Chapter 13:Dragon Mountain

"Hold up, wait!" Aris shouted, panting as he sprinted to catch the bus, his breath ragged from running all the way down the street. His legs felt like lead, but he pushed himself harder, desperate not to miss it.

The bus driver, an older man with graying hair under a worn cap, glanced back through the rearview mirror with a knowing smile. "Young lad, you've got to keep up. Can't be runnin' late every time," he said with a chuckle as he brought the bus to a halt, allowing Aris to clamber inside.

"Thanks," Aris muttered, catching his breath. He quickly scanned the seats and spotted Emily. She was by the window, headphones on, lost in her own world, watching the city fly by as music filled her ears.

Aris grinned to himself. This was his chance. With the energy of a sneak attack, he leapt onto the seat next to her, hoping to surprise her.

"Hey, girl," he said, his voice trying to sound cool, though it cracked a little with nerves.

Emily turned slowly, her cheeks turning a soft pink the moment her eyes met his. But instead of replying, she quickly looked away, pretending to ignore him.

For a second, Aris felt a sting of disappointment. Then, he noticed the way her fingers gripped her phone a little tighter, the way her eyes flickered with memories she tried hard to push away. He knew exactly what she was thinking about because he was thinking about it too. The past. That moment between them.

It wasn't long ago that he'd kissed her hand, a bold, awkward move, but it had triggered something deep in Emily. He remembered the way her face had softened for just a moment, and then she had turned cold again, retreating behind her invisible walls.

As Emily stared out the window, her mind drifted back to their shared past, back to when they were kids—before everything changed.

The incident was like a dream.They had grown up together, best friends since they could walk. Childhood had been sweet, innocent, and full of laughter. They were practically childhood sweethearts, spending every free moment together. They'd build forts, race down the streets, and pretend the world was theirs for the taking. It had all been perfect.

Until the incident.

She was twelve when it happened. They were in her treehouse that day, as usual. Aris had gone to grab lunch for both of them. He hadn't been gone for more than twenty minutes, but in that short window, everything changed.

A group of masked men had broken into the treehouse and snatched Emily. They had come without warning, grabbing her before she even had the chance to scream. It was silent, swift, and terrifying. When Aris came back with lunch in hand, Emily was gone.

Panic surged through him as he ran home to tell his parents. His parents, equally frantic, rushed to Emily's house to inform her family of the horrifying news. But when they arrived, they were met not with concern, but accusations.

Emily's parents were furious. One of Emily's so-called friends had planted a poisonous idea in their minds: that Aris's family had orchestrated the kidnapping. Given that Aris's family was poor, it wasn't a stretch for Emily's well-off parents to believe they were after ransom money.

Emily's father, enraged, accused Aris's parents of foul play. A heated argument ensued, escalating into violence. That evening, Aris's parents returned home with bruises, but when Aris asked what happened, they brushed it off, not wanting to worry him.

The next day, the truth came out. Emily's family had physically attacked Aris's parents, convinced they were behind Emily's disappearance. From that day on, Aris's family became outcasts in the neighborhood. People avoided them like the plague, keeping their children away and whispering cruel rumors behind their backs. Aris's once carefree life was replaced with isolation and shame.

Months passed before Emily was finally found. The kidnappers had abandoned her, and though she was physically unharmed, the emotional scars ran deep. The worst part? She had been assaulted, and she was only thirteen.

When Emily's parents realized that Aris's family had nothing to do with the kidnapping, they were wracked with guilt. They offered apologies, but the damage had been done. In a bid to escape the trauma, Emily's family decided to move to Australia, hoping that distance would help her heal.

For Aris, it was heartbreaking. His best friend, the girl he'd grown up with, was gone—both physically and emotionally. Their friendship had been shattered, and though she was back now, things had never been the same.

The bus jolted to a stop, pulling Aris back to reality. They had reached their destination. Emily silently stood up and exited the bus, heading straight to her boss's office for work. Aris, on the other hand, had a different destination: Zone 7.

He made his way to the division entrance and entered his pod. The familiar hum of machinery surrounded him as the interface flickered to life. He plugged in, allowing the animation sequence to play out. When it finished, Aris found himself waking up in his "room"—a simulation that felt more real than reality itself.

His room looked like something out of a fantasy novel: high ceilings, stone walls adorned with glowing runes, and mystical creatures painted across the tapestry. It resembled a place where dragons and phoenixes might dwell, the air thick with ancient magic.

Yesterday still felt like a dream—his trial, the accusations, and the punishment they'd handed down. He had been charged for the death of a girl during one of his missions. The punishment was severe, and it was only through sheer luck that he wasn't executed. Instead, they opted for the next worst thing: the Contest.

### The Contest

In this world, a contest wasn't just a game; it was survival. Mountains, ancient sentient entities, would come to judge the contestants. The mountains had the power to bestow favor on individuals based on their cultivation techniques—ancient arts that could harness the world's spiritual energy. Only those who had amassed the most powerful techniques would be chosen and allowed to live.

"First contestant, come to the stage!" a booming voice announced, echoing through the chamber where the contestants had gathered.

Aris's eyes flicked to the stage, where a young man named Vladimir stepped forward. His presence was commanding, even from a distance.

Vladimir had always been a mystery. People whispered about his past, about the ancient cultivation arts he had mastered, techniques so rare they could shake the very foundations of the world. Today, he was about to show the world what he was truly capable of.

With a flick of his wrist, Vladimir summoned a torrent of energy, his body glowing with a radiant light. The air around him shimmered with power, and a hush fell over the audience as they watched in awe.

He took a deep breath, and with a single movement, he unveiled his cultivation art. It was a technique so rare, so ancient, that it hadn't been seen for centuries. It sent ripples through the crowd, as gasps and murmurs filled the chamber. Even the mountains, perched in the distance, seemed to stir.

Aris watched intently, his heart racing. He knew his turn was coming, and when it did, he'd have to give it everything he had. His life depended on it.

Aris stood in the shadows as Vladimir displayed his powerful technique. The crowd was still buzzing when the next call came.

"Aris, come to the stage!"

Aris's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward, every eye in the arena fixed on him. The atmosphere shifted, heavy with anticipation. High above him, Dragon Mountain loomed, its presence ancient and powerful. It had been centuries since Dragon Mountain had chosen a contestant, and whispers swirled around the room.

As Aris reached the center, he closed his eyes and focused. His cultivation art was something no one had ever seen—a blend of multiple techniques he had observed and perfected using *Inspiration*. Slowly, the energy around him began to ripple, shifting colors from deep crimson to a blinding white. The ground beneath him cracked, the air pulsing with raw power.

Suddenly, the energy condensed into a brilliant dragon-shaped aura that roared to life around him. The dragon's form flickered in and out of existence, as if hovering between realms. The audience was stunned, the sheer intensity of the technique washing over them in waves. The dragon circled Aris, its presence commanding and undeniable.

From above, Dragon Mountain stirred. Its eyes glowed, locking onto Aris. For the first time in centuries, the mountain moved forward, its voice like thunder as it spoke:

"I, Dragon Mountain, choose Aris."

The crowd erupted in gasps. Being chosen by Dragon Mountain was the highest honor—and the deadliest challenge.