Chapter 7 - Bitter Medicine

"Of course, it wasn't an impulsive and abrupt decision though," Kiran said.

"The elders first tried to pierce through the lines of the Three Faction alliance with vast amounts of small detachments. Some even headed with a strong Third Blood to escape. But none of them even managed to leave the scouting range of Zevir, our elder with the powerful Blood Hunt ability."

Osias recalled the haggard elder... A chronically ill-tempered old man, with an appalling appearance that almost matched his demeanor.

But his most notable aspect was his lack of eyes. A pair of hollow cavities made it disturbing to be in his presence. Yet his head always finds its way to the right target, nothing escaping his sight.

Blood Hunt was an ability that consumed grand amounts of blood essence, and Osias vividly remembered the vast lines of captured Path Beasts and fallen enemies brought to his chambers to constantly replenish his essence pool.

Yet his presence in the Red Sky proved to be invaluable.

Above the Red Sky's Great Valley was a large grisly crimson eye. Ghastly bloodied tissue covered it, laced in countess blood vessels as if it was focusing on something... someone. It never seemed to truly reveal itself unless Zevir focused intently.

Yet the feeling of being watched never waned. It could oversee almost twenty kilometers, piercing through even some of the strongest concealment abilities of his level.

Osias could only imagine the pressure on any encroaching enemies...

"The Third Ordeal Blood Warriors must've been detected or recognized — the people they led as well. After all, their faces are recognizable from their time amidst ongoing war. Aside from that, Zevir relayed what he saw within his range to Garm and the other elders… he saw them get slaughtered." Kiran explained.

"Another reason I suspect for their failures is that they all lacked the diversion that we came upon. It was too early for the Three Factions to encircle our Great Valley tightly, but a much wider encirclement was already forming. We were fortunate enough to have the rest of our Blood Warriors stay within our Great Valleys, valiantly fighting along with and garnering the Three Faction's attention."

Osias listened intently and asked:

"But that doesn't explain why I was chosen aside from my relation to you... It couldn't have been the only reason. Otherwise, you could've saved mother and father."

Kiran let out a small chuckle as his hands worked and climbed through a small cliff.

"Well, you're one of the few who managed to survive the tattoos from Garm. You know how he sought only the youngest to maximize the benefits of it… and we are to continue and prove our Path, Osias. There will come a time when we will spread it as well." Kiran said with an odd tone at the end, before adding:

"...As for why not anyone else? There's not much of the Third Ordeal to begin with. All of whom are elders or dignified warriors. Constantly fighting and obtaining essence in return to continue their progression. There are no hidden faces among them to the Three Factions — they have less of a chance to disguise themselves when we'll inevitably travel the inlands."

"The same goes for most of the Second Ordeal as well... I'm the only exception though."

"Are you talking about your leave during your First Ordeal, brother?"

Kiran lingered for a moment, and in a slightly cold tone:

"No, it was after my First Ordeal. I used my position to seclude myself, training deep within the heart of the Great Mountain's interior."

Osias tried to wrap his head around to no avail, and silently looked at their rear view for a while, his expression unreadable.

'Again...'

Eventually, Osias connected some dots to Kiran's information

'Because I am the younger brother of the Band's heir... I also survived the tattoos like Kiran, and due to our ties, the elders must've conceded to Kiran's plea. But there should be more, the elders and even Garm wouldn't bend to Kiran so meekly, right? The Band does not offer sympathies that easily.'

'Elder brother is hiding something, something related to his Ordeals. But it doesn't really matter. I'm still here… living regardless.'

Eventually, they reached the shoulder of the Heron's mountain.

The Heron mentioned in Garm's past was supposedly higher, almost toward the mountain's summit. There, they'll have to circle the span to find a small crevice, barely able to fit a full-fledged man.

"Are you sure you can fit through the opening once we find it, brother?"

Kiran didn't reply, but he scoffed at the question, hidden from Osias's sight…

They would have to cover and search a large swath of land. But first, they'd have to continue their ascent to near the summit, from there they can only search without direction. Garm's tales can only go so far… Osias wondered if the Heron was even alive.

"Osias, just a little more, ready?"

"Mm."

Osias still dealt with the constant throbbing that attacked him. But he no longer reacted and grew as accustomed as he could be to it.

He recalled the initial days after awakening — he would repeatedly clutch his wounded lower half in pain.

His vision blurred from the agony that wouldn't disappear.

It was just like his days in the... room. But maybe because of his time inside there, he was accustomed faster.

So he pushed away his suffering with gritted and clutched teeth, wholeheartedly opposed to showing weakness. Osias along with Kiran hailed from a vicious band of mercenaries after all. Such was the way they were disciplined.

But being reminded of the room, Osias thought of Garm. He was strict and unyielding... Rigorous in his teachings to him in their days shared inside as Garm inked into him.

Osias was only shown the cruel, yet domineering side of Garm, even when he was first brought into the chamber. He knew nothing of the man aside from this drastic side to him — the earnest resolution to stop at nothing to benefit the band. To Osias, Garm was a person to be avoided. Dangerous even. There were no limits to his insane desire to strengthen the Red Sky.

Osias remembered his friends, the other talented children of the band who showed potential just like him. Hounded together deep in the confines of their Great Mountain, hidden from even light itself.

They were all tested upon, housing the profane ink of unknown origin. Many survived, but not everyone could maneuver themselves as they used to. With spasms, sickness, and intense shaking, these children were… unfit to continue taking more ink.

Wasted failures for the band as Garm would say.

The vile ink was limited in its amount after all.

Kiran too was once tested upon.

But much earlier than Osias, years before Garm improved upon his technique. It was said that Kiran survived after a much larger selection of youth than Osias had, but less 'talented'. He didn't know what talent meant, but he assumed it was children who grew larger reservoirs before birth…

As Kiran marched through the rugged swath surveying for anything of note, Osias's mind shifted to Kiran.

Of course, Osias knew that Kiran wasn't the same as Garm, someone who was so intent on the Red Sky, but even so, Kiran was akin to a stranger who happened to share blood ties for the latter half of Osias's life.

A person who he didn't truly know.

He only possessed mere glimpses of memories of his elder brother, but it was clear that the Kiran from his memories was entirely different from the one he was being carried behind on today.

So much time has passed, both separated and apart. Osias in the dark chambers — Kiran in isolation.

Yet, unknown to both at the time, they spent their time apart in the vicinity of each other. Within the Red Sky's hollow crypts of their Great Mountain.

Osias inhaled slowly, dismissing the stray thoughts of Kiran's past.

Thinking was hard as always for him.

His head relentlessly ached and pounded down on his psyche as if it was punishing him for focusing on anything aside from recovery…

Looking in front of him, he noticed the stark change in view and the drastic elevation Kiran was heading up towards.

And he grew a little apprehensive.

…The past week or so, they have grimly avoided any regions remotely near the summit of mountains. Any swaths of elevation were ventured direly and cautiously.

After all, where else could be the truly deadly Path Beasts nestle?

Looking past the low ridge they crossed earlier, Osias shivered apprehensively at the morbid sight.

'Well... obviously there's that aswell.'

Of course, there was still the impossibly dense grey mist that devoured the basin and valleys below, but the same issue remained...

Kiran couldn't perceive anything within the mist nor the land amidst the top of the mountains. Each too far away, potentially housing dreadful creatures.

They wouldn't dare test either peril, whether it was death from above or below.

But there was simply no other way to find the opening that supposedly led to a gracious Path Beast. The way to the Heron was said to be somewhere in the wide jagged summit.

As Osias tried to lessen his unease watching the mesmerizing view of the mist below, he noticed a bulging mass almost erupting and bending the thick mist beyond its... grey boundaries.

Such sights were startling at first, but Kiran eased Osias's worry early on.

He assured him that whatever was attempting to break out beyond the mist, or if it was the very mist itself protruding outwards, it wouldn't ever ascend beyond its depths. Time and time again it always faltered and retreated as it reached the lowest of the mountain cols.

'Still... what could be above that could stop such a thing? Or is something below, even deeper than the mist pulling it back in?'

Osia's speculations continued on and on as Kiran precariously circled the radius of the mountain peak. Starting from the Southern face they were currently on, Kiran glanced to his left after leaving a pronounced sign of their location with his spear.

Eventually, they began to ascend, searching above themselves. Slowly, it became difficult, even for Osias, to breath. Although he was raised on a mountain steppe that housed the core of the Red Sky, the heights they were at trumped his natural acclimation.

Osias was still just an Ordinary after all.

Regardless, he did as he always did – watch in silence.

Long ago have they passed the level where trees and other vegetation grew, and only irregular rock-strewn stone lay before them. Occasionally there were oddly shaped risings found ground, but upon investigation, Kiran found nothing of note and attributed it to natural formations.

They continued until they searched the entire Western face of the mountain but to no avail. Osias's expectancy slowly waned, but there was still much land to cover.

"Brother, if we don't find the Heron here, what then?"

Kiran opened his mouth to answer but paused briefly to think and said:

"No other option, we force our way North through the Outer Valleys as we planned… and if need be, we'll detour into the Great Valleys of the Tailed Brothers."

Osias's posture dipped and he sighed, 'If I'm still alive by then…'

He was sure that Kiran noticed it. Well before Osias did.

The current mountain they were on was among the last amongst the range leading North that connected through high ridges. All this time they traveled atop the main crests of the ridges that connect this range.

But this relative safety wouldn't last.

Osias couldn't see past Kiran's back at the time, but as Kiran searched the edge of the Western face, Osias found that the mist seemed a little higher than before.

Or they were slowly going lower.

Perhaps that was all Osias could see, but he was reluctant to hope for the best. They were lucky enough to survive all this time.

After a brief rest, Kiran continued to search the rugged Northern face.

The sun was hidden on this side, making the Osias feel more useless than ever. His senses were practically that of the blind compared to someone like Kiran.

'As if I can notice something he misses...' He thought, yet he still tried to help.

They pursued every rift, crevice, chink Kiran could find.

He lifted stones, some can even be called boulders as he broke them down with his strength.

Yet nothing comes to light.

The Northern face didn't unveil the Heron.

But just as they connected with a leveled cliff that led to the Eastern face, Kiran halted with a slight tremor.

"Osias, be ready. Path Beasts are approaching - a small herd."

Osias nodded in Kiran's shadow.

"A lot?"

"No, just five."

Kiran raised his hand, and a graceful spear, an almost identical copy of his usual spear appeared. But it lacked the sheen of metal — instead, a menacing glare of flushed blood-red took its place.

'Not his usual spear?' Osias recalled his brother's explanation as a slow shiver crept its way to his core.

"He-Hey brother... how strong are they?"

Suddenly the air around the pair grew thick and heavy.

Kiran grew silent, readying himself for battle.

Noticing that Kiran hadn't warned him to close his eyes, Osias quickly deduced that the Path Beasts before them wouldn't blind him like the ones they encountered much earlier on their journey. Although he couldn't be absolutely sure it wouldn't do something else, Osias could fight against the surging concern he felt.

So he whipped his head around quickly before Kiran and the approaching herd battled.

And what his eyes met made his skin crawl in response.

Horrid beasts, like many that they have encountered in the mere week or so they entered the Outer Valleys, Osias couldn't make out what Ordinary beasts they were derived from.

They were too… disfigured.

If there was something Osias oversight the moment they set foot atop the Heron's supposed region was the odd lack of Path Beasts along with the Ordinary.

Osias didn't consult Kiran about it, attributing it to the powerful presence of the Heron - similar to the Path Beasts of the Third Ordeal they came close to.

Osias's essence sense was too weak and dull as an Ordinary to truly perceive the level of his enemies.

But he could make a rough guess based on arbitrary signs.

The five beasts before the pair of brothers dwarfed even Kiran in size. Hulking beasts they were… Almost twice the size of Kiran despite his own towering height.

Supported by four lengthy limbs, their lithe monstrous bodies were thin and ghastly. Sunken skin practically pitted deep into their bones, they looked as fragile as they were lengthy.

But Osias knew that was a guise:

"Second Ordeal, right brother?"

Kiran's voice returned from silence to his usual unexpressive cadence:

"Second, indeed. But the one at the back, it's...different. Unusual so. Likely at the peak of battle strength for a Path Beast in the Second Ordeal, maybe even more... It also looks a little different from the others."

"Turn your head back, and make sure your latches are secured but hold on regardless."

Osias nodded, complying immediately. This feeling of weakness and futility... Osias dreaded it. All this time he was attached to Kiran's shadow, not doing a thing.

Kiran couldn't risk hiding Osias away and abandoning him in case a stray Path Beast discovers him. So because of this, all fights were done as a pair unless the situation called for their separation.

But before he could brood over his misgivings any longer, the herd, all shriveled and hunched, opened their mouths slick with slobber and produced a litany of menacing howls.

They then rushed forward without any semblance of intelligence like the abominable beasts they were, brimming with nothing but chilling and rabid malice.

Kiran abandoned his usual spear to the ground.

Donned with his blood-red long spear, accented with three wicked spiraled tips, and countless hooks to invoke awful lacerations, he readied himself.

Then, the herd was upon them...