Chapter 22 – "Ashes of Memory"

  The seventh floor’s architecture twisted like a drunken maze, scarred with blackened glyphs and skeletal claw marks. Each step echoed, not from the depth of the cavern, but from the tension coiling in their backs.

  Nolan exhaled slowly. "These halls feel different."

  "That’s because they are," Vaelreth muttered, her nostrils flaring. "A scent of ancient oil and fear. Goblin tunnels... delightful."

  Before Nolan could reply, the stone beneath his foot cracked—a split-second too late to react.

  Click.

  The trapdoor swallowed them whole.

  They landed hard inside a wide, dome-shaped chamber. Crude torches clung to the walls, their flames an unnatural green-blue. Hundreds of goblins filled the upper balconies, shrieking and snarling.

  Nolan rolled to his feet. “So. That’s new.”

  From the upper levels, goblins began flinging down sharpened bones, knives, even old spell scrolls etched onto fungus.

  Vaelreth’s eyes glowed red with hunger.

  She drew “Flame Collapse” from her deck in a single fluid motion, card igniting between her fingers. “Guess we’re skipping foreplay.”

  The card flared violently, turning into a disc of molten fire above her palm. With a snap, she cast it into the front ranks—KRAAASH—engulfing dozens of goblins in fire. As their corpses collapsed, the cards themselves crumbled into her graveyard space behind her, a spectral vortex that spun faster with each sacrifice.

  “More dead cards,” she smirked. “More fuel.”

  Nolan was already moving.

  He slid forward with Quick Step, the card flashing blue beneath his boots, dashing past thrown blades. With Parry, he blocked an incoming club, generating a Martial Token as the shimmer of energy rippled along his forearm.

  Counter Vault flipped him over a goblin’s head. Midair, he activated Cross Slash, striking twice before landing in a crouch. Another Martial Token shimmered beside him.

  “Good warm-up,” he muttered. “No elemental nonsense.”

  A rusted chime rang in the distance.

  From the far end of the chamber, a goblin shaman appeared, hunched and half-melted by age. He raised a sigil-painted staff and chanted through rotting teeth. A glowing glyph—an ancient curse card—shimmered and detonated midair.

  Nolan saw the card, just for a moment:

  “Curse of Forgetting”

  A pulse of unnatural silence slammed into their skulls. Vaelreth hissed in pain. Nolan fell to one knee, eyes wide, trying to grasp something—anything—that was vanishing inside his mind.

  It wasn’t just fatigue.

  It was disappearance.

  A heavy stone door groaned shut behind them. The chamber beyond offered no comfort, only shelter—a broken shrine filled with moss and bone-pile seating. Vaelreth conjured a floating orb of flame from a weakened spell card; Nolan triggered his Focus Amulet, its glow stuttering like a heartbeat.

  They collapsed, breathless. Nolan slumped against a jagged altar, pulling a half-ruined Elixir of Clarity from his pouch but didn’t drink it.

  Instead, he blinked. “...Mitochondria.”

  Vaelreth raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Photosynthesis. Friction. Newton’s... I don’t know. Second law?” He stared into space. “What was Newton’s second law again?”

  She scoffed. “You quote that one all the time.”

  “Not anymore, apparently.” He turned to her, pale and confused. “It’s gone. I know I knew it... but it’s gone.”

  Vaelreth leaned back, fingers tracing the rim of a cracked scroll case. “I just forgot the name of the book I liked. The one about that pirate who drank molten silver.”

  “You liked that book?” Nolan smirked.

  “Yes. It was vile.” She sighed. “But I do remember the name of my fourth clutch-brother. The one with obsidian horns. I haven’t seen him in centuries.”

  Nolan frowned. “So… the curse doesn’t hit everything.”

  She nodded, pulling out a crumbling flame card and watching it flicker. “Draconic blood holds knowledge like bone marrow. But the rest? Things I learned, admired, feared—they’re falling away.”

  He leaned forward, gripping his knees. “It’s not erasing you. Just... trimming the context. Like deleting all the footnotes, side plots, and highlight reels.”

  “And eventually, there’s no book left.”

  Silence.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Nolan tapped his card pouch. “That’s how it wins. Not by death. But by erasing the threads that make you care about staying alive.”

  Vaelreth’s flame dimmed. “Then we can’t take our time anymore.”

  “Agreed,” Nolan said, his voice hardening. He pulled out Martial Recalibration, shuffling through damaged martial arts cards. “No more walking.”

  “Only running.”

  She pulled out Blazing Spiral, her fingertips already bleeding from rapid casting. “Time to fill the grave.”

  He stood.

  She rose beside him.

  Nolan smiled grimly, sliding The Hero’s Journey to the top of his deck again. “Then let’s forget our fear—before it forgets us.”

  The eighth floor collapsed behind them in a slurry of ash, bone fragments, and shattered glyphs. Nolan didn’t look back—he had no time to admire the wreckage. Vaelreth surged ahead, her palm crackling with lingering flame residue from her last spell card.

  "What's next? Zombie chickens? Exploding furniture?" Nolan muttered, sliding into a crouch as they rounded a corner.

  "Don’t tempt the dungeon," Vaelreth warned, flicking a half-burnt scroll into her graveyard. “It might think you’re serious.”

  Nolan’s fingers brushed across his deck. He tapped the top card—Combat Readiness—and activated it.

  Reveal top five. If at least three are Martial or Hero-type, draw two. Bonus: Generate one Martial Token.

  His gaze scanned the projections.

  Hero’s Blade: Graham, Parry, Momentum Draw, Spellbound Journal, Ancient Shield.

  “Three out of five. Not bad,” he whispered, pocketing Parry and Momentum Draw while a thin thread of energy twisted into a Martial Token on his belt.

  A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.

  What did Momentum Draw do again?

  He blinked, suddenly cold despite the smoldering air. The knowledge was there—somewhere—but tangled, dimmed.

  He tried to speak aloud. “Draw a card... if you land two martial attacks in a turn.”

  Right?

  It took him a heartbeat longer than usual. That was new.

  Vaelreth didn’t notice. She was three strides ahead, already pulling another spell card from her graveyard. The parchment glowed as she invoked Blazing Spiral, a flaming cyclone that carved a spiral ramp up to the next floor landing.

  The goblin mage atop it had just enough time to yelp before disintegrating in a flash of heat and bone.

  “Do you even remember what cards you’ve already used?” Nolan asked as he leapt after her.

  “I don’t need to remember,” she said, fire curling along her jawline. “I feel the burn patterns.”

  Nolan rolled his eyes but was already pulling Overclock Drive from his belt pouch.

  Use 2 cards in one turn with no token cost. Cooldown: 3 turns.

  With one swift motion, he activated Overclock Drive, then followed with Quick Step—his boots pulsing with energy as he blurred forward—and chained directly into Sword Aura.

  Empower next sword strike with energy slash. Scales with number of Martial Tokens.

  The attack surged. His blade arced, leaving a trail of glowing sigils as he crashed through the trio of armored skeletons blocking their way. Their shields splintered, and bones tumbled across the stone floor like dice.

  Lightning Blink combo triggered.

  His body vanished and reappeared mid-air, slicing down a fourth creature from behind.

  Nolan landed, breathing hard.

  That should’ve felt smoother.

  He remembered using the Sword Aura card—remembered the art, the lines—but what exactly did the token scaling mean? One token? Three?

  He couldn’t recall how the ratio worked.

  A pit opened in his gut.

  The Curse was spreading.

  Vaelreth skidded beside him, her latest fire card—Flame Collapse—leaving molten grooves along the wall. She clutched her head, eyes burning. “I tried to pull Flamewheel Burst,” she muttered. “Got the wrong card.”

  They looked at each other.

  Silence fell. Then Nolan whispered, “This is getting worse.”

  The ninth floor chamber was a cathedral of decay—its ceiling domed in faintly glowing runes, walls inscribed with the names of forgotten challengers. A forge stood in the center. The embers burned low, fueled by something older than coal.

  Nolan exhaled as he stepped inside, hand trembling slightly as he drew Chainmail Armor from his satchel. The edges were dull. The ink along the corners flaked, unstable. The card itself vibrated with usage scars.

  Three times used. It was time.

  He placed it on the anvil altar, retrieving a vial of Dragonforge Ink and setting down scrap metal he’d salvaged from an earlier skeleton knight.

  The system should’ve pinged instructions.

  Nothing came.

  He tried again. “Contact Akashic Record.”

  Silence.

  No ping. No glyphs. Not even a divine eye-roll.

  “Of course. She’s gone dark,” he muttered.

  He opened his deck binder and leafed through the pages.

  He stopped.

  “The Hero’s Journey,” he murmured.

  It was the first card he’d ever drawn. His lifeline. The engine that searched for anything “Hero-type.”

  And now?

  He hesitated.

  What did it search, exactly?

  His eyes read the text: Search your deck or graveyard for one Hero-type card.

  It was like reading a language he used to speak fluently... and now had to pronounce syllable by syllable.

  He grabbed another: Martial Arts Book.

  Choose 1 martial arts card from deck or graveyard... Meditation status... returns 1 martial arts card...

  He clutched his head.

  “I used to know this. By heart.”

  He pulled out Map of Lost Paths, flipping it over and over. He whispered the description mechanically.

  Allows swap between two Hero-type equipment cards in play or in hand. Bonus: Activate once per combat.

  Why did he have to read it? Why didn’t he remember?

  Vaelreth approached, her own scrolls reduced to ash and ink. She knelt beside him, mixing dragon blood and powdered obsidian. The stench was strong, but the glow of her work was fiercer.

  “I forgot the name of my favorite poem,” she said, quietly.

  He didn’t look up.

  “I forgot my own handwriting style,” she continued. “Started to write a rune the human way.”

  “You still remember your dragon spells.”

  “Only because they’re written into my bones,” she said. “But the ones I chose? They’re fading.”

  He sighed and resumed work. He placed the Chainmail Armor back on the altar, poured the Dragonforge Ink over it, and whispered the card’s name three times.

  A brief shimmer. The card solidified—restored .

  “Still loyal,” he said. “Just like the Akashic Record said.”

  “She say that to you?” Vaelreth asked.

  He paused. “Not now. But before.”

  And then he wasn’t sure.

  Had she?

  Or had he imagined it?

  She lit a final rune under her scroll and hissed as the ink burned gold.

  “I wrote a fire card with my real name this time,” she said. “Not my human alias.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Does that change anything?”

  “No. But it feels like something I’d remember.”

  Nolan went through every card one by one.

  Parry. Cross Slash. Twin Daggers. Sword Aura. Quick Step.

  The combos were still there. Muscle memory helped.

  Parry + Cross Slash = Buff Cancel Quick Step + Sword Aura = Lightning Blink

  But his fingers faltered at Echoed Strike. The exact timing… escaped him.

  He clenched his jaw.

  One by one, he reforged what he could. Hero’s Blade: Graham was still intact. Hermes Boots still had one activation left before reforging.

  He used Martial Recalibration—shuffling discarded arts back into his deck, then drawing one. The draw was Inktrace Bind.

  He didn’t remember putting that in.

  Had he always had it?

  Nolan stood slowly.

  His deck—forty cards—was back in place. But it didn’t feel whole anymore. It felt... foreign.

  “It’s still my deck,” he said aloud, more to convince himself.

  Vaelreth finished her own repairs. Her sleeves were ash-stained. Her graveyard glowed dimly, a pulsing red.

  “We’re running out of time,” she said.

  He nodded. “Let’s forget our fear…”

  He touched The Hero’s Journey, slipping it back on top of the deck.

  “…and remember how to finish.”

  Together, they walked toward the descent.