CHAPTER 59: PERSONA

Vlad stepped into the dark cave, the air still and ancient. As sunlight spilled in behind him, the shadows retreated, slowly illuminating every inch of the small, forgotten chamber, sealed for who knew how many years.

In the far right corner, covered in a thin layer of dust, rested a black wooden mask. Pitch darkness nested in its hollow eyes, staring back at him, slowly fading away as light flooded the cave.

Holding his breath, Vlad strode forward and reached for the mask, lifting it in one swift motion. The thick layer of dust slid off its surface like water over glass.

The mask was featureless, simple, smooth, and expressionless, save for two hollow eye sockets. It was made of dark wood, its surface polished to a mirror shine, and as Vlad looked at it, he saw his own reflection staring back at him.

After a moment to steady his breath and still his thoughts, Vlad activated Appraisal and focused on the mask, ready to see if he had struck gold or found something useless.

Name: Persona

Type: Mask

Quality: Legendary

Condition: Pristine

Avatars Stored: 0/3

Bound: None

Effect(s):

• Veil of Denial – While the mask is worn, the user is immune to most detection and surveillance abilities, including clairvoyance, scrying, spiritual tracking, and perception-based skills.

• Aura Suppression – The wearer’s natural aura is greatly suppressed unless deliberately released. Elemental affinity, Mana presence, and emotional signatures are masked or rendered null.

• False Presence – The wearer appears harmless or insignificant to any passive detection, identification, or threat-assessment abilities.

Skill(s):

• ➌ – Soul Impression (Active): Generates a five-meter silent field around the wearer. Any marked target that remains within range for sixty seconds is stored as a Spectral Avatar, usable only with Mirror Veil.

While soul essence is required to create a True Avatar, it is gradually siphoned through the field, and replication time varies based on the target’s strength and nature.

• ➊ – Mirror Veil (Active): Assume the appearance, scent, voice, aura, and biological signature of a stored Avatar. Grants near-perfect mimicry without combat capability.

Lasts until deactivated. Mana cost: (???)

⚠ Avatar is not consumed.

• ➋ – Perfect Reflection (Active): Fully transform into a stored Avatar, gaining up to 3 combat abilities and one racial or innate trait.

⚠ Transformation deletes the Avatar, and prolonged use may lead to identity fragmentation.

Description:

To wear a Persona is not to lie, it is to become. Not a disguise, but a transformation: the thoughts, the voice, the instincts of another soul made real in you.

It was crafted by an ancient philosopher, named Solmir Eidrix, not in pursuit of deception, but in search of the truth of questions that plagued him.

Can a person become someone else entirely? Is identity bound to a soul, or can it be rewritten, reshaped, worn like a second skin?

"This is the one," Vlad muttered with a smile as he scanned the details.

Vel tilted her head. "That’s it? The very special item."

"I mean, it’s kinda pretty, but... it looks like any other old mask. Just sitting here. In a random cave."

Vlad was about to answer when the little spirit followed.

"Now that I think about it... This cave feels a little out of place. It’s hidden behind a perfectly smooth rock curtain. It’s like someone made this place on purpose."

"To hide the mask?" She looked back at him, uncertain. "But it was just thrown here like something useless."

"To answer your question," he said, calm and even, "The mask is special."

"It’s a legendary-grade item, called Persona," he continued, "This mask would allow one to change everything, one’s form, one’s presence, one’s very essence."

She was left speechless, staring at Vlad and then at the mask, amazed by both the mask’s incredible abilities but more so by her master for somehow locating such a legendary artifact with ease.

{Would you like to bind with the Mask: Persona?}

{Yes / No}

Vlad didn’t hesitate.

’Yes.’

{Warning: Binding the Mask will automatically trigger a quest of irreversible consequence.}

{Proceed?}

{Yes / No}

{The Debt of Betrayal} [SS]

Conditions: Publicly disgrace Duke Lucien Viremont and strip him of all noble status within one year.

Reward: Mask of Persona

Time Limit: 1 Year

Failure Penalty: Failure will result in irreversible identity loss, permanent fusion with the Persona, and the shattering of your mana core.

Description: Duke Lucien Viremont, a noble in name only, a traitor by choice, climbed to power on buried oaths and broken lives.

Accept: {YES / NO}

"The good thing is, I get to use the mask," Vlad mused, as he accepted the quest that might just become a noose around his neck.

Vlad placed the mask against his face. It was slightly larger than his face, but as it touched his skin, it shifted, molding to his features, seamless and weightless. Not giving him the slightest discomfort.

He turned, ready to leave, when something on the wall to his left caught his eye, and it left him stunned, nothing special, just three words, but words that should not be there.

’Idiot Rabbit’s Den’

They pulsed faintly in the stone, as if carved by light itself. Vlad stared, stunned, as he had no memory of ever hearing about this little detail of the cave.

He pulled the mask off and just like that, they were gone. The wall was bare stone again, blank and silent, as if nothing had ever been there at all.

"So, they can only be seen while wearing the mask," Vlad muttered, eyes narrowing. "It must be tied to the quest."

He didn’t know who the mask had originally belonged to, or why they wanted Duke Lucien ruined instead of dead.

But whoever it was, they didn’t just hate him. They wanted him broken, not killed, but unmade, stripped of title, dignity, and legacy.

A living punishment.

The player who ended up acquiring the mask never revealed any details about the quest, so having a possible lead was a welcome thing.

Vlad put the mask back on and began scanning the cave for any new clues, then left the cave to search the ravine and its surroundings.

He found nothing, so after spending nearly two hours searching, Vlad left for the city of Dawnfront.

He was eager to test the mask, but decided to meet with Angela Zane first, so without wasting any time, he went straight to the teleportation building and traveled back to the city of Skyreach.

With the last lingering pulse of teleportation light fading from him, Vlad stepped out of the dark building into the familiar chill of Skyreach’s air.

The city was just as he had left it: crisp, lively, and veiled beneath clouds that hung thick and unmoving, a blanket of white and gray that had swallowed the sun’s rays behind a dull haze.

Snow fell in slow, spiraling flakes, carried by thin streams of wind that rolled down from the upper spires of the city’s peaks.

A message flashed in the corner of his vision, coming from Angela Zane.

I am at the Colosseum. Join me there.’

Vlad closed the message, adjusted his cloak, tugged the edge of his hood lower, and began walking.

The Sky Colosseum, as it was called, was located on the western cliff of the inner circle, built atop the rise of black stone that overlooked the wind-battered valleys below.

It wasn’t built to entertain the masses; it was built to impress the elite.

The structure rose from the mountain’s edge like a beast caught mid-flight, an architectural marvel shaped in reverence to the eagle.

Its twin towers swept outward as massive wings, each lined with silver feathers that made the wind howl as it crashed into them, giving the illusion of a bird in flight.

Between the towers, a massive feathered neck hung low, ending in a sharp face carved from white-veined obsidian that rested just above the main entrance.

Above the grand entrance, an enormous relief of an eagle’s face, its lifelike, beastly eyes set with yellow gold, gazed down at all who approached.

At the base of the silver talons, carved into the wall, the bird gripped the ground below, completing the majestic form.

Silver banners lined the outside wall, each bearing the insignia of rich sponsors, famed champions, or past warriors of note.

The public entrance was bustling with activity, even though it was the start of the day, which was to be expected, since this was one of the most popular places for endless entertainment.

Vlad headed straight to the sideline reserved only for private guests, and seeing him, a female standing to the side moved closer and greeted him with a smile.

"Sir V, I’m Christina," she said, extending a hand and offering a warm smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you,"

Her skin was pale, not the smooth white of marble, but pale and lifeless. Her robes trailed behind her, white and gray, cut in layers of formal ceremonial fabric.

Her hair was a pale blue, cut short, and rested above her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes held no warmth, appearing lifeless, yet she possessed an alluring appearance, matched by a few, and she radiated a strange aura.