Chapter 12: Shattered Legacy Part 1

The Grimoire’s faint glow intensified as Karlos stared at it, its runes shimmering in a way that almost seemed… annoyed. Then, as if fed up with the silence, a deep, authoritative voice boomed from its pages.

“Respect must be earned,” the Grimoire said, cutting through the tension like a blade. “But you, boy, will never earn it if you continue to sulk and waste time.”

Karlos nearly dropped the book, his heart skipping a beat. “What the—? It talks now?”

The rogue froze, his jaw slack. “Oh… oh no. It’s alive. This just got ten times better.”

Merlin, however, narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. “I suspected it was enchanted with sentience, but this is… advanced. Rare. Perhaps unprecedented. Careful, Karlos. These kinds of artifacts are notoriously demanding.”

“Demanding?” The Grimoire’s voice dripped with disdain. “Demanding does not begin to describe what you need to become. You are unpolished. Weak. Undisciplined. A disgrace to the potential you possess.”

Karlos frowned. “Hey, I didn’t ask to be insulted by a glorified paperweight.”

The rogue snorted, barely holding back laughter. “This book’s got some sass. I like it already.”

“Silence, fool.” The Grimoire’s voice made even the rogue flinch. “This is a conversation between a master and his unworthy apprentice.”

“Master?” Karlos echoed, incredulous. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

The book ignored him, glowing brighter. “You carry me now, mortal. That means you will live up to the standards I set—or perish trying. Your current state is unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?” Karlos snapped, gesturing to his newly evolved robes. “I literally just evolved! How is that not good enough for you?”

The Grimoire’s runes flared, casting a fiery light. “You evolved, yes. And what have you done since? Nothing. You are complacent. Lazy. If you truly wish to wield the power within me, you must train—mind, body, and soul.”

Karlos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course. Of course the cursed book wants me to become some kind of ultimate warrior. Should’ve known this was coming.”

“Do not mock me,” the Grimoire warned, its voice sharp. “You will train. You will hone your body. And you will learn to wield a proper weapon.”

Karlos blinked. “A weapon? I’m a mage. Why would I need a weapon?”

The book scoffed, its glow dimming slightly, as if in exasperation. “Because you are weak. Your reliance on spells alone is pathetic. A true warrior of the arcane knows how to fight when magic fails. You will begin weapons training immediately.”

The rogue, who had been quietly enjoying the spectacle, finally spoke up. “Oh, this is gold. What’s it gonna have you learn, Karlos? A sword? A spear? Maybe dual-wielding daggers?”

The Grimoire’s pages flipped rapidly, stopping suddenly. “A bow,” it declared.

“A bow?” Karlos repeated, baffled.

“Yes,” the book said firmly. “Agility, precision, strategy—all are required to master the bow. These are qualities you lack.”

The rogue burst into laughter, leaning against a tree for support. “A bow! Oh, this just keeps getting better. Can you even pull a bowstring, Karlos?”

Karlos shot him a withering glare. “I’m not sure if I should be mad at you or the book right now.”

“Be mad at yourself,” the Grimoire interjected. “You are the one who has let yourself stagnate. But no longer. Starting tomorrow, you will rise at dawn for physical conditioning. Your muscles are as soft as your magic is brittle.”

Merlin’s mouth twitched, though he maintained his usual stoic demeanor. “It seems your new companion has high expectations, Karlos. Perhaps you should listen.”

“Listen? To this thing?” Karlos waved the book around. “It’s been in my life for all of ten minutes, and it’s already trying to turn me into some kind of fantasy Navy SEAL!”

“And yet you still waste time arguing,” the Grimoire said, unimpressed. “This is why you remain weak. Accept your fate, or relinquish me to someone more deserving.”

The rogue smirked. “Harsh, but fair. Maybe I should take it off your hands, Karlos. I’d look great with a glowing, talking book.”

“Touch me, and I will incinerate your soul,” the Grimoire replied flatly, without a hint of humor.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The rogue immediately stepped back, hands raised. “Okay, noted. The book stays with Karlos.”

Karlos sighed, tucking the Grimoire under his arm. “Fine. I’ll train. I’ll learn the stupid bow. But if this thing starts giving me motivational speeches at sunrise, I’m burning it.”

The book gave a low hum, its runes glowing faintly in approval. “Good. Then we begin at first light. Do not disappoint me, apprentice.”

As the group stood in stunned silence, processing the surreal turn of events, the rogue finally broke it with a grin. “This is gonna be fun.”

Merlin sighed, rubbing his temples. “The next few weeks are going to be exhausting, I can feel it already.”

Godfrey grunted, his arms crossed. “At least we’ll see if he can rise to the challenge. Or if he gets eaten alive by it.”

Karlos groaned. “Great. No pressure or anything.”

Greg Pov

As the code 352ME R32B66 translated into “Flame Reborn,” I sat back in my chair, staring at the faint glowing text that appeared on my phone screen. The strange sequence wasn’t just gibberish—it was deliberate. My instincts screamed that this was tied to everything that had just happened. I didn’t waste time; I grabbed the laptop, reopened the game’s Redemption Code section, and carefully typed it in.

For a moment, nothing happened. My heartbeat quickened, pounding against my ribs as I watched the screen, half expecting it to reject the code as invalid. But then, the screen flickered, and the humming from the Chaos Nexus intensified. My laptop’s fan roared to life as if the device itself was straining under the weight of whatever was about to happen.

A new message scrawled across the screen:

REDEMPTION COMPLETE: YOU HAVE UNLOCKED THE FLAME REBORN QUESTLINE.

Greg tapped his desk, staring at the screen. His heart thudded with a mix of excitement and skepticism as he reread the notification that had popped up after completing an otherwise routine daily dungeon grind.

QUEST LINE UNLOCKED: THE FLAME MAGE’S SHATTERED LEGACY

“What the hell?” he muttered, leaning closer. The banner had an ember effect, flickering in and out of visibility like smoldering coals. He clicked it, pulling up the description.

“Uncover the hidden story of the Flame Mage, a warrior whose destiny was forged in fire and shadows. Begin your journey to learn the truth.”

It sounded cool, but Greg had been around long enough to know Chaos Blade’s tricks. It was probably just another underwhelming storyline tied to an equally underwhelming character. Still, curiosity won out, and he clicked the small rewards chest icon that accompanied the quest.

His inventory lit up as new items dropped in:

•Singed Ash Pendant

•Fragment of Monarch Silver

•Charred Tome (Unreadable)

•Unfamiliar Map (Locked)

He inspected the items, but they didn’t seem particularly useful. All their descriptions were vague, their purposes unclear.

“This item currently has no function.”

“A relic of a forgotten era.”

“Will reveal its use in due time.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Of course. Classic Chaos Blade.”

When he tabbed over to the quest log, the instructions for the questline’s first step were displayed in bold, flaming text:

START STREAMING TO ACCESS THE FLAME MAGE’S PAST.

Greg blinked. Streaming? He’d never even considered it before. Sure, he had the gear—thanks to the promotional box the game company sent him—but actually streaming? He didn’t have an audience, and the idea of talking to an empty chat felt… awkward.

“Why would they tie a quest to streaming?” he muttered. His gaze flicked toward the sleek new setup the devs had shipped him: a top-tier gaming laptop, a high-end mic, and a black, cylindrical streaming device. The hardware practically begged to be used.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Greg set up a quick stream. “Alright, let’s see what happens.”

Scene Transition: Greg’s First Livestream

Greg clicked “Go Live,” and a small banner appeared on his screen:

You’re live! Welcome your audience.

He snorted. “What audience?”

The screen was quiet, the viewer count stuck firmly at zero. He fiddled with the settings, trying to shake off the awkwardness. A minute passed. Then two. Finally, the counter ticked up to 1 viewer.

Greg straightened in his chair. “Uh, hey there… welcome to the stream.”

The viewer didn’t type anything, and for a moment, Greg wondered if it was a bot. But then, the number ticked up again: 2 viewers.

In the chat, the first message popped up:

User123: “New story content?”

Greg cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Looks like it. I just unlocked something called ‘The Flame Mage’s Shattered Legacy.’ No idea what it is, but it’s tied to the Flame Mage. Figured I’d stream it since the quest said to.”

The viewer count slowly climbed to 5. Greg resisted the urge to laugh at how ridiculous it felt to be excited about such a tiny number.

FlameSnob: “Flame Mage? Lol, isn’t he trash?”

IDKNothing:” Flame Mage, Who’s Flame”

CuriousCat: “Wait, new content? Is this clickbait?”

IKnowEverything: That is the character that the devs made in honor of the man who died stupidly while playing.

“No clickbait,” Greg replied quickly. “This is legit. The quest showed up right after my daily runs. Said it’s tied to his backstory, so…” He trailed off, realizing how awkward he sounded.

Still, curiosity seemed to be working in his favor. The viewer count bumped up to 7.

With a deep breath, Greg clicked on the quest marker. The screen darkened, and an animation began to play.

The Cinematic

The chat fell silent as the game launched into a full-blown cutscene, its dramatic visuals immediately captivating.

A desolate, fiery wasteland stretched across the screen. A young Flame Mage ran for his life, his robes tattered and smoldering. His face was etched with fear, and his movements were frantic. Behind him, two demons loomed in pursuit.

The first demon, sleek and sinister with glowing crimson eyes, taunted him as it lunged forward. The second, a massive brute with flames licking its body, sent shockwaves through the ground with every step.

Demon 1: “Flee, little ember. Your fire will die as it always has.”

Demon 2: “Burn yourself out, mortal. You cannot escape.”

The mage stumbled, his hand darting into his robes to pull out a glowing pendant—the Singed Ash Pendant from Greg’s inventory. Clutching it tightly, he turned to face the demons, his expression hardening.

“This fire will never die,” he whispered, raising the pendant high. Flames erupted around him, forming a massive barrier that consumed the demons.

The screen went black.

Back to the Stream

The quest log reappeared with an updated mission:

MISSION 1: Defeat the Demons at the Hades CHASM.

Reward: Unlock Pendant’s first ability.

Greg sat back, stunned. The chat came alive with cautious excitement:

FlameSnob: “Okay, that was kinda sick.”

User123: “So it’s like his origin story? Damn, might actually make me use him.”

CuriousCat: “Wait, do you have that pendant? What does it do?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Greg said, opening his inventory to display the Singed Ash Pendant. “But it doesn’t do anything yet. Looks like I have to finish this first mission to unlock its abilities.”

The viewer count had climbed to 12. It wasn’t much, but for his first stream, it felt like a milestone.

“Alright, guess we’re heading to Hell’s Chasm,” Greg said, smirking. “No idea where that is, but let’s figure it out together.”

The viewer count then climbed to 13. The new viewer, a known menace in the streaming space, left a message.

I'mhonest&horny:” Will you take off your pants?