Pathway to the Peak

As the passing landscapes blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, a series of realizations began to settle in my mind.

First, I had neglected to formally announce who I'd sent that letter to the Silent Court. Second, there was a real possibility they might come after me.

Albert may have tipped them off about my existence, but aside from him and that unfortunate mind-controlled attendant, I hadn't encountered any other members.

Yet I couldn't assume that meant I was safe.

As a Messenger, Albert would never have left things to chance.

Messengers had a knack for defying death or at the very least, ensuring their deaths had significance.

Though Albert hadn't been powerful enough to manipulate grand events beyond his demise, there must have been some plan, some deeper reason behind his reckless gamble.

And now, with my newfound knowledge of Nicholas's artifacts, I realize my value to the Silent Court might be greater than I initially thought.

It was unlikely they'd hunt me outright, but I doubted they were pleased with the way things had turned out.

Not that I could have predicted the king's overwhelming strength. Before this, the only knights I had seen of comparable caliber were Baltier and Ilia.

I had assumed Daniel could match the king never imagining he'd be obliterated so easily, his existence snuffed out like a candle against a storm.

This left another troubling thought: the fate of the Forgotten Knights.

Without Baltier, they wouldn't form or at least not in the way the novel had dictated.

That deviation alone would ripple through the narrative.

Leon, once destined to join them, would now face a drastically altered future.

 And Rosaline, standing at my side, was fated to face them in the novel, to cut down half their number in a brutal clash.

But the Forgotten Knights weren't the only looming threat.

There was the Cult of Personality an enigmatic group with unnervingly high standards for their members.

To join, one had to meet three criteria: alignment with the Persona pathway, immense strength, and an awareness of the "Horrors."

The Horrors referred to a terrifying glimpse beyond the Veil, a revelation of reality's unfiltered truth. Witnessing such truths would drive most to madness.

Yet those on the Persona pathway possessed an intrinsic resilience to this insanity.

They could face these revelations and come away intact though even they risked shattering their minds by gazing too long at the entities lurking beyond the Veil.

The Cult was dangerous.

Their pride, though often earned, made them unpredictable and volatile.

Even their more "noble" members carried an inherent arrogance.

These thoughts churned in my mind as the train began to slow, its rhythmic clatter against the tracks softening into a gentle hum.

Outside, the landscape shifted from rolling fields to clusters of rustic buildings that signaled our destination. With a final hiss of steam, the train came to a stop.

I stood, brushing the creases from my coat, and motioned for Rosaline to follow.

Together, we stepped onto the platform. A cool breeze greeted us, carrying the earthy scent of fresh grass and faint traces of wood smoke.

The town before us was modest but lively.

A single cobblestone street stretched through its center, flanked by stone and timber buildings.

Wooden balconies jutted out above bustling shops and market stalls that displayed fresh produce, handmade goods, and tools.

Children ran along the pathways, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of hooves.

The setting sun painted the scene in warm golds and deep shadows, lending the town a serene, timeless quality.

Rosaline surveyed the quaint streets with an expression of quiet wonder. "It's beautiful here."

I nodded. "It is. We'll rest here for about two hours before heading due north."

Her gaze lingered a moment longer before she nodded in agreement.

Together, we made our way through the main street, stopping only briefly to inquire about a cart.

At the town's edge, we came upon a small stable. Standing beside a cart was a young woman, brushing the dust from its frame.

She was strikingly beautiful, her dark skin seeming to glow in the fading light.

Her long brown hair was tied in a neat braid that fell over her shoulder, and her blue-white eyes, with feather-like pupils, caught the sunlight in a way that made them seem otherworldly.

She wore black overalls over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a practical yet elegant look that matched her poised demeanor.

Her gaze shifted to me, and she smiled faintly. "Looking for something?" she asked, her voice carrying a warm, curious tone.

"We need a cart," I said, stepping closer. "Something sturdy enough to carry us and a few supplies."

She tilted her head, glancing at Rosaline before gesturing toward a plain wooden cart. Its frame, though worn, appeared well-crafted and solid.

"You're in luck," she said, patting the edge of the cart. "This one's in good shape and should handle the load fine."

"Do you have any horses for it?" Rosaline asked, her brow furrowing.

The woman chuckled softly, shaking her head. "No horses, I'm afraid. If you're planning to travel far, you'll have to pull it yourselves."

Rosaline sighed, but I simply nodded. "That's fine. How much?"

"Fifty silvers," she said, her tone fair but firm.

I reached for my pouch, counting out the coins and handing them to her. Her fingers brushed against mine briefly, her touch light.

She pocketed the silvers and gave me a long, serious look. "My name's Nuru," she said. "And you?"

"Inanis," I replied, inclining my head.

"Well, Inanis," she said, her voice softening, "be careful. The roads ahead aren't always kind."

I met her gaze and nodded. "We'll manage. Thank you, Nuru."

This woman I wonder who she is, after all just from meeting her it seems I've come to some resemblance of clarity.

After that, I felt something snap in half. Truly what a bizzaare women.

With the cart in tow, Rosaline and I began walking. The town faded behind us, its vibrant life replaced by the quiet of the open road.

There was a small girl about Rosaline's age, she walked past swaying her green hair and looked at me.

"What are you a creep?" She said in a cheeky voice.

Rosaline chuckled. "Yes he is, he's a monster as well."

I sighed as we continued walking.

As we crested a gentle hill, the path stretched before us, wide and inviting, bordered by patches of wildflowers swaying in the breeze.

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the trail, illuminating the rolling hills beyond.

I paused, letting the cart settle for a moment as I surveyed the scene. "This will do," I said, wiping sweat from my brow.

Rosaline adjusted her grip and stared ahead, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's beautiful," she said softly.

I nodded, my eyes fixed on the trail ahead. "Let's keep moving."

Rosaline began pulling the cart, her pace steady despite the uneven trail. I stopped mid-step, a thought crossing my mind.

"Actually, you should pull this alone," I said, hopping onto the cart with practiced ease. "Carry me while you're at it."

She spun around, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "What? You lazy son of a—"

I held up a hand, cutting her off. "It's all part of your training, dear student. Besides," I said, leaning back against the pile of supplies.

"I can sense a monster ahead. I'll sit back and watch you fight."

Rosaline's glare deepened, her eyes narrowing into slits.

For a moment, I thought she might toss me off the cart entirely.

Instead, she sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging in resignation.

Gripping the cart with both hands, she leaned forward and started pulling again.

She may hate me now, but this is the path to greatness. Growth only comes through adversity.

And, well, I didn't feel like walking.

The day was dimming, the sky painted with streaks of orange and purple.

As nightfall approached, the ambient mana in the air grew thicker, more potent.

It wasn't yet time for the truly powerful beasts to emerge, but the atmosphere carried a quiet tension.

Far in the distance, the jagged silhouette of mountains lined the horizon, barely visible even when I extended my mana senses as far as I could.

Still, there was something nearby.

A faint presence a monster lurking just ahead.

Lying back on the cart with my arms folded behind my head, I allowed myself a moment of relaxation.

That moment ended abruptly.

I had underestimated the creature's speed. What I thought was a safe distance must have been trivial for a beast of its caliber.

"Master, it's coming!" Rosaline's voice rang out, sharp with urgency as she stopped dead in her tracks.

I sat up in a flash, twisting around to see the source of her panic. Charging toward us was a monstrous figure.

Without hesitation, I leapt from the cart, summoning my Dormant Edge with a flick of my wrist.

The blade materialized in a shimmer of dark energy, its weight familiar and reassuring.

I planted it into the ground beside the cart, ready to spring into action.

The monster drew closer, its form grotesquely humanoid.

Its limbs were unnaturally long and stretched like sinewy black ropes.

A bone-white helmet, shaped like a beetle's carapace, obscured its face, save for its hollow, glowing eyes that radiated an eerie white light.

Darkness clung to its figure like a living shadow, writhing and twisting as if trying to break free.

A beast from the Dark.

Her gaze flickered between the monster and me.

Duskborne creates tainted or born from the dark are called Duskborne.

"Handle it, Rose! Stay calm!" I called out as she strode forward, pulling the blade from her back in a single fluid motion.

"I know!" she shouted, her voice steady but sharp, as she leveled the blade at the beast before her.

The creature tilted its head, the movement jagged and unnatural, as though it were a broken marionette.

Then, without warning, it lunged forward, its clawed hands slicing through the air with lethal intent.

Rose sidestepped gracefully, her footwork precise, and slashed her blade across its darkened chest.

A spray of pale, white blood erupted from the wound, hissing as it hit the ground.

The monster reeled back, shrieking in a mix of pain and rage. Its maw opened wide, a swirling mass of darkness coalescing into a beam.

The beast fired the beam with a guttural roar, the blast tearing through the air.

Rose, unshaken, focused her mana into her blade and swept it outward, splitting the beam in two.

The energy veered away, searing the ground and withering the grass into lifeless gray patches.

I frowned as I observed the aftermath.

That beam didn't just destroy it was erased. Its energy sapped the very life force of anything it touched.

For those with little mana, it was death incarnate.

As the beam dissipated, the creature charged again, its claws gleaming with dark energy.

Rose stood her ground, raising her blade.

Just as the beast reached her, its claws poised to strike, I caught faint whispers from her lips:

"Peace to the world." With that, a small rose plopped on her forehead which she ignored.

From now on she will have to deal with it her self.

An invisible wave emanated from her, serene yet powerful.

Everything around her froze the beast, mid-swing, its limbs trembling as it struggled against an unseen force.

It roared in frustration, unable to move, as though shackled by something beyond comprehension.

Rose didn't hesitate. She pressed her blade against its neck, her expression calm and resolute. In one swift motion, she severed its head.

White blood spattered the ground as she leaped back, her movements precise and controlled.

For a brief moment, a translucent soul-like form emerged from the creature's lifeless body, hovering in the air.

But then, as if yanked by invisible chains, it was dragged downward into the earth, disappearing without a trace.

Rose turned to look at me, her expression unreadable. I recalled the Dormant Edge to the Dormant Summit.

"Good job," I said with a nod, reclining back into the cart. "Now, let's keep moving."

She let out an exaggerated sigh, loud enough for me to hear despite the distance. Slowly, she walked back to the cart, her steps heavy with exhaustion.

Without a word, she grabbed the handles and began pulling again, her gaze fixed forward as we continued down the trail.