force.
Hamish and Snow stood at a safe distance, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and caution.
"Chief, what exactly are ye digging up?" Hamish called, his broadsword resting against his shoulder as he eyed the growing rift in the ground.
"No idea," Robert admitted, his voice tight with concentration. "But something tells me it's important."
The earth groaned once more, and then, with a grinding sound that echoed across the dig site, the first of the stones emerged. A massive granite platform, covered in dirt and dust, rose steadily into view. It was large enough to support a house, its surface etched with faint, weathered runes that flickered weakly, a pale echo of their former power.
Robert gestured again, his intent clear. The soil beneath the platform began to compact and solidify, forming a sturdy foundation as the platform settled into place. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he sharply exhaled, the strain of his earth magic evident. Yet the work remained unfinished. With a final wave of his hand, he flung the remaining dirt aside, revealing the fragmented base of what had once been a colossal archway.
The remnants of the arch were pitifully incomplete. Two thick stone columns jutted upward, their tops jagged and broken. Veins of depleted mana crystals ran through the stone, glinting faintly in the sunlight, hinting at a time when they must have blazed with power. Each arch block had a shallow groove on its face, as if something had been removed or lost.
Reaching into his satchel, Robert pulled out a depleted mana crystal from the arch and a small shard of granite from the platform. With Essence Harmony, he channeled his magic, blending the crystal's faint mana resonance with the granite's earthy stability. The skill hummed, the materials merging into a small, glowing lens that shimmered with a soft, earthen light. Holding it up to the archway, he peered through it, the lens revealing hidden patterns in the runes that pulsed faintly with latent energy.
"Interesting," Robert murmured, noting how the lens amplified the runes' glow. "There's more to this arch than meets the eye. Maybe this can help us later."
Snow stepped forward, her hand resting on her warstaff as she examined the structure. "It's beautiful, in a way. But what is it?"
Robert shook his head, his mind racing. "I don't know, but I think we're about to find out."
A familiar voice, melodic and brimming with authority, echoed in Robert's mind. "The Keystone Gateway."
He froze. "The what?"
Moira's voice grew softer, almost reverent. "The Keystone Gateway, Vessel. It is considered one of the most powerful tools of the magical age. It is a portal, a bridge between distant places. When whole, it could connect Albion's influence to one hundred and eight locations across the planet. It was a marvel of ingenuity, crafted by the Archmages of the First Age."
Robert turned his gaze back to the archway, his thoughts spinning. "But it's broken."
"Yes," Moira said, her tone tinged with regret. "The Calamity, the great event that stripped Earth of its magic, destroyed most of the gateways, scattering their keystones to the winds. All that's left is merely a semblance of its previous state."
Hamish tapped one of the jagged columns with the flat of his sword. "It appears to be more than just a shadow to me. But how does it work? Or does it work at all?"
Robert reached into his satchel, pulling out the Runestone he had taken from Langston after the attack on the dig site. He held it up, the faintly glowing rune etched into its surface catching the light.
Moira gasped softly. "That is a keystone rune."
"A what now?" Robert asked, turning the stone over in his hands.
"It is one of the pieces required to restore the gateway," Moira explained. "Each block of the arch requires its own rune, each connected to a specific location. The keystone rune you hold is unique; it fits into the highest block, the crown of the archway. It is the key that activates and stabilizes the entire structure."
Robert stared at the runestone, then back at the arch. "So if I find the rest of the runes, I can rebuild this thing? Make it work again?"
"In theory, yes," Moira said, though her tone was cautious. "But the task will not be easy. Time has lost many of the keystone runes, scattering them across the world. Some may be in ruins, others in the hands of those who would misuse them."
Snow's eyes widened. "You mean someone else could rebuild a gateway like this? And use it for evil?"
Moira's response was immediate. "Yes. We must protect this gateway, Vessel. It is a tool of immense power, and in the wrong hands, it could bring devastation."
Hamish let out a low whistle. "Aye, no pressure then."
Robert rubbed the back of his neck, staring up at the broken archway. "Alright. First things first. Let's see if this keystone rune even fits."
He stepped forward, climbing onto the platform. The surface was smooth, almost unnaturally so, and the faint glow of the depleted mana crystals pulsed faintly as he approached. Reaching up, he placed the runestone into the indentation at the topmost block of the arch.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft hum, the Runestone sank into place, its rune lighting up with a gentle golden glow. The depleted crystals along the base of the arch flickered, a faint echo of their former power sparking to life.
"It fits," Robert breathed, stepping back. "But it's barely holding together. It needs the rest of the runes."
Moira's voice was warm with approval. "You have taken the first step, Vessel. The restoration of the Keystone Gateway will be a long journey, but it is one worth taking. With each rune you recover, you will bring this marvel of magic closer to its former glory."
Robert turned to Hamish and Snow, his expression resolute. "Looks like we have another mission."
As Robert stood back, admiring the soft glow of the keystone rune now resting in its rightful place atop the arch, Moira's voice broke the silence in his mind.
"Mission? Oh, that's right! I was so distracted I almost forgot. Sorry about that, Vessel!" she said, her tone unusually flustered for someone so regal. "I meant to give you a mission to find out what this was. My memory isn't what it used to be; it's been a few thousand years, you know."
Robert raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "A few thousand years? I'd say that's a decent excuse."
Moira ignored the jest, her tone shifting to one of authority. "Vessel, your task was to uncover what lay buried here, and you have done so magnificently. This archway, fractured as it is, holds immeasurable potential. I can feel its dormant power yearning to awaken."
Robert felt a familiar surge in his chest as his mana core pulsed brightly, a sign that Moira's words were not just empty praise but came with a tangible reward. A new item materialized in his hand, glittering faintly with light: a small, crystalline shard radiating an aura of untapped power.
"A skill crystal?" Robert muttered, inspecting it closely.
"Yes," Moira replied warmly. "You've earned it. That crystal contains a random skill, already developed to an impressive level. I cannot tell you what it holds, but I trust it will serve you well."
Robert felt the crystal's hum as he held it up to the light, its runes swirling like trapped fireflies. With a deep breath, he decided to trust his instincts. Closing his eyes, he focused on the crystal, the hum of magic syncing with the M-power flowing through his core. The crystal dissolved in his hands, crumbling into shimmering motes of light that flowed into his mana core. A notification flared to life in his mind, words forming with the clarity of a spoken voice: You have gained a new skill: Monster Naming. Level Ten.
Robert blinked. "Monster Naming?"
Hamish straightened, his eyebrows lifting. "What's that? Some kind of special magic?"
"It's, well, I can name monsters now," Robert said, still processing the information flowing into his memory.
Hamish raised a skeptical brow, unimpressed. "Hell, I can do that. Congrats, I guess."
Robert rolled his eyes but didn't respond. Instead, Moira's voice chimed in his mind, soft and full of reverence. "Vessel, do you understand the rarity of what you've just acquired? The ability to name creatures with true power is nearly unheard of. It is not a mere title you bestow but a gift of strength, identity, and purpose. Your fortunate soul has granted you a skill that few could ever dream of obtaining."
"Fortunate soul, huh?" Robert muttered, glancing toward the kobolds patrolling the settlement's entrance. One in particular caught his eye. The little ratman was pacing back and forth in front of the gate, a tiny spear clutched in its clawed hands. Its iron spearhead gleamed faintly in the sunlight, and despite the kobold's diminutive size, it marched with all the seriousness of a royal guard.
Well, almost. Every now and then, the kobold would jab its spear at random rocks, shouting in a high-pitched squeak, "Who goes der!?" before punting the offending pebble away.
Robert chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, let's test this out."
He gestured for the kobold to come over. The little creature froze mid-march, its nose twitching nervously. After a moment's hesitation, it scampered over, standing at rigid attention. "You call Mushmouth? Me busy patrol!"
"Mushmouth?" Robert asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that your name?"
The kobold's whiskers twitched as it scratched its head. "Name? De udders callz me Mushmouth on daaccount I no speaken da bess."
Robert tilted his head, his new skill stirring faintly as the kobold spoke. He could feel it: not a name of power, not one that resonated with identity or strength. It was a nickname, nothing more, and it lacked the weight his skill demanded. According to Moira, only someone with the authority of this skill could grant a name of true power.
"Well," Robert said, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Mushmouth won't do. Let's give you a proper name." He paused, considering the creature before him. Not as well-formed as the others of his kin, a bit runty, and clearly bullied for his speech. "I wonder if the name I choose will affect what happens to him," Robert pondered. He decided to test the theory. "A great poet's name is what you should have, my friend. One of my favorites. And a character from one of my favorite movies holds a special place in my heart: A Warrior's Tale."
"Mushmouth, by my authority as your master, I dub thee Chaucer. Geoffery Chaucer," Robert decreed.
The kobold blinked, its expression blank for a moment. Then, something extraordinary happened. A golden glow surrounded the little creature, its tiny body straightening as if an unseen force had lifted it. The glow intensified, and the kobold's beady eyes widened in awe as it looked down at its hands, which now gleamed faintly with newfound power.
"What dis feel?" The kobold squeaked, its voice suddenly clearer, more precise. It flexed its claws, the glow fading as it fell to one knee in front of Robert. "Master, Chaucer serves."
Hamish's jaw dropped, and Snow clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Robert, what did you do?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Robert shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the thrill coursing through him. "I named him."
Snow brightened immediately at the mention of A Warrior's Tale. "Oh! I love that movie! 'Did he change his stars?' Ugh! So sweet and sad!" She quoted a sappy moment from the film, her voice softening with emotion.
Hamish smirked, his tone gruff but amused. "I'll turn your entrails into your extrails. I will. Pain. Lots of pain." He mimicked a menacing line, his broad shoulders shaking with a chuckle.
Robert flashed a smile at both of them, the shared reference lightening the air. "See? A fitting name for our little poet warrior here."
Hamish shook his head, muttering, "Chaucer. Ye named a kobold after some poet bloke. What's next, eh? Shakespeare the Brute?"
Snow laughed softly, stepping closer to the newly named Chaucer. "He looks different. He's glowing from within. Look!"
Moira's voice returned, brimming with pride. "You see now, Vessel, the weight of this skill. Chaucer is no longer simply a kobold. He is marked by your will, his potential unlocked. Every name you grant will carry this power, shaping the destiny of those you bestow it upon. But it will drain you. The mightier the beast, the more mana will be taken from you and infused into your subject."
Robert looked down at Chaucer, who gazed up at him with an almost comical mix of awe and determination. "Alright, Chaucer," he said, gesturing toward the gate. "Back to your patrol."
Chaucer leapt to his feet, saluting with his tiny spear. "Yes, Master Robert!" he squeaked, his voice now crisp and confident. He scampered back to the gate, his movements more purposeful, his presence somehow more commanding despite his size.
Hamish watched him go, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, Chief, I'll say one thing: ye've got a knack for the unexpected."
Robert stood in the clearing, the skill crystal's essence still settling in his mind. He could feel the latent power of Monster Naming pulsing within him, a skill unlike anything he had ever wielded. This wasn't just about assigning cute or funny titles; it was a fundamental shift, a way to weave magic into the very identity of the creatures he named. He could sense Chaucer now. The kobold's agility and confidence were steadily increasing. The evolution hadn't finished, not yet.
As he contemplated the skill, Moira's voice filled his thoughts, her tone steady and encouraging. "Vessel, your skill has reached its first peak. You may now choose its evolution. The paths before you will shape how this power grows; choose wisely."
Three options flickered into his mind, vivid as if etched in light:
Sovereign Namer: Unite those you name under a shared bond, granting them collective power and an indelible link to your essence. Those named by you will evolve into higher forms, but their strength will forever tie them to your life force. Should you fall, they risk losing all they have gained.
Prime Evolver: Unlock the ultimate potential of individual creatures, pushing their evolution to extraordinary heights. The speed and scale of their transformations will be unparalleled.
Arcane Wordsmith: Imbue each name with tailored magical properties, granting abilities aligned with your chosen intent. Names will reflect the qualities you bestow, from elemental affinities to physical prowess.
Robert crossed his arms, letting out a thoughtful hum. The Sovereign Namer path intrigued him. It wasn't only about granting power; it was about forging connections, creating something greater than the sum of its parts. Its very name teased him with future power, responsibility, and unlimited potential.
"Moira," he thought, "what happens if I choose the Sovereign Namer path?"
Her voice softened, taking on a tone of caution. "You will bind those you name to your life, Vessel. Their power will come from your essence. If you live, they thrive. If you fall, they risk reverting or even fading. It is a wonderful gift, but it demands much in return."
Robert's lips curled into a small smile. To him, it sounded as if those he named would be loyal to him by pure instinct. His naming would etch into their very soul who they must protect or risk losing all they had become. Was it a bit unfair?
Probably.
"If they wish to share in my powers, they must be loyal and protect me against turning against me. Maybe it's paranoia, but I can live with that. I choose to be the Sovereign Namer."
He felt the skill shift within him, reshaping itself as the Sovereign Namer path settled into place. A rush of energy coursed through him, and with it came understanding: he could now name individuals or groups, their power tied to his. The magical bond wasn't just a casual connection; it was a pact, an oath.
Hamish, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow as he noticed Robert's sudden focus. "What's got ye all starry-eyed, Chief?"
Robert turned to him, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, nothing much. Just upgraded my monster-naming skill. I can now give creatures a name and unite them under my power. Want to try it out? I could call you, I don't know, Braveheart or something?"
Hamish barked a laugh, his broad shoulders shaking. "Braveheart? Nah, I'm fine the way I am. Peak evolved human, thanks to Moira. A Highlander through and through. Don't need no magic name to prove it."
Snow giggled softly, her hands resting on the warstaff she always carried. "I think Hamish might be afraid of evolving into something he doesn't like."
Hamish shot her a mock glare. "I'll have ye know, lass, I'm perfectly evolved. Better than any brute or rat-man ye'll find."
Robert chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, no magical name for the Highlander. But don't come crying to me when you're jealous of how cool my named followers are."
Hamish grinned, clearly unbothered. "Oh, I'll manage, Chief. Ye just keep yer magic tricks to the critters."
Robert's gaze drifted toward the gate where the kobold guard, Mushmouth, now Chaucer, had returned to his post. The diminutive ratman was still inspecting pebbles and pretending to ward off imaginary threats, his small spear gesturing dramatically as if the rocks were invaders. Robert's new skill pulsed faintly within him, and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he tried to name a group of these creatures, unifying them under his newfound Sovereign Namer ability.
Before he could act on the thought, Moira's voice interrupted his planning. "Robert, you should train for a few days. I'm going to take a bit of a break. Hunt, train, and see to your settlement's growth. There are a few things I need to think about."
Robert appeared concerned and asked, "Are you okay? Have we done something wrong?"
Moira sent him a warm sensation that brushed across his skin. It was soothing, comforting.
"I'm fine, and no, you've all been wonderful. I just need a little time to consider." And with that, she vanished from their minds.