Chapter 85 – What It ans to Grow Stronger
The Sasingya Mountain rose high above the earth. The Antelopes made their way toward its tall, deep summit, unaware that the world might be watching them closely. Humans, a beast, and one dwarf were climbing the slope.
Huff, huff.
Breath grew shorter with each step.
The sun beat down harshly, yet the air against their skin was cool, like late autumn. Snowflakes clung to boulders smothered in thick moss. The mountain's climate defied the season.
"It's getting colder."
Hadiya, at the front, spoke quietly.
Basim the dwarf didn't respond. Instead, he reached toward a rock at his feet. His fingertips traced the rough surface gently.
The grain of the stone was pointing the way forward.
"It ans the mountain is alive and moving."
He was treading on soil that slled of ho for the first ti in a long while. Terrain didn't matter. He had to follow mory.
"Nature holds mories of its own. Things far older than humans—or even dwarves."
Sasingya was not simply a tall mountain. Dwarves called this place 'The Rock Upon Which Stars Descended'. According to legend, it was where elves and dwarves had first shared a toast of reconciliation.
"It reminds
of where I was born."
Hadiya mimicked his gesture as she continued.
"The desert erases everything. Sand buries all traces. Here—there's snow instead of sand."
"That's why I love this place."
A small smile passed across his face.
Though their races were different, there were monts when they understood each other.
An exchange made simply through fingertips and footsteps.
"Let's rest here."
"Yes."
Before long, the Antelopes reached a small basin suitable for making camp. Rocky walls enclosed them on three sides, with only the south open, blocking the cold wind. It was an ideal spot to build a fire, and there was no risk of ambush.
While the mbers unpacked their gear, Hadiya's gaze drifted to the northern rock wall. There were characters carved into its surface that she had never seen before.
"This is……"
"The language of the dwarves. Those are warriors' nas. From long ago—it's a tribute to those who fought until the very end and fell."
Basim carefully rested his forehead against the carving. Standing before those nas, he bowed his head for a brief mont in mourning. It was a distinctly dwarven way. To rember in silence, and in depth.
That night.
As the firelight dimd, quiet settled over the camp. The mbers' breathing grew steady, and Calix too had closed his eyes near the edge of the fire.
Yet his complexion was not well. He furrowed his brow, and occasionally his eyebrows twitched. Over his face, it seed as though the thin shadow of so ancient battlefield had seeped in.
* * *
Calix dread.
He was standing on sothing, but could not tell whether it was ground or sky. A space where mountains, rivers, villages, and lights did not exist. Everything was swallowed into silence.
Then, from sowhere, he felt a gaze watching him. It wasn't direct, but it ca from exactly one direction.
His breath stopped.
Every hair on his body stood on end, and his heart shrank. The mont his every sense registered the presence of the other, he trembled uncontrollably.
[……Have you seen it.]
Calix had not spoken, so this was clearly the voice of whoever was watching him. Yet that gaze was more chilling than any words.
The feeling of being pierced through.
Like having his skin peeled away. His innermost thoughts—his very soul—were being laid bare one by one. In that mont, flas spread. It was the familiar ember of Falling Fire.
Whoooosh.
The power that originated from his heart spread warmth in all directions. Only then did he regain enough strength to endure—and toward that fla, the other reached out a hand.
'That is not sothing a person possesses.'
It was far too long, and grotesquely shaped. The skin was blackened and desiccated, like the hand of a corpse, with drops of blood flowing in reverse.
[Rember.]
One after another, the language of shadow bored its way into his soul.
[Your death…… Is mine.]
Calix clenched his teeth and tried to resist—
Slurp.
Just then, the dampness he felt against his cheek drew him free from the nightmare. Opening his eyes, he t a pair of wide, alert ones.
"……You."
His warhorse had pressed its nose in and given him a poke. The loyal beast's tongue licked his cheek once more.
"Thank you. That's enough now."
Calix steadied his breathing. It had been nothing but a dream. Yet he could not dismiss it as a simple nightmare. For the first ti, he sensed that there was sothing watching over him.
Sothing more fundantal than a Draug—sothing altogether different.
He could not know its true nature, but one thing was certain. As long as he lived, it was an enemy he would inevitably face one day.
* * *
At dawn.
Calix slowly rose to his feet. A pale blue light was seeping into the eastern sky. The campsite was still subrged in quiet breath.
To the south, forests, plains, and rivers were visible. How long had it been since he'd co to his senses? He had no mory after collapsing by the riverbank.
He drew breath once more.
Cold air descended deep into his lungs, then slowly escaped. A single breath—but it felt strangely vivid.
His body was light.
No—it was more balanced than before. He could tell without even swinging his sword. From his spine down to the tips of his toes, the central axis that had been trembling faintly had gathered firmly inward.
Thud.
He stepped forward with one foot and stood. His body wasn't fully recovered. Even so, he felt certain. He had changed once again.
Every step took root in the ground. Strength was not wasted, and the muscles throughout his body had regenerated solidly, reinforced where they needed to be.
This was no exaggeration.
Calix was unmistakably different from the version of himself of the day before.
The Neural Accelerator agreed with him.
Na: Calix
Age: 20
Biotric DataStrength: 4(-4)/10 [Recovering]
Agility: 4(-4)/10 [Recovering]
Endurance: 5(-2)/10 [Recovering]
Reality Acceleration: 2.9x [Rated Output, Temporarily Restricted]
Maximum Oxygen Uptake (VO2 max): 9/10
Vision: 17/20Physical Recovery: 10( 1)/10
[Divine Manifestation]
[ntal State]
ntal Contamination: 21% [Comfortable State]
Neural Network State: 99%[Physical Developnt]
Muscle Developnt: 48(-42)% [Recovering from Injury]
Bone Density: 90% [Absorbing Mana]
[Bloodline Abilities]
Ranita's Heart/Source of Mana [100%]??
Detailed Attribute Unlocked – Divinity [31%]??
New Attribute Unlocked – Nature Attunent [22%], Core [19%]
Ashapel's Instinct/Avatar of the Battlefield [43%]??
1st Awakening Unlocked – Sixth Sense??
2nd Awakening Unlocked – Mind's Eye
Strength and agility had risen to '8', and Reality Acceleration had reached '2.9'.
ntal Contamination had dropped sharply, and the state of his physical developnt had improved greatly. On top of that, his Bloodline Ability values had surged across the board.
Yet Calix…… Felt a lack.
He didn't an the rise in his ability scores. It was because he had co to recognize his own limits. Having completed Falling Fire, his own weaknesses now appeared to him all the more clearly.
The words Gregor was always shouting ca to mind.
'Without the fundantals, climbing higher is no different from building a castle without bricks.'
That advice—only now did he understand it fully.
'May I ask your na.'
Repeatedly, the scene of his battle with the Master flashed before his eyes.
Imran Akran.
His sword had been honest. Fast and straight, and above all, without a single mont of disarray.
As if nature itself.
As if a river's current.
As if the sword itself carried intent within it.
It swept in gently, filling space with points and lines.
By comparison, the Dance of the Wilderness he had perford—
Had been nothing more than a mass of emotion. It had taken on a shape, but an inconsistent one. It had created flow, but could not move in a single direction.
He could not dare deny that truth.
Even so, a small smile found its way to the corners of Calix's mouth.
It was not mockery or self-reproach.
He had grown stronger.
Not because he had completed Falling Fire. Not because his Bloodline Ability scores had risen, or because he had awakened Mind's Eye. It had been proven through the act itself.
The young man who once had all he could do just to look after himself was now able to reach his heart outward.
He had tried to protect the wanderers, tried to save the infant, and by putting that into practice, he had claid strength with his own hands. And at the end of that—he had finally been able to face himself head-on.
That was, in short, the certainty that he was moving forward rightly.
Brief but deep, a concentrated emotion drifted through his heart. In answer, the core of his heart humd and buzzed.
[Core Activation Detected]
[Mana Body Expanding]
Calix did not dwell on each ssage. Instead, steadying his breath, he turned his thoughts over and over.
'What cos next…… I wonder?'
That alone was what truly mattered.
Unfortunately, however, no ti was given for him to answer that question.
"……Ca, Calix?"
A voice not yet fully awake.
It was Volga.
"Ugh……. What's— huh? Calix!"
"H-he's up——!"
Then, from Vice-captain Marik to Wheatley, Kotchap, and even the senior mbers—one by one they woke, and they would not leave 'Calix-who-had-co-to-his-senses' alone.
His family ca rushing over.
There were many words, laughter mixed in, and exaggerated gestures and teasing jokes flying in every direction. Over the dying embers of the campfire, steam began to rise once more.
Tomorrow had arrived.
* * *
Calix heard, belatedly, the events that had followed the battle.
Remarkably, there had been no casualties. They had lost dozens of warhorses—yet not one of the forty-seven Antelopes had died.
"I saved three of them myself, you know. They'd better serve as my errand boys for life."
"What are you on about—you kept your own head thanks to ."
"Oh, so that's how we're going to play this?"
And naturally, they knew they had accomplished sothing extraordinary. But more than that, they rejoiced at the fact that their comrades had not died.
That feeling still carried on.
The Antelopes climbed Sasingya, and climbed again. A grueling journey over the mountain peaks. Even so, their steps carried an undeniable air of joy.
They were confident that Ella had driven the Draug away, there was no pursuit by imperial forces, and Dwarf Basim was guiding the path toward his holand—so there was truly nothing to worry about.
Calix watched them in silence.
While Vice-captain Marik kept a stern expression as he held the group together—Volga was trading jokes with comrades his own age, and Gregor was grumbling nonstop.
"My cooking comrade, it won't do to badmouth an old man."
"……I didn't say anythi—"
"Your eyes say it all, plain as day. Ahh, 'I've finally surpassed that wretched fool!' is what they say! Tonight's supper ought to be soup made from lting down silver shields!"
"……"
He let out a hollow laugh and humored the veteran rcenary.
It was just at that mont.
"Young Captain."
Along with the sound of hoofbeats, a familiar voice tickled his ear. It was Zahira—a warrior woman with dark, sun-weathered skin.
"Are you feeling alright?"
It had been a while since he'd spoken with her too.
"Yes. But—'Young Captain'……"
"Everyone calls you that now, don't they."
He hesitated briefly at the strange title. Then the other party opened her mouth again.
"Thank you."
"……That was sothing we all accomplished together."
Calix answered right away, but Zahira smiled and shook her head.
"I'm grateful for that too, but that's not what I ant."
"……What did you an?"
"You saved the infant."
He didn't know what to say, and fell silent. He'd heard that the newborn had been left in the hands of the resistance. But what connection could that have to Zahira?
eting his questioning gaze, the one who had brought it up fell briefly silent.
'Saying thank you is terribly hard.'
Zahira let out a long sigh. To make Calix understand, she would need to bring up her own past. And he was soone who deserved to hear it.
"I…… Grew up in the desert."
The words began to co, with difficulty.
This is the story of a woman who had buried her life beneath the sand and left it there.
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