Chapter 55 – Whispers Beneath the Moonlight

The twilight lingered as Rael and Yue stood before the shattered remains of the tower. The trial was over—but its echo had not yet faded from Rael's soul.

His steps were unsteady. The weight of the Third Brand—of its price—still dragged on his every breath.

Yue walked beside him in silence.

Neither spoke for a long time.

The wind stirred their robes, lifting ash and broken leaves from the ground. Above, the crimson moons watched from behind drifting clouds.

"Are you in pain?" Yue asked at last.

Rael didn't answer right away. He flexed his fingers. They still trembled.

"…No," he lied.

Yue's gaze lingered on him. She didn't press. Instead, she pointed toward the horizon where the forest met the ridgeline.

"There's an abandoned cliff village," she said. "One of the Bearer's old stations. We can rest there."

Rael nodded.

The silence between them deepened—not awkward, but strained, as if both were waiting for the other to say something neither dared voice.

They walked.

---

An hour passed. They climbed along a narrow path between jagged rocks and skeletal trees. Rael felt every step—his muscles screamed, his soul ached, and fragments of borrowed stances still echoed in his bones.

But his mind was elsewhere.

That vision… of Oshtur's creation.

Of being forged from the broken remains of the dead.

Of being used.

And of the cost the Third Brand demanded.

"Command of the Broken," he muttered.

He clenched his jaw.

It was no power to celebrate. It was a promise of responsibility.

If he wanted to wield the dead… he had to become someone who could carry them.

---

By nightfall, they reached the village.

Perched at the cliff's edge, it was a ruin—collapsed huts, broken shrines, and totems scattered like bones across the plateau.

Yet a single hall still stood.

Yue opened the door with a practiced push, revealing a surprisingly clean space inside. Dusty, yes, but untouched by beasts.

She gestured him in. "Rest."

Rael stepped inside, too tired to argue. He collapsed near the hearth.

Moments later, Yue dropped a sack beside him—dried roots, herbs, a skin of water, and an odd lump wrapped in wax paper.

"Eat. Before the exhaustion eats you."

Rael blinked at her. "You always talk like that?"

Yue smirked faintly. "Only to people who think bleeding from the eyes is just a minor inconvenience."

He didn't laugh.

He just looked at the fireless hearth.

"…You knew what was behind that gate, didn't you?" he finally asked.

She didn't deny it.

"I've seen echoes of it," she said. "The Bearers don't speak plainly, but their trials always show the future. Or the cost of it."

Rael stared at her.

"And you still sent me in."

Her smile faded.

"No one forced you to touch the gate."

Rael clenched his fists. "…I didn't expect it to change me."

Yue stepped closer. "Then you were never meant to pass."

He met her eyes, and in them, saw not coldness—but clarity.

The kind that only came from surviving something equally cruel.

"How many Brands do you bear?" he asked.

"Four," she replied without hesitation. "Each one took something from me I didn't want to give."

Rael nodded slowly.

Silence fell again.

---

Later, as the wind howled outside, and Rael lay beside the unlit hearth, unable to sleep, Yue returned.

She tossed something small beside him—a jade pendant.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up.

"Focus stone," she replied. "For meditation. Stabilizes emotional drift after traumatic Brandings."

He held it.

The stone pulsed softly in his palm.

"…Thank you," he murmured.

Yue sat across from him, leaning against a pillar.

Her eyes reflected the moonlight.

"You're not like the others," she said. "Most candidates break or grow numb. But you… you change. Like molten metal."

Rael didn't respond.

He didn't know what to say.

Yue leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

"You'll need a cultivation technique soon. The raw energy you're absorbing—it won't last. The tower was only a taste. The real world doesn't forgive instability."

Rael looked down at the jade again.

"I don't have one," he admitted. "No technique. No clan. Nothing."

Yue cracked an eye open.

"Then you're either going to die… or become very, very powerful."

---

The fireless night passed.

In the morning, fog rolled across the cliffside. The village seemed swallowed by mist.

Rael rose early, walking to the edge where the wind howled off the drop.

He looked down at the vast wilds below.

A path twisted into the distance—a forgotten trail veined with old runes and broken markers.

Beyond it, he saw the faint flicker of torchlight.

A caravan?

No. Too small.

A scouting party, maybe?

Then—

A ripple of killing intent.

Rael's eyes sharpened.

From the fog, he saw the outlines of black robes—strange figures moving with purpose.

Too coordinated for bandits.

Not disciples.

Not soldiers.

And they were heading up the path… straight toward the cliff village.

Rael turned back, his body already reacting. He rushed to the hall.

"Yue. Visitors."

---

By the time she stepped outside, three of the figures had emerged into view.

Hooded, cloaked, wearing masks carved like grinning beasts.

Their auras were wrong—fractured, volatile.

Yue stepped beside him, her expression unreadable.

"…Those aren't humans," she whispered.

Rael's hand clenched into a fist.

"Then what are they?"

Yue didn't answer.

But the lead figure spoke.

Its voice was guttural, layered with something ancient.

"Bearer's Child. And the Marked One."

"You've awakened the Brand of Command. That power is claimed."

Rael's eyes narrowed.

"You want it?" he said. "Come and take it."