Chapter 4 - Chapter 3:Nightmare Ends ...or does it?

(Do read A/N at the end ,enjoy)

Turning in the direction of the thundering noise, many slaves rose their heads — only to see rocks and heavy shards of ice raining down on them from above. They instantly panicked, lurching away in a cacophony of screams. Shadows happily danced on black stones as, entangled by the thick chain, those slaves fell to the ground and pulled others with them.

Sunny was one of the few that remained upright, mostly because he was ready for something like this to happen. Calm and collected, he gazed at the night sky, his Attribute-enhanced eyes piercing the darkness, and took one measured step back. In the next second, a piece of ice the size of a man's torso hit the ground right in front of him and exploded, showering everything around with sharp shards.

Others weren't that quick. As ice and stones continued to rain down, many were wounded, and a few even lost their lives. Agonized wails filled the air.

"On your feet, fools! Get to the wall!"The veteran soldier — the one who had whipped Sunny a few hours before — was shouting angrily, trying to get the slaves to move towards the relative safety of the mountain slope. However, before anyone could heed his command, something massive came crashing down, sending a tremor through the stones beneath their feet. It fell right between the caravan and the mountain wall, plunging everything into silence for a few seconds.

At first, it looked like a lump of dirty snow, roughly round in shape and as tall as a mounted horseman. However, once the creature unfurled its long limbs and rose, it towered over the stone platform like a nightmarish omen of death.

'That thing must be at least four meters tall,' Sunny thought, a bit stunned.

The creature had two stumpy legs, an emaciated, hunched torso, and disproportionately long, multi-jointed hands — two of them ending in horrifying bone claws, and another two, shorter, ending with almost human-like fingers. The thing that at first glance looked like dirty snow turned out to be its fur, yellowish-gray and ragged, thick enough to stop arrows and swords.

On its head, five milky, white eyes regarded the slaves with insect-like indifference. Beneath them, a terrible maw crowded with razor-sharp teeth was half open, as though in anticipation. Viscous drool was running down the creature's chin and dripping into the snow.

What unnerved Sunny the most, though, were the strange shapes endlessly moving, worm-like, under the creature's skin. He could see them clearly because, unfortunately, he was one of those unlucky souls closest to the monstrosity, getting a nauseating first-row view.

'Well, that is just… too much,' he thought, stupefied.

As soon as he finished that thought, all hell broke loose. The creature moved, slashing its claws in his general direction. But Sunny was one step ahead: without wasting a single moment, he jumped sideways — as far as the chain allowed — conveniently placing the broad-shouldered slave between himself and the monster.

His quick reaction saved his life, as those sharp claws, each as long as a sword, sliced through the broad-shouldered man a fraction of a second later and sent streams of blood flying through the air. Drenched in the hot liquid, Sunny hit the ground, and his fellow slave — now simply a corpse — fell on him from above.

'Damn! Why are you so heavy!'

Temporarily blinded, Sunny heard a chilling howl and felt an enormous shadow passing over him. Immediately after, a deafening chorus of screams filled the night. Not paying it any attention, he tried to roll the corpse to the side, but was stopped by a forceful lurch of the chain that twisted his wrists and filled his mind with white-hot pain. Disoriented, he felt himself being dragged a few steps, but then the chain suddenly slackened, and he was able to control his hands again.

'See, things could have been worse…'

Putting his palms against the dead man's chest, he pushed with all the strength he had. The heavy corpse stubbornly resisted, but then finally fell sideways, setting Sunny free. However, he didn't get to celebrate this new-found freedom, as his blood suddenly turned to ice.

Because at that moment, with his palms still pressed against the broad-shouldered slave's bleeding body, he clearly felt something wriggling under the dead man's skin.

'You just had to think about how things could get worse, right, you idiot?' he thought, and then flinched backward.

Pushing the corpse with his legs, Sunny crawled as far away from it as he could — which was about a meter and a half, thanks to the ever-present chain. He quickly glanced around, noticing a mass of dancing shadows and the silhouette of the monster rampaging amidst the screaming slaves on the opposite end of the stone platform. Then he concentrated on the dead body, which was starting to convulse with growing violence.

On the opposite side of the corpse, the shifty slave was looking at it with a slackened jaw and a horrified expression on his face. Sunny waved to get his attention.

"What are you staring at?! Move away from it!"

The shifty slave tried, but immediately fell down. The chain was twisted between the three of them, pinned down under the broad-shouldered man's weight.

Sunny clenched his teeth.

Right under his eyes, the corpse was going through a nightmare-inducing metamorphosis. Strange bone growths pierced its skin, extending like spikes. The muscles bulged and wriggled, as though trying to change shape. The fingernails were turning into sharp claws; the face cracked and split, bearing open a twisted mouth with one too many rows of bloodied, needle-like fangs.

'This is not right.'

Sunny twitched, feeling a strong urge to empty his stomach.

"Th–the chain!"

The scholarly slave was just a few steps behind the shifty one, pointing at his shackles with a face as pale as a ghost. That remark was far from helpful, but given the circumstances, his shock was understandable. Being shackled was bad enough, but being shackled to such a horror was truly unfair.

But Sunny's conclusion that things weren't right didn't come from self-pity. He just meant that this whole situation was literally not right: the Spell, mysterious as it was, had its own set of rules. There were rules for what types of creatures could appear in any given Nightmare.

Nightmare Creatures had their own hierarchy: from mindless Beasts to Monsters, followed by Demons, Devils, Tyrants, Terrors, and, finally, mythical Titans, also known as Calamities. The First Nightmare was almost always populated by beasts and monsters, rarely with a demon mixed in. And Sunny had never, ever heard about anything stronger than a single devil appearing in it.

However, this creature had clearly just created a lesser version of itself — an ability that belonged exclusively to tyrants, the sovereigns of the Nightmare Spell, and those above them.

What was this tyrant even doing in a First Nightmare?How powerful was that damn [Fated] Attribute?!

But there was no time to ponder. Unfair or not, there was only one person now who could save Sunny — himself.

The broad-shouldered man — or what was left of him — slowly rose, his mouth producing strange clicking noises. Without giving him time to fully come to his senses, Sunny cursed and jumped forward, grabbing onto the length of the slackened chain.

One of the monster's arms, now fully equipped with five jagged claws, shot forward to meet him, but Sunny sidestepped it with one calculated movement.

What saved his skin this time was not quick reaction, but simple presence of mind. Sunny might not have learned any fancy combat techniques, having spent his childhood on the streets instead of in a school, but the streets, too, were a kind of teacher. He had spent his whole life fighting for survival, quite often literally. That experience allowed him to keep a cool head on his shoulders in the midst of any conflict.

So instead of freezing or being consumed by fear and doubt, Sunny just acted.

Stepping closer, he threw the chain around the monster's shoulders and pulled, pinning its hands to its body. Before the creature, still slow and groggy from its transformation, could properly react, Sunny wrapped the chain around it several times, barely saving his face from being bitten off by the creature's terrifying maw.

The good thing was, the monster couldn't move its hands now.The bad thing was, the length of the chain he used to immobilize it was gone, leaving almost no distance between them.

"You two!" Sunny screamed, addressing his two fellow slaves. "Pull on that chain as though your lives depend on it!"

Because they were.

The shifty slave and the scholar gaped at him, then, understanding what he was thinking, started to move. Grabbing the chain from opposite directions, they pulled as hard as they could, tightening its grip on the monster and not letting it shake loose.

'Great!' Sunny thought.

The monster bulged its muscles, trying to break free. The chain creaked, caught on the bone spikes, as though slowly breaking apart.

'Not so great!'

Without wasting any more time, he threw his hands in the air and caught the monster's neck with the short, thinner chain connecting his shackles together. Then he circled the beast with a quick step and pulled, ending up back to back with it — as far away from its maw as he could get.

Sunny knew that he wasn't strong enough to strangle a man with his bare hands — let alone a weird, terrifying mutant like the one trying to eat him. But now, using his own back as a lever and the weight of his whole body to pull the shackles down, he at least stood a chance.

He pulled down with all his might, feeling the monster's body pressing against him, bone spikes brushing against his skin. The monster continued to struggle, clicking wildly and trying to break the chain that bound it.

Now it was just a question of what would break first — the chain, or the monster itself.

'Die! Die, you bastard!'

Sweat and blood rolled down Sunny's face as he pulled, and pulled, and pulled down with every ounce of strength he could muster. Every second felt like an eternity. His strength and stamina — what little he had to begin with — were quickly running out. His wounded back, wrists, and muscles, pierced by the bone spikes, were in agony.

And then, finally, Sunny felt the monster's body go limp.

A moment later, a faintly familiar voice rang in the air.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

[You have slain a dormant beast, Mountain King's Larva.]

Sunny sank to his knees, chest heaving, every breath a burning reminder that he was still alive. His body felt as if it had passed through a meat grinder — adrenaline could only mask so much, and the pain was rising like a tide. Yet, amid the agony, he felt an unexpected thrill. The satisfaction of having killed the larva surged within him, so strong that he forgot for a moment to be disappointed about the absence of a Memory — that rare relic of the Dream Realm, gifted by the Spell to those who defeated its monstrous denizens.

A magic sword or a suit of armor would have been ideal right now. Even a warm coat would have sufficed.

He glanced down at the broken body beside him. This was hardly the first man he had killed, and it wouldn't be the last. The man hadn't been an innocent — and in this world, the truly innocent rarely lasted long."Rest well," Sunny thought, brushing a hand over the corpse. "Your nightmare is over."His voice was grim, weighed down by memories of the countless times he had been forced to kill for survival. He shook his head sharply. Not now. Not when he had only a few precious seconds to recover.

After all, this nightmare was far from over.

He drew a slow breath and dragged himself to a crouch, forcing himself to assess the scene. The larva was dead, but the shackles still bound him to its mangled body. The shifty slave and the scholar, pale as death, worked frantically to untangle the chain that connected the three of them, hoping to gain some space to move.

Around them, broken bodies littered the ground. Torn flesh, severed limbs — a grim reminder that most had not been as lucky as he was. A few slaves had managed to slip their bonds and were running blindly into the night."Fools. They're dooming themselves," he thought.

At some point, the long chain binding the slaves had snapped. That explained why he had been dragged down when the panicked throng surged, why he had felt that sharp tug. An unexpected chance for escape, perhaps. But the shackles locking each man to a specific link still held fast, making that option worthless unless he had the means to unlock them.

The tyrant — the Mountain King — was still out there. He could feel its monstrous presence in the faint vibrations that shook the stone floor and in the faint, choking cries of the wounded. An occasional bellow shook the air, hinting that some soldiers were still trying to hold the beast at bay.

But that was not what drew his attention. What made the blood in his veins run cold was the sound of strange clicking and tearing, growing louder.

Several torn, lifeless bodies were starting to rise.

More larvae.Sunny felt his breath catch.

One after another, four mangled corpses twisted, rose, and reshaped themselves into monstrous parodies of life. The nearest one was only a few meters away. Its skin bubbled and split, bone spikes erupted from its flesh, and its mouth split open in a too-wide, too-many-fanged grin. The sound it made was like a death rattle.

"Damn it all," Sunny hissed.

He felt a sting of pity for those claimed by the terror. Death was one thing, but being twisted into a thing like this? Against their will? Against their nature? To him, it was the worst possible fate.

As strange clicking echoed across the stone platform, one of the beasts swiveled its deformed head towards the three shackled slaves. Its mouth snapped, and it surged toward them. The shifty slave fell backward with a squeak, whispering a prayer. The scholar froze where he stood.

Sunny cursed under his breath. His eyes swept the area for a weapon, finding only bare stone and mangled bodies. Without hesitation, he wrapped a length of chain around his knuckles and tightened his grip."Come at me, you bastard."

The larva surged forward — a flurry of claws, fangs, and terror. Sunny drew a breath, tensing to strike, when suddenly a figure streaked past him. A sharp blade hissed through the air, and the beast fell in a heap, its malformed head rolling across the stone floor.

Sunny blinked, momentarily too shocked to move. Slowly, he turned towards the figure. The young soldier — the one who had offered him water hours ago — stood tall, a grim, confident silhouette. Not a drop of blood marred the surface of his leather armor. Not a line of fear crossed his sharp, handsome features.

"He's… amazing," Sunny thought before quickly shaking himself."Poser. Definitely a poser."

With a sharp nod, the soldier advanced towards the three remaining larvae. After a few steps, he paused, glanced back, and drew a short, narrow rod from his belt. Without a word, he tossed it to Sunny.

"Save yourself!" the soldier called, then charged towards the monsters.

Sunny caught the rod out of the air, staring down at it for a breathless moment. An iron key. The key to the shackles.

A mad laugh bubbled up in his chest as he sank to one knee and twisted the rod into the lock. It took a moment to understand the mechanism, but soon came a sharp, satisfying click — and suddenly, he was free.

The wind kissed the raw, bloody skin of his wrists. Sunny rose slowly, brushing the sting away as a dark smile curved his lips.

"Just you wait."

For a moment, visions of vengeance surged within him. But then the sound of a panicked voice pulled him out of it.

"Boy! Over here!"Shifty waved wildly. Against his better judgment, Sunny felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving the man to die. Despite Shifty's threats and arrogance, despite how easy it would be to walk away, Sunny knew he wouldn't. Not tonight.

He crossed the space quickly, sank down, and worked the key into their shackles. The locks clicked open one by one. As soon as he was free, Shifty pushed him away and spun in a mad dance, laughing like a man possessed."Ha! Free! The gods must be smiling upon us tonight!"

The scholar was quieter. He placed a hand on Sunny's shoulder, smiling faintly despite the terror in his pale eyes, then glanced towards the sound of swords and monstrous screeches.

Two of the three larvae had fallen. The young soldier was a whirlwind of steel and precision, forcing the remaining beast backward despite its monstrous strength. An arm was gone, but the thing refused to die.

"What are you waiting for?! Run!" Shifty yelled and spun to sprint, only to be stopped by the scholar.

"My friend, I would–"

"If you say 'advise' one more time, I'll bash your head in!" Shifty growled.

The scholar met the threat with a grim stare and then sighed.

"If we run, we die."

"Why?!"

The scholar pointed towards the tall, blazing bonfire."Because without that flame, this mountain will kill us long before morning. We stay, we have a chance. We run, and we are as good as dead."

Sunny said nothing, because he already knew it was true. The Mountain King was a terror, yes — but the night itself was death. The cold would kill them long before any beast would. The dead man, the one Sunny had used as a shield, had been right about that much.

Shifty glanced at the surrounding darkness and cursed under his breath."Better to freeze than be eaten… or end up like one of those things." He waved towards the monstrous larvae. But there was no conviction in his voice. Slowly, he stepped backward, towards the looming black beyond the stone platform.

Behind them, the sound of steel and beastly screeches ebbed. The soldier had claimed victory for now. But where he had gone after that, none of them could say.

The scholar cleared his throat.

"The beast might be satisfied with those it has claimed. The Imperials might rally and drive it back. Or kill it. In any case, here by the bonfire, we have a chance. Out there?" He nodded towards the darkness. "Out there, we have none."

"What do we do?" Shifty demanded.

Sunny drew a long breath and tightened the length of chain still wrapped around his knuckles. The weight felt solid, grounding.

"Let's go take a look."

Shifty gawked as if he'd just proposed suicide.

"Are you insane? You want to get closer to that thing?!"

Sunny shrugged, brushing hair matted with blood and ice from his eyes, and started towards the sound of the rampaging monster.

"Better a quick death than a slow one."

Sunny was off to face a Nightmare Creature. And not just any creature, but one of the fifth category — a dreaded, fearsome tyrant. The odds of survival were so low that anyone would have laughed in his face if he ever suggested fighting it.Unless, of course, they were an Awakened two or three ranks above the creature.Which Sunny certainly wasn't.

And yet, he had to deal with this Mountain King somehow to avoid an even more miserable death. The absurd degree to which the odds had been stacked against him since the start of this delayed execution had gotten old a long time ago. He didn't have any more energy to be afraid.

What was there to fear, after all? He was already as good as dead. It's not like he could get any deader.

So why worry?

On the other side of the bonfire, things were turning from bad to worse. Most of the slaves were already dead. A few soldiers were still desperately trying to fight the monster, but it was clear they wouldn't last long. Right in front of Sunny's eyes, the tyrant picked up a dead slave, dragging the chain with him, and opened its terrifying maw wide.

With one crushing bite, the slave's body was torn in half, leaving only bloodied stumps inside the shackles.

Mountain King's five indifferent, milky eyes stared blankly into the distance as he chewed, streams of blood running down his chin.

Seeing that the creature's upper arms were occupied, one of the soldiers screamed and lunged forward with a long spear.

Without even turning its head, the tyrant extended one of its shorter lower arms, caught the soldier's head in an iron grip, and squeezed — crushing the man's skull like a soap bubble. A moment later, the headless corpse was tossed over the cliff and vanished into the abyss.

Shifty doubled over, vomiting his guts out. Then he shakily rose to his feet and glared at Sunny.

"Well? We've taken a look. Now what?"

Sunny didn't answer, pensively observing the tyrant, his head tilted slightly.

Shifty stared at him a moment longer, then turned to Scholar.

"I'm telling you, old man, the boy is sick in the head. How the hell can he be so calm?!"

"Shhh! Lower your voice, fool!"

Blood drained from Shifty's face. He slapped himself and covered his mouth with both hands, then cast a fearful glance in the tyrant's direction.

Luckily, the abomination was too busy feasting on the slaves — the lucky ones who were already dead, and the unlucky ones who were still alive — to notice them.

Shifty slowly exhaled.

Sunny, meanwhile, was thinking — trying to measure his nonexistent chances of survival.

How do I get rid of that thing?

He had no special powers. No army. Not even a proper weapon to scratch the damn bastard.

Sunny looked past the creature into the endless darkness of the moonless sky.

As he stared, a bright flash streaked through the air and collided with one of the tyrant's arms, bursting into a rain of sparks.

The young soldier — Sunny's heroic liberator — had just thrown a burning piece of wood at the monster and was now defiantly raising his sword.

"Face me, devil!"

'A distraction! Just what I needed!'

Because there was no way Sunny could kill the Mountain King with his bare hands, he'd decided to enlist some help. Not from a human — they wouldn't stand a chance — but from a force of nature.

'Since I can't do the bastard in myself, let's make gravity do it for me.'

He was still working out the details when the young hero's idiotic bravado presented an opportunity. Now, everything depended on how long that pompous idiot could stay alive.

"Come with me!" Sunny shouted, already running toward the far end of the stone platform, where a heavy wagon sat dangerously close to the cliff's edge.

Shifty and Scholar exchanged a dubious look, then followed — perhaps confusing his calmness with confidence or divine inspiration. After all, it was a widely known fact that crazy people were often favored by the gods.

Behind them, Hero ducked under the tyrant's claws, his sword flashing ineffectively against the monster's thick hide and matted fur. Mountain King moved with terrifying speed, striking with all four arms.

Sunny couldn't see that. He was sprinting, closing in on the wagon. Once there, he quickly scanned for larvae and moved to the rear wheels.

The wagon sat at the narrow end of the platform where the path turned back into road. It was positioned sideways to block the wind, with its front against the mountain wall and its back facing the cliff. Two large wooden wedges were braced under the rear wheels to stop it from rolling.

Sunny pointed at the wedges.

"When I say, remove them both. Then push. Got it?"

"What? Why?" Shifty asked, blinking.

Scholar just looked from the wedges to the tyrant.

Hero was — miraculously — still alive, ducking and weaving between the creature's limbs, always just half a second from death. His sword flashed again, utterly useless. There was a flicker of apprehension in his eyes.

All the other soldiers were dead. That one just had to live a bit longer.

'Don't die yet!' Sunny thought.

To Shifty, he simply said, "You'll see."

He took off again, following the chain from where it was braced to the wagon. It was hard to track — the ground was thick with blood, bodies, and viscera — but luck, for once, was on his side.

Soon, he found what he was looking for: the torn end of the chain.

Nearby lay a horribly mutilated slave still locked in his shackles. Sunny dropped to his knees and started fumbling with the key.

A muffled scream. A blur. Hero was flying through the air, finally struck.

Amazingly, he landed on his feet and skidded across the stones. No broken limbs. No visible wounds. He picked up his sword, rolled forward, then sideways — narrowly avoiding a crushing stomp.

Rolling?! Who the hell rolls around in this situation?!

Sunny finally unlocked the shackles, shook the dead slave out of them, and quickly locked them again — this time around the chain itself, creating a loop. A noose.

Everything now depended on his aim. His timing. And a whole lot of luck.

Turning to Shifty and Scholar, still by the wagon, he yelled:"Now!"

He picked up the chain and faced the tyrant.

Hero glanced at him, then at the chain — and the wagon. He gave no sign, just intensified his assault, pulling the monster's focus away from Sunny.

So he's smart, too? What a scam!

Sunny centered himself. Weight of the chain. Distance. Target.

Time slowed.

Please, don't miss.

With all his strength, Sunny spun and flung the chain — like a fisherman casting a net. The loop soared… and in the last moment, Mountain King flinched.

The chain landed — not on the ground. Around his neck.

A perfect, accidental noose.

Sunny froze in disbelief.

Then clenched his fists, trembling with held-back triumph.

YES!

The wagon would fall. The chain would tighten. The tyrant would go down with it.

He looked back — and paled.

Shifty and Scholar had removed the wedges and were pushing, but the wagon was moving far too slowly.

The tyrant grasped the chain around its neck.

Sunny panicked.

Hero slammed into the tyrant's leg, throwing it off balance — buying seconds.

Sunny sprinted to the wagon, cursing wildly. He slammed into its side with everything he had.

Roll, you creaky piece of shit!

The wagon rolled faster, but the tyrant, recovering, started tearing at the chain.

Its claws — built for rending flesh — weren't precise enough to manipulate the metal. It struggled.

The wagon creaked closer to the edge.

Come on! Just a little more!

Rear wheels tipped over. The wagon teetered, balanced on its middle. The tyrant turned, blank gaze fixing on the three slaves.

The wagon lurched.

Only Sunny remained standing. He threw his full weight into it.

The wagon tipped — scraped over the cliff, vanishing into the abyss.

Sunny fell forward, barely saving himself from falling after it.

He turned, grinning darkly.

The Mountain King lunged — too late.

The noose yanked. The tyrant flew over the cliff like a rag doll.

Not a sound. As though it couldn't believe it had been defeated by a tiny human.

Go and die, bastard, Sunny thought.

He dropped to the ground, completely spent.

Is this it? Did I pass the trial?

Wrongness still lingered. A subtle unease.The Mountain King didn't feel dead.

Something else stirred. Something in him. A whisper of instinct.

It was telling him what to do next.

And that something?

It was telling him to kill Hero.

He lay on the cold stone, staring at the stars, waiting for the faint voice to announce his victory.

But instead, wave after wave of pain flooded in — everything he had ignored came crashing down.

His skin burned where whips had torn it. Bone spikes had pierced him. Cold sank back into his bones.

What else am I supposed to do?

Would I really have to kill him? If I even can?

A dark figure loomed overhead.

Hero. Still calm. Still handsome. Scratched armor, but otherwise fine. He extended a hand.

"Stand up. You'll freeze to death."

Sunny sighed. His First Nightmare wasn't over.

He clenched his teeth, ignored the outstretched hand, and slowly stood.

Around them was only death. Bodies torn apart. Carcasses of larvae. The bonfire flickered over the carnage, uncaring.

Sunny didn't care either.

Shifty and Scholar were already up, eyeing Hero warily. They were still slaves. And he, still a soldier.

Hero noticed, and sighed.

"Come to the fire. We need warmth. And to decide what comes next."

He turned and walked away.

After a pause, the others followed.

Soon, the four sat around the fire. Shifty and Scholar together, keeping distance from Hero.

Sunny sat alone — not because he distrusted them more, but because he just didn't like people.

He'd always been a misfit. He'd tried to be close to others. But something in him was… missing.

An invisible wall. A gear everyone else had, but he didn't. Human behavior baffled him, and his efforts to mimic it always failed.

Others sensed the strangeness. They hated what they couldn't understand.

So, he learned to be alone. It made him self-reliant — and, often, safe.

But it wasn't like he had no one. He had someone. Two people, even — though one didn't yet know he existed.

So he had to survive. No matter the odds. If fate stood in his way?

He'd rip the threads of fate and use them to weave a new one — his own.

That's why he wasn't thrilled to share this Nightmare with strangers. Instead of speaking, he stared into the fire.

Minutes passed. Then, Hero broke the silence:

"When the sun rises, we'll gather what food and water we can and go back down the mountain."

Shifty scowled.

"Why should we go back? To be put in chains again?"

The young soldier sighed.

"We can go our separate ways once we leave the mountains. But until then,

 I'm still responsible for your lives. We can't continue up the road since the

 way over the mountain pass is long and arduous. Without the supplies that

 were stored on the wagon, your chances of making it are not high. That's

 why going back is our best hope."

Scholar opened his mouth, planning to say something, but then thought better of it and remained silent. Shifty cursed, seemingly convinced by Hero's rational words.

"We can't go down."

All three of them turned to Sunny, surprised to hear his voice.

Shifty barked a laugh and glanced at the soldier. "Don't listen to him, your lordship. This boy is, uh, touched by the gods. He's crazy, is what I'm trying to say."

Hero frowned, looking at the slaves. "The two of you are only alive thanks to this child's bravery. Aren't you ashamed to badmouth him so?"

Shifty shrugged, showing that he wasn't ashamed at all. The young soldier shook his head. "I, for one, would like to hear his reasoning. Tell me, why can't we go down?"

Sunny shifted, uncomfortable in the center of everyone's attention. "Because the monster isn't dead."

These ominous words hung in the silence. Three pairs of eyes widened, staring right at Sunny.

"Why do you say that?"

The tyrant was still alive. His reasoning was pretty straightforward: he did not hear the Spell congratulating him on slaying the creature after it fell off the cliff. Which meant that it was not slain.

Besides, his attribute Sense had already told him that the tyrant wasn't dead, and this Nightmare wasn't over. But he couldn't explain that to his companions.

He pointed up. "The monster jumped from an incredible height to land on this platform. Yet it wasn't harmed at all. Why would it be killed by falling off the platform?"

Neither Hero nor the slaves could find a flaw in his argument.

Sunny continued. "Which means that it's still alive, somewhere down the mountain. So by going back, we will be delivering ourselves into its maw."

Shifty cursed loudly and crawled closer to the bonfire, staring into the darkness with terror in his eyes. Scholar rubbed his temples, mumbling: "Of course. Why didn't I realize myself?"

Hero was the most stoic of the three. After thinking it over, he nodded. "Then we go up and over the mountain pass. But that's not all…"

He glanced in the direction where the tyrant had fallen. "If the monster is still alive, there is a high possibility that it will return here, and then pursue us. Which means that time is of the essence. We will need to move as soon as the sun rises."

He gestured to the torn bodies littering the platform. "We can't allow ourselves to rest the whole night anymore. We need to gather supplies now. If there was a chance, I would have liked to give these people at least a humble burial after gathering all that we can from them, but alas, fate has decided otherwise."

Hero rose to his feet and brandished a sharp knife. Shifty tensed up and watched the blade carefully, but then relaxed, seeing that the young soldier showed no sign of aggression.

"Food, water, warm clothes, firewood. That is what we need to find. Let us split up and accomplish one task each."

Then he pointed at himself with the tip of the knife. "I will carve the oxen carcasses to get us some meat."

Scholar looked around the stone platform — most of it drowning in deep shadows — and grimaced. "I'll look for firewood."

Shifty also glanced left and right, with a strange gleam in his eyes.

Sunny knew that gleam — greed, as visible in Shifty's eyes.

'Probably planning to loot the bodies of riches.'

"Then I'll go find us something warm to wear."

Sunny was the last one left. Hero gave him a long look. "Most of our water was stored on the wagon. But each of my fallen brothers was carrying a flagon. Gather as many as you can find."

Sometime later, far enough from the bonfire to be hidden in the shadows, Sunny was searching for dead soldiers, with half a dozen flagons already weighing him down. Shivering in the cold, he finally stumbled upon the last broken body clad in leather armor.

It was the old veteran — the one who had whipped him for trying to accept Hero's flask. The man was badly injured and dying, but miraculously, still clinging to life. Horrible wounds covered his chest and stomach. He was clearly in a lot of pain. His time was running out.

Sunny knelt beside the dying soldier and looked him over, searching for the man's flagon.

'What irony,' he thought.

The older man tried to focus his eyes on Sunny, weakly moving his hand, reaching for something. Sunny followed his gesture and noticed a shattered sword lying on the ground not far away. Curious, he picked it up.

"Are you looking for this? Why? Are you guys like Vikings, longing to die with a weapon in your hands?"

The soldier didn't answer, watching the young slave with some unknown, intense emotion in his eyes.

Sunny sighed.

"Well, it might as well do. After all, I promised to watch you die."

With that, he leaned forward and slit the old man's throat with the sharp edge of the broken blade, then tossed it aside. The soldier twitched, drowning in his own blood. The expression in his eyes changed — was it gratitude? Or hatred? Sunny couldn't tell.

'At the very least…'

'Rest well. Your nightmare is over.'

Though it wasn't his first time killing a human, Sunny had expected to feel guilt. Or fear. But actually… there was nothing at all. It seemed that, for better or worse, his cruel upbringing in the real world had prepared him well for this moment.

He sat quietly near the old man, keeping him company on his final journey.

After a while, the Spell's voice whispered into his ear:

[You have slain a dormant human, name unknown.]

Sunny flinched.

'Oh, right. Killing people is also an achievement, as far as the Spell is concerned. They don't usually show this in webtoons and dramas.'

He registered the fact and mentally shelved it. But the Spell wasn't done.

[You have received a Memory…]

Sunny froze, his eyes flying open.

'Yes! Come on, give me something good!'

Memories could be anything — weapons, enchanted items, tools. One received from a dormant-ranked enemy wouldn't be especially powerful, but it was still a boon: weightless, undetectable, summonable from nothingness at a thought. More importantly, he'd be able to bring it back with him to the real world.

The advantage of having something like that in the outskirts was hard to overestimate.

'A weapon! Give me a sword!'

But… for some reason, he already knew he wasn't going to get something useful.

[…Received a Memory: Silver Bell.]

…He was right.

Sunny sighed, disappointed.

'Well, with my luck, what was I expecting?'

Still, it was worth checking out. Maybe it had some powerful enchantment — destructive sonic waves, projectile repulsion, something like that?

He summoned the runes and focused on the name: Silver Bell.

Immediately, an image of a small bell appeared before his eyes, with a short string of text beneath:

[Silver Bell: A small memento of a long-lost home, which once brought its owner comfort and joy. Its clear ringing can be heard from miles away.]

'What a piece of crap,' Sunny thought, dejected.

His first Memory turned out to be useless… just like everything else he possessed. He was almost starting to see a pattern in how the Spell was treating him.

Sunny dismissed the runes and turned back to the dead man, removing the fur cloak and the warm, sturdy leather boots. As an officer, his gear was a notch above what the regular soldiers wore. After putting them on, Sunny finally felt warm for the first time since the Nightmare had begun — discounting the short time by the fire.

'Perfect,' he thought.

The cloak was a bit bloodied — but then again, so was Sunny.

He didn't know if the Mountain King could follow them by scent, tracking the blood. He wanted to wash himself, but water was scarce, and the road ahead wouldn't get any easier. He decided against it.

Glancing around, he peered easily through the darkness with his tenebrous eyes. Hero and Scholar were still working on their respective tasks. Shifty — who was supposed to be gathering warm clothing — was instead greedily pulling rings off dead fingers.

Sunny recognized that gleam in his eyes: greed.

'Figures. Probably planning to loot the bodies of riches.'

Unseen by them, Sunny hesitated.

'Have I really thought things through?'

His companions were unreliable. The future was uncertain. Even the requirements to pass the Nightmare remained a mystery. Every decision he made was a gamble.

'Still… I have to make some if I want to survive.'

Not wasting more time, Sunny picked up the flagons and sighed.

They spent the rest of the night seated with their backs to the bonfire, staring fearfully into the darkness. Despite the exhaustion, no one could sleep. The possibility of the tyrant returning to finish off the four survivors was too terrifying.

Only Hero seemed unbothered, calmly sharpening his sword in the flickering light.

The rhythmic scrape of the whetstone against the blade was oddly comforting.

"You seem to really like your sword, sir," Sunny said, glancing over.

Hero looked up, a little surprised that he'd spoken first.

"Well, you're right. But then again, which swordsman wouldn't? Though I do have a different reason, of course." He smiled faintly.

"What are you going to do now, sir — if we, or you, survive from here? All the soldiers are dead. The slaves too."

Hero frowned. "So many people died… but this many soldiers mean little to the Empire's army. At worst, I'll be punished by being sent to the frontlines at my age."

Sunny was quiet for a while before he asked softly, "Why save us, sir? You could've just left us to die."

Scholar and Shifty immediately glared at him, screaming with their eyes: Why are you trying to change his mind?!

Hero considered it for a moment, then said with a shrug, "No reason, really. Besides, I already said I'll take responsibility until we part ways."

Sunny hesitated before speaking."I… I'm sorry if I'm prying, sir. But I don't know why—I have this strange feeling that you carry some great burden on your shoulders."

Hero looked up, a flicker of astonishment passing through his eyes."Why, child… you really do have a good eye, huh?" He paused for a breath, then nodded slightly. "Yes. There is something I'm tasked to do. Something I must do. It wouldn't be far-fetched to call it… my fate. And until I've fulfilled it, I can't rest."

He looked down, the firelight catching something strange in his eyes—something heavy, distant, and quietly tragic. Then, almost too softly to hear, he mumbled to himself:"My life isn't my own."

Only Sunless saw his eyes in that moment.Only he heard the last murmured confession.

 At the break of dawn, when the sun had lazily begun to warm up the air,

 they loaded themselves with all the supplies they'd managed to gather and

 set out into the cold.

 Sunny looked back, taking in the sight of the stone platform for the last

 time. He had managed to get past the place where the slave caravan was

 supposed to perish. Last night's conversation and Hero's confession still fresh on his mind. What was going to happen next? No one could tell.

There was a problem.

They were planning to follow the road up to the mountain pass and then over it, getting as far away from the scene of the massacre as they could before nightfall. However, the road was no more.

At some point during the last few months—or perhaps just yesterday—a terrible rockfall had occurred, obliterating whole segments of the narrow roadway and making its remaining parts untraversable. Sunny stood on the precipice of a vast chasm, looking down with no particular expression on his face.

"What do we do now?"

Scholar's voice was muffled by the collar of his scavenged fur cloak. His follower, Shifty, angrily looked around. His gaze stopped at Sunny—an easy target to vent his frustration on.

"I'll tell you what we need to do! Get rid of some dead weight!"

He eyed Sunny's fine boots and turned to Hero.

"Listen, your lordship. The boy is too weak. He's slowing us down! Plus, he's weird. Doesn't he give you the creeps?"

The young soldier answered with a judgmental frown, but Shifty wasn't done.

"Look! Look how he's glaring at me! I swear to the gods, ever since he joined the caravan, nothing has gone right. Maybe the old man was right—the boy is cursed by the Shadow God!"

Sunny struggled not to roll his eyes. It was true that he was unlucky; however, the truth was the opposite of what Shifty was trying to insinuate. It was not that he had brought misfortune to the slave caravan—on the contrary, it was because the caravan had been doomed from the start that he had ended up here.

Scholar cleared his throat."But I've never said that…"

"Whatever! Shouldn't we get rid of him just in case? He can't go on for much longer anyway!"

Scholar gave Sunny a strange look. Perhaps Sunny was getting paranoid, but there seemed to be a bit of calculating coldness in the older slave's eyes. Finally, Scholar shook his head.

"Don't be too hasty, my friend. The boy might prove useful later on."

"But—"

'Useful? In what way? To act as bait so you two can escape?' Sunny scowled in his mind.

Hero finally spoke, putting an end to their quarrel.

"We're not going to leave anyone behind. As for how much longer he'll be able to endure—just worry about yourself."

Shifty clenched his teeth, but then just waved a hand."Fine. So what do we do then?"

The four of them looked at the broken road, then down the slope of the mountain, and finally up, where a sheer cliff wall had been broken apart by the falling rocks. After a moment of silence, Scholar finally spoke:

"Actually… in the old days, there used to be a path leading to the peak of the mountain. It was sometimes used by pilgrims. Later, the Empire widened parts of it and built a proper road on top—now leading to the mountain pass instead of the peak, of course."

He looked up.

"The remnants of the original path should still be somewhere above us. If we reach it, we should be able to find our way back to the undamaged section of the road."

Everyone followed his gaze, shifting uncomfortably at the prospect of climbing the treacherous slope. Except for Hero, of course, who remained as calm as a saint.

Due to the rockfall, the slope wasn't an almost vertical wall anymore, but still, the incline was quite sharp.

Shifty was the first to speak.

"Climb that? Are you insane?"

Scholar helplessly shrugged."Do you have a better idea?"

No one did.

After a bit of preparation, they began the ascent. Shifty and Scholar stubbornly carried the weapons they had picked up off the dead soldiers' bodies, but Sunny—with some regret—decided to leave his newfound short sword behind. He knew this climb would test the limits of their endurance.

The sword might not have seemed heavy right now, but every extra gram of weight was bound to feel like a ton all too soon. As the weakest member of the group, he was already struggling to keep up, so there wasn't much choice. Shedding a few kilograms of iron was the right thing to do.

Walking up the mountain road with the weight of the supplies on his shoulders had already been hard enough, but climbing the mountain itself turned out to be pure torture. Just half an hour in, he felt like his muscles were going to melt, with his lungs on the verge of imploding.

Clenching his teeth, Sunny continued to move forward and upward. He had to constantly remind himself to watch his footing—on this unstable, icy slope, one misstep was enough to send a man tumbling to his death.

'Just think about something pleasant,' he thought.

But what happy thoughts could he summon?

Then again, annoying a certain girl had been his greatest pastime… might as well think about her now. After all…

Still, Sunny forced his mind to imagine the reward he might receive at the end of this trial. The Boon of the First Nightmare was the most important gift bestowed upon an Awakened by the Spell.

Sure, later trials could provide more abilities and vastly increase one's power. But it was this first one that determined what role an Awakened could play, how great their potential might become, and what price they would have to pay… not to mention giving them the necessary tools to survive and grow in the Dream Realm.

The main benefit of the First Nightmare's Boon was simple, yet arguably the most vital: after completing the trial, Aspirants were granted the ability to perceive and interact with Soul Cores. These were the essence of power, the foundation of one's rank. The stronger your Core, the greater your might.

The same held true for Nightmare Creatures—but with a deadly twist: unlike humans, they could possess multiple cores. A lowly beast had just one… but a tyrant like the Mountain King had five.

Coincidentally, the only way to improve a Soul Core was to consume Soul Shards scavenged from the corpses of Dream Realm inhabitants. That's why the Awakened risked their lives to battle these horrors.

The second benefit was less straightforward, but just as crucial. After completing the First Nightmare, Aspirants were elevated to the rank of Dreamers, colloquially called Sleepers. They gained access to the Dream Realm itself, entering it on the first winter solstice after passing their trial. They would remain there until they found an exit—thus becoming fully Awakened.

That small window between the end of the First Nightmare and the descent into the Dream Realm was invaluable. It was the last chance to train, prepare, and gather strength.

'In my case,' Sunny thought bitterly, 'that time is only about two months. As bad as it gets.'

And then there was the final benefit, unique to every Aspirant who survived their trial…

The First Aspect Ability.

This was the so-called "magic power" that elevated the Awakened above mundane humans. Aspect Abilities were diverse, unique, powerful. Some were categorized—combat, sorcery, utility—but many defied classification.

Armed with these Abilities, the Awakened had been able to save the world from the flood of Nightmare Creatures.

However, there was a price.

With their first Ability, every Awakened also received a Flaw—sometimes called a Counter. These Flaws were as unique as the Abilities themselves: some harmless, some crippling, others… fatal.

'I wonder what kind of Ability a temple slave would get,' Sunny thought, not overly optimistic. 'The choice of Flaws, on the other hand, seems endless. Let's hope my Aspect will evolve at the end of this fiasco. Or, even better, change completely.'

If an Aspirant performed especially well, their given Aspect had a chance of undergoing early evolution. Aspects, like Soul Cores, had ranks based on rarity and power. The hierarchy went:

Dormant, Awakened, Ascended, Transcendent, Supreme, Sacred, and—at the peak—Divine.Though no one had ever seen the last three.

'With all the crap it's put me through, the Spell—if it has any conscience—has to give me at least an Awakened Aspect. Right? Or maybe… even an Ascended one!'

Finally, there was a tiny possibility of receiving a True Name — something like an honorary title bestowed by the Spell to its favorite Awakened. The name itself had no inherent power, but every famous Awakened seemed to have one. It was considered the highest mark of excellence.

However, the number of people who had received a True Name during their First Nightmare was so small that Sunny didn't even bother thinking about it.

'Who needs excellence? Give me power!'

He cursed internally, feeling that even this short moment of wishful thinking had only made him more depressed and angry.

'Maybe I'm allergic to dreaming.'

An allergy like that would be truly ironic, considering that he was destined to spend half his remaining life in the Dream Realm — if he even lived long enough to reach it.

However, Sunny's mental escapade wasn't completely useless. Looking up from the slippery rocks beneath his feet, he noticed that the sun had already sunk considerably lower. Now that he thought of it, the air felt much colder too.

'At least it helped me pass the time,' Sunny thought.

The night was approaching.

By the time they finally decided to stop, Sunny was on the verge of fainting. After hours of traversing the rough mountain slope, his body was almost at its limit. Yet, to everyone's surprise, Shifty seemed to be doing even worse.

The roguish slave's eyes were muddy and unfocused, his breath ragged and shallow — as if something unseen was pressing on his lungs. He looked feverish and unwell.

As soon as Hero found a suitable place for camp, Shifty collapsed onto the ground. Strangely, there was no angry cursing this time. The silence was more unnerving than any insult he might have thrown. The man lay motionless, only the slow rise and fall of his chest proving he was still alive.

Moments later, with a trembling hand, he uncorked his flagon and greedily drank several large gulps.

"Conserve your water," Hero said, a faint edge of concern creeping into his usually stoic tone.

Ignoring the warning, Shifty emptied the flagon completely.

Scholar didn't look much better. The climb had taken a heavy toll on the older slave. Despite the bitter cold, he was drenched in sweat, his eyes bloodshot and his face grim.

Yet somehow, the weakest of them all — Sunny — had managed to endure best.

"Can't we just melt the snow once there's no more water?"

Hero gave Scholar a complicated look.

"There might come a time when we can't make a fire… not if we want to avoid unwanted attention."

No one responded. They all knew exactly what kind of attention he meant. The horror of Mountain King was still far too fresh.

Luckily, today Hero had found a natural alcove in the mountain wall, perched behind a narrow ledge. The fire was well-hidden among the rocks, giving them warmth without risk of being seen.

No one was in the mood to speak. They simply roasted slices of oxen meat above the flames and ate in silence.

By the time the skies turned pitch black, Shifty and Scholar were already asleep — lost in the throes of their own nightmares. Hero took out his sword and moved to the edge of the outcropping.

"Try to rest. I'll take the first watch."

Sunny nodded and lay down near the fire, dead tired. Falling asleep inside a dream was a strange concept… but to his surprise, it felt entirely mundane. As soon as his head touched the ground, darkness overtook him.

It felt like only a second had passed before someone gently shook him awake. Groggy and disoriented, Sunny blinked a few times and saw Hero leaning over him.

"These two don't look too well. Let them rest a bit more. Don't let the flames die. Wake us at sunrise… or if the beast appears."

Sunny nodded silently and traded places with Hero, who tossed a couple of logs into the fire and was soon fast asleep.

For a while, Sunny was alone.

The skies were a cold abyss — black, distant stars scattered like frozen dust, and a sharp crescent moon hung low on the horizon. But its light couldn't pierce the consuming darkness surrounding the mountain.

Only Sunny's eyes could.

He sat quietly, staring back down the path they had climbed. Despite the height they had gained, he could still make out the distant ribbon of the road. He could even trace it back to the stone platform — the place where they had faced the tyrant.

The tiny dots littering the stone were dead bodies.

As he watched, a dark figure slowly crawled onto the platform from beneath the cliff. It paused, motionless… then began to move, its claws scraping against the stone. Every time one touched a corpse, the tyrant dragged it to its maw.

The wind carried faint, sickening sounds — crunching bones.

Sunny flinched, accidentally dislodging a small rock with his boot. It rolled down the slope, knocking a few others loose. The clatter echoed like thunder in the dead of night.

Far below, the tyrant abruptly turned its head and stared directly at him.

Sunny froze. Every muscle locked. He didn't dare breathe.

The Mountain King stared for what felt like an eternity, and then — without a sound — turned away, returning to its gruesome feast.

'It's blind,' Sunny realized, eyes wide.

He inhaled sharply, watching the tyrant with newfound clarity.

It made sense — the milky, lifeless eyes, the fact that they'd never moved. And back during the wagon incident, it had only reacted after the crash, once sound gave him away.

'Of course… that's it. That's the key. It hunts by sound.'

At dawn, Sunny woke the others.

Hero had hoped a full night's sleep would restore Shifty and Scholar… but his hope was crushed.

Both of them looked worse than before. Scholar, weakened by the brutal climb, was barely holding on. Shifty, however, looked like death itself — pale, shaking, lost.

"What's wrong with him?"

Scholar, himself a ghost of strength, shook his head.

"It might be mountain sickness. It affects people differently…"

His voice was raspy, barely audible.

"I'm fine, assholes. Get outta my face…"Shifty could barely form full sentences, but insisted he was alright.

Hero frowned. Without another word, he took most of the supplies Shifty had been carrying and added them to his own load. After hesitating, he gave a portion to Sunny as well.

"Did anything happen while we were asleep?"

Sunny stared at him, then finally said:

"The monster ate the dead."

Hero's expression darkened.

"How do you know?"

"I heard it."

Hero stepped to the cliff's edge and peered down at the stone platform. After a long minute, his jaw clenched — a flicker of uncertainty visible for the first time.

"Then we have to move faster. If it's done with the corpses… we're next. We need to find that old path before nightfall."

Frightened and dejected, they resumed the climb.

Sunny was slowly being crushed by the added weight. Thankfully, most of the water had already been drunk, lightening the load. But even so…

'This is hell,' he thought.

They climbed higher. The sun followed, crawling slowly toward its zenith. There was no talk, no sound but the wind and their ragged breaths. Each of the four was consumed by his own pain.

But Shifty… Shifty was falling behind.

More and more with each step, his body refusing to obey. Then — a sudden scream. Sunny turned.

He caught a glimpse of the panic in Shifty's face just before his foot slipped on the ice-slick stone. The man fell back, hit the ground hard, and began rolling down the slope. He clawed desperately, grabbing for anything—

—but it was too late.

Frozen in place, the others could only watch.

Shifty tumbled like a rag doll, striking rocks, his body twisting unnaturally. Then, finally, he crashed into a large, jagged boulder with a sickening thud.

A pile of blood and shattered limbs.

Shifty was dead.

The three of them stood motionless, gazing down in uneasy silence. What had happened to Shifty wasn't unexpected… but that didn't make it easier to digest. An ominous weight settled in their chests — seeing the broken remnants of their companion, it was all too easy to picture one of them ending up the same.

No one spoke.

After a long minute, Scholar exhaled quietly.

"It's a good thing you took most of the supplies he was carrying."

A bit heartless… but not wrong, Sunny thought, casting the older man a sideways glance.

Scholar frowned, realizing too late that his carefully constructed mask had slipped. He hastily added, this time in a somber tone:

"May you rest in peace, my friend."

'Wow. What a performance.'

Sunny hadn't believed in the act of benevolence for a second. Every kid from the outskirts knew — people who were kind for no reason were the most dangerous. They were either fools or monsters. Scholar didn't seem like a fool.

So Sunny had been wary of him since the beginning.

He'd made it this far by being a cynic, and there was no good reason to change now.

"We have to go," Hero said, casting one final look at the shattered corpse below.

His voice was even. But Sunny could feel something buried beneath the words — something sharp, some unseen weight. He just couldn't tell what kind.

Scholar turned away first, sighing quietly. Sunny lingered, staring at the bloody stones for a few more seconds.

'Why do I feel guilty?' he wondered, troubled by the emotion. 'He got what he deserved.'

Still unsettled, he turned away and followed the others.

Just like that, they left Shifty behind and climbed onward.

The mountain grew crueler the higher they went.

The wind slammed into them with enough force to knock a man off his feet, turning each step into a gamble. The thin air was hard to breathe — every lungful felt like it was half-missing.

Sunny's head throbbed. His limbs ached. Nausea twisted in his gut.

Altitude sickness didn't care how strong you were. It didn't respect endurance. It came for everyone — sometimes crippling even elite soldiers while letting weaker people skate by. There was no fairness to it. Only luck.

Some recovered quickly. Others suffered for days… or never made it back down at all.

To make things worse, the cold was intensifying. The furs and scavenged cloaks were no longer enough. Sunny felt feverish and freezing at once, his thoughts half-mad with exhaustion and pain.

'This mountain isn't meant for humans.'

And yet, they climbed.

Hours passed. Somehow, the three survivors continued forward, dragging their weary bodies higher and higher. Wherever the lost path was, it had to be close by now.

Sunny prayed it wasn't a lie. A cruel joke by Scholar to keep them moving.

'What if there's nothing left? What if we already missed it?'

But just as despair began to creep in, they found it.

The path was narrow and weathered, barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast. Not paved — no, it had been carved directly from the mountain's dark rock, winding like the spine of a great sleeping beast. Snow covered it in places. But the ground beneath was solid. Flat.

Sunny had never been so happy to see something flat in his life.

Without a word, Scholar dropped his pack and slumped down, gasping like a fish on dry land. His face was ghostly pale… but there was a hint of triumph in his crooked smile.

"Told you."

Hero gave a quiet nod, surveying their surroundings. Then he turned back to the grinning man.

"Stand up. It's not time to rest."

Scholar blinked, then looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Just… just a few minutes…"

Hero opened his mouth to respond, but Sunny suddenly laid a hand on his shoulder.

The soldier turned to him, confused.

"What is it?"

"It's gone."

"What is gone?"

Sunny gestured back down the slope.

"Shifty's body. It's gone."

Hero stared blankly for a moment, not understanding.

'Oh. Right. They don't know his name is Shifty. Awkward.'

Before Sunny could explain, both Scholar and Hero moved toward the edge, peering down. They scanned the jagged rocks.

Blood still stained the place where Shifty had fallen.

But the body… the body was nowhere to be found.

Scholar flinched and stumbled back from the edge, crawling away on his hands. Hero also retreated, his hand resting instinctively on his sword hilt.

They exchanged tense glances.

Understanding dawned between them.

"It's the monster," Scholar whispered. He looked even paler than before. "It's following us."

Hero gritted his teeth.

"You're right. If it's already this close… we'll be forced to fight it soon."

The mere idea of fighting the tyrant felt ludicrous — suicidal. He might as well have said: we're all going to die.

Sunny and Scholar clearly understood that much.

And yet, oddly, Scholar didn't seem panicked. Instead, he lowered his gaze and said quietly:

"Not necessarily."

Hero and Sunny turned toward him. The young soldier raised an eyebrow.

"Explain."

'Here it comes.'

Scholar sighed, then spoke with eerie calm.

"If it reached us this fast, that means one of two things: either it's intelligent enough to predict where we're going… or it's following the scent of blood."

Hero mulled over the words, then nodded slowly.

Scholar allowed himself a faint smile.

"In either case, we can mislead it — buy ourselves some time."

"How?"

The urgency in Hero's voice made Scholar pause. He hesitated. Then — as if reluctantly — he answered.

Sunny had been waiting for this.

"We'll just have to… make the boy bleed. Drag him down the trail. Leave him as bait. The scent of fresh blood will pull the monster away."

'Right on time.'

If he weren't exhausted and terrified, Sunny would've applauded. His instincts had been right. Scholar hadn't changed since that first day — he'd just waited for the right moment.

Those seemingly kind words back then… "He might prove useful." They'd masked a sinister calculation all along.

'What a bastard.'

Now it all depended on Hero.

Would he accept the plan?

The young soldier blinked, stunned.

"…What do you mean, make him bleed?"

Scholar shook his head, patient — too patient.

"It's simple. If the monster is tracking us, we only have two options: either abandon the mountain pass and cross the peak instead… or distract it. A bleeding human left behind will draw it off."

He hesitated for dramatic effect.

"Only then can we escape, no matter how it hunts us."

Hero stood frozen, eyes flicking from Scholar to Sunny. Seconds passed. He said nothing.

Then, quietly:

"How can you suggest something so vile?"

Scholar wore a masterful expression of sorrow — a perfect mask.

"Of course it pains me. But if we do nothing, we all die. This way… the boy's death saves two others. The gods will reward him for his sacrifice."

'Gee. What a silver tongue. I'm almost convinced myself.'

Hero opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Hesitating.

Sunny stood in silence, measuring the two men. Scholar was already a dead man walking — weak, sick, too frail to matter. But Hero…

Hero was the real problem.

Right now, that obstacle was looking down, avoiding Sunny's gaze. His hand rested on the sword hilt. As always, the young slave had no idea what was going on inside Hero's perfectly sculpted head.

The uncertainty was nerve-wracking.

Finally, after a long silence, the soldier spoke.

"I have only one question."

Both Sunny and Scholar held their breath.

"Yes?" Scholar asked.

"You said that one of us must be sacrificed to save the other two. Why him?" Hero's voice was calm, but there was a steel edge beneath it. "From what I see, you are far closer to the grave."

'A great question! I was just about to ask it myself.'

Sunny turned to the older slave, trying very hard to suppress a mocking grin.

But to his dismay, Scholar had an answer ready.

"Before the first attack, he was already bleeding from your senior's whip. During the battle, he was drenched in the blood of another slave. Even his cloak — it belonged to someone who died on top of him. The boy already reeks of blood. Keeping him alive will continue to put us in danger. That's why he's the best choice."

The grin died before it reached Sunny's face.

'Curse you and your big brain.'

Scholar's reasoning was cold. Uncomfortably solid. And the worst part? It was true.

Hero listened quietly. But his expression grew darker with each passing word. Finally, he looked at Sunny — a dangerous light glinting in his eyes.

"That is true," he murmured.

Sunny's mouth went dry. A cold sweat ran down his back. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to act — now.

But then, Hero… smiled.

"Your logic is almost unassailable," he said, unsheathing his sword with a soft shing.

"But," he continued, stepping forward, "you failed to account for one thing."

Scholar's eyes narrowed. "What might that be?"

The young soldier turned fully to him. The smile faded from his face, replaced by something utterly still — and utterly lethal. Killing intent radiated from him like a storm on the brink of breaking.

"That I know who you are, Your Grace. I know what you've done. And how you ended up a slave."

His voice was razor-sharp.

"Just one of the revolting crimes you committed would've been enough to make me want to kill you. So if there's someone among us who deserves to be sacrificed…"

He stepped forward, raising the blade.

"…it's you."

Scholar paled.

"But… but the smell of blood!"

Hero didn't flinch.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make you bleed enough to overpower whatever residual scent the boy carries."

It happened so fast Sunny could barely react.

Hero lunged.

In a blur, the flat of the sword slammed into Scholar's leg with a sickening crack. The old slave screamed, crumpling to the ground. Before he could even recover, Hero stomped on the other leg — crunch — and another howl of agony tore through the air.

Just like that, Scholar was finished.

It was brutal. Merciless. A clean execution of decision. Sunny watched in frozen horror, blood turning to ice in his veins.

Hero — graceful, calm, disciplined Hero — was terrifying.

The young soldier gave him a calm look.

"Wait for me here."

Then, without fanfare, he grabbed the broken man by the collar and dragged him back down the path, disappearing behind a jagged outcrop.

For a few minutes, nothing happened.

Then the screams began.

They echoed through the wind, long and terrible, climbing up the slope like banshees on black wings.

Sunny sat there, trembling.

'Crap. This is… this is too much.'

He still couldn't believe how sudden it all was. How fast things had turned — and how ruthless Hero had become.

Some time later, Hero returned.

He looked utterly unfazed, as though nothing at all had happened.

He knelt by Scholar's rucksack, discarded most of the firewood, then slung the pack over one shoulder. Finally, he turned to Sunny and said, in the same even tone as always:

"Let's go. We need to hurry."

Sunny just nodded, unable to find words.

And so they moved on — just the two of them now.

It was strange… but Sunny felt lonely.

Walking on the stone path was easier than the sheer climb had been. His mind, finally freed from the pain of scrambling up that endless slope, began to wander. Oddly enough, a strange melancholy began to settle in his chest.

He glanced up at the thinning clouds. The sky had darkened again.

'The end of this nightmare… whatever it is… it's close now. I can feel it.'

 They walked in silence for some time before Hero spoke.

"Don't feel guilty about what happened. It's not your fault. The decision was

 mine, and mine alone."

The young soldier was a few steps ahead, so Sunny couldn't see his face.

"Besides, if you knew this man's sins… actually, it's better that you don't.

 Just trust me when I say that killing him was an act of justice."

 'I wonder which one of us feels guilty.'

 These people… always trying to rationalize their actions, always desperate

 to maintain an illusion of righteousness even while doing most foul things.

 Sunny hated the hypocrisy.

 Not getting an answer, Hero chuckled.

 "You don't like to talk, do you? Well, fair enough. Silence is gold."

They didn't speak again after that, each preoccupied with their own

 thoughts.

 The sun was setting, painting the world into a million shades of crimson.

 This high up, the air was clean and crisp, pierced by streams of scarlet light.

 Below them, a sea of maroon clouds was slowly rolling past the mountain.

 The stars and the moon had begun to reveal themselves in the vermillion

 sky.

 It was quite beautiful.

 However, Sunny could only think about how cold it was going to be once

 the sun fully disappears.

 Before that happened, Hero had found them a shelter. Not far from the path,

 hidden behind some tall rocks, was a narrow crevice that extended into the

 slope of the mountain. Happy to be safe from the piercing wind, they

 explored the crevice and ended up in a small, well-concealed cave.

 Sunny made a move to unbundle some firewood, but Hero stopped him

 with a shake of his head.

"Today we will camp without making a fire. The beast is too close."

 Camping without the warm flames to keep them company was not going to

 be pleasant, but at least they weren't going to freeze to death inside the

 cave. In any case, the alternative was too frightening.

 Sunny sat down, putting his back against the cave's wall. Hero settled

 opposite of him, looking downcast and thoughtful.

 He was obviously in a strange mood. If nothing else, it was apparent from

 the fact that today, for the first time, the young soldier had failed to care for

 his sword after making camp.

 Soon, the sun was gone, and their small cave became completely dark.

 Sunny, of course, could still see perfectly well; Hero, on the other hand, was

 now completely blind.

 In the darkness, his handsome face looked noble and, for some reason,

 sorrowful. Sunny studied it, not willing to fall asleep.

 After a while, Hero suddenly spoke in a quiet voice:

 "You know, it's strange. Usually, I can feel someone's presence even in

 absolute darkness. But with you, there's nothing. It's like you are just one of

 the shadows."

 With only silence to answer him, he smiled.

 "Are you asleep?"

 The question echoed in the darkness. Sunny, who had never spoken with

 Hero other then that one time ,unless there was an urgent need to, and even then only using a few words at best, felt like there was a strange intimacy between them now.

 That's why he decided to talk. Maybe the darkness gave him courage.

 Besides, there was an occasion.

 "Why? Are you waiting for me to fall asleep before you kill me? Or will

 you do it in the morning?"

The silence after Sunny's question hung in the dark like a blade suspended in air.

Hero didn't answer right away. He shifted slightly, the fabric of his clothes rustling softly as he rested one arm across his knee. Sunny could still see his face: a pale outline, half-lost in shadow, turned slightly toward him, unreadable.

Then Hero spoke.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

His voice was quiet. Not defensive, not angry. Simply a statement.

Sunny snorted.

"That's not an answer."

A pause.

"No. It's not."

They sat in stillness again. Outside, the wind howled across the mountain like some ancient spirit mourning the dead.

Hero looked up at him slowly.

"And what if fate doesn't care about your choices? What if it ends the same way, no matter what path you walk?"

Sunny's eyes didn't waver.

"Then I walk anyway. Not because I'll win, but because walking is mine to do."

He chuckled, suddenly tired. "Maybe that's the only way to spit in the gods' eyes."

A long, stretched silence followed. Wind moaned against the rocks.

Hero stared at him, unmoving. There was something in his expression now — not weakness, not regret… but a crack. A flicker. Something shaken loose.

"Fate," he said softly, as though testing the word. "You speak of it like it's a person. Something to fight."

Sunny shrugged. "Everything's a person if it tries to kill me."

Hero gave a short, mirthless laugh. It echoed strangely in the stone cave, brittle as glass.

"…You're brave."

"No. Just stubborn."

Sunny's lips curled into something like a smirk. Bitter.

"So that's it, then. Not your choice. Just… fate."

Hero raised his head slowly. "We all have roles to play."

"Is that what you think this is? A role?" Sunny scoffed. "You say that like you're an actor on a stage instead of a man with a blade."

Hero's voice was steady. Detached. "I was given a task. One I didn't choose. But it's not for me to question."

"Of course it is," Sunny snapped. "It's always for you to question. That's what makes it your life."

Hero frowned slightly. "You think it's that simple?"

"No," Sunny said. "I think it's hard. Damn near impossible sometimes. But that doesn't make it meaningless. That makes it real."

Hero looked away. The mountain wind howled again.

"There are things bigger than us, boy. Forces that shape the world. You don't understand what I've seen. What I've been told to carry."

Sunny leaned forward.

"And you think that makes you less human? Or more?" He shook his head. "That's the lie. That what you've been given to carry — your mission, your task, your 'fate' — is more real than your will. But it's not."

His voice was quiet, firm.

"You're still the one walking the path. You're the one who chooses where the next step lands. No one else."

Hero was silent.

Sunny went on:

"So what if we're fated to die? So what if it's all predetermined? Meaning isn't in what happens. Meaning is in resisting. It's in standing when the world tells you to kneel."

The soldier was still unmoving, but something flickered behind his eyes. Not belief — but uncertainty. A crack.

Sunny saw it and pressed further.

"If you truly had no choice, you wouldn't be sitting there doubting it."

A silence hung.

Then Hero spoke, slowly. Carefully.

"…You talk like someone who's never had to be responsible for more than his own skin."

Sunny didn't flinch.

"You say that like it's wrong to care whether your life is your own."

Hero finally reached for his sword. The sound of metal brushing stone echoed like a death knell in the dark.

"Even if I wanted to agree… even if part of me did… it's too late now."

He stood, tall and shadowed, sword in hand.

"Some roads, once taken, can't be turned from. I don't get to walk away from this."

Sunny rose too, heart pounding. But his gaze was steady.

"Then it's not fate. It's you."

The soldier looked at him for a moment. And then stepped forward.

 "I don't expect you to forgive me. This sin, too, will be mine to bear. But,

 please, if you can… find it in your heart to understand. If things were

 different, I would have gladly faced that monster to let you escape. But my

 life… does not belong to me alone. There is an unencompassable duty I am

 sworn to fulfill. Until it's done, I cannot allow myself to die."

 Sunny laughed.

 "You people… Look at you! Planning to kill me and still insisting on

 having a good excuse. How very convenient! I really hate hypocrites like

 you the most. Why don't you be honest for once? Don't give me that crap...

 just say it! I'm going to kill you because it's easy. I'm going to kill you

 because I want to survive."

 Hero closed his eyes, his face full of sadness.

 "I'm sorry. I knew you wouldn't be able to understand."

 "You are wrong ,it's because I understand."

 Sunny leaned forward, anger coursing through his veins.

"Tell me. Why do I have to die?"

The young soldier finally looked up. Even though he couldn't see in the dark, he turned his face in the direction of Sunny's voice.

"That man was a villain… but he was also right. The scent of blood is too heavy on you. It will attract the beast."

"You can just let me go, you know. We'll part ways. After that, whether or not the monster finds me won't be your problem."

Hero shook his head.

"Dying in that creature's maw… is too cruel a fate. It's better if I do it myself. You are my responsibility, after all."

"How noble of you."

Sunny leaned back, dejected. After a short while, he quietly said:

"You know… when I just came here, I was ready to die. After all, in this whole world — two worlds, actually — there's not a single soul who cares whether I live or die. When I'm gone, no one will be sad. No one will even remember that I existed."

There was a forlorn look on his face. A moment later, however, it was gone, replaced by mirth.

"But then I changed my mind. Somewhere along the way, I decided to survive. I must survive, no matter what."

Hero gave him a thoughtful look.

"To live a life worth remembering?"

Sunny grinned. A dark gleam appeared in his eyes.

"No. To spite you all."

The young soldier was silent for a few moments, then nodded, accepting

this answer.

"Don't worry. I'll make it quick."

"Aren't you overly confident? What makes you think you'll be able to kill me? Maybe I'll kill you instead."

Hero shook his head.

"I doubt that."

… But in the next second, he staggered and fell on one knee. The young man's face turned deathly pale, and with a pained groan, he suddenly vomited blood.

A satisfied smile appeared on Sunny's face.

"Finally."

Hero was standing on his knees, the lower part of his face covered in blood. Astonished, he was staring at his hands, trying to understand what had happened to him.

"What… what magic is this?"

With wide eyes and a pale face, he turned to Sunny.

"Was… was that thief right? Did you put the curse of the Shadow God on us?"

Sunny sighed.

"I wish that I had the ability to throw divine curses around, but no. To tell you the truth, I don't have any abilities at all."

"Then… how?"

The young slave shrugged.

"That's why I poisoned you all."

Hero flinched, trying to comprehend his words.

"What?"

"After the tyrant first attacked, you sent me to search for water. While gathering flagons from the dead soldiers, I squeezed Bloodbane juice into each one — except my own, of course. Not enough to taste it, but enough to slowly kill anyone who would drink from them."

The soldier gritted his teeth, struggling through pain. A sudden realization appeared on his face.

"So that's why… the other two were in such bad shape."

Sunny nodded.

"Shifty drank the most, so his condition worsened the fastest. Scholar was also not long for this world, but you finished him off before the poison could. Yourself, however… it was as though Bloodbane had no effect on you at all. I was really starting to get worried."

Hero's face darkened.

"I see… I understand."

He thought about something, then looked at Sunny with surprise.

"But… but back then you didn't know… that we would turn on you."

Sunny just laughed.

"Oh, please. It was obvious. Shifty was the kind of man who would kill for a pair of boots. Scholar was like a wolf in sheep's clothing. People are selfish and cruel in the best of situations — was I supposed to believe that those two weren't going to do something terrible to me when faced with certain death?"

Hero spat more blood.

"Then… what about me?"

"You?" A disdainful expression appeared on Sunny's face. "You are the worst of them."

"Why?"

Sunny looked at him and leaned forward.

"I might not have learned much in my short life, but I do know one thing," he said, all traces of humor gone from his voice.

Now there was only cold, callous contempt. Sunny's face hardened as he spat:

"There is nothing more pathetic than a slave who begins to trust his slaver."

 Hearing these words, Hero lowered his head.

 "I see."

 Then, suddenly, he laughed.

 "You… you are a wicked little shit, aren't you?"

 Sunny rolled his eyes.

 "There's no need to be rude."

 But Hero wasn't listening to him.

 "Good. This is good. My conscience will be clearer."

 The young slave sighed in irritation.

"What are you mumbling about? Just die already."

 Hero chuckled and suddenly pierced him with a stare. Somehow, he didn't

 look so sick anymore.

 "You see, that plan would have worked if I was a normal human. But, alas,

 my Soul Core has Awakened long ago. I've slain countless enemies and

 absorbed their power. Bloodbane poison, unpleasant as it might be, can

 never kill me."

 'Crap!'

 Sunny turned around and tried to run away, but it was already too late.

 Something hit him in the back, sending his body crashing into the rock wall.

 With a scream, he felt a sharp pain piercing his left side. Rolling out of the

 cave, Sunny clutched his chest, scrambled back onto his feet and ran, trying

 to escape the narrow crevice.

 He managed to reach the old path, finally being able to see the stars and the

 pale moon shining brightly in the night sky. But it was as far as he was able

 to get.

 "Stop."

 As the cold voice sounded behind him, Sunny froze. If Hero really had an

 Awakened Soul Core, he had no chances of getting away from him. In a

 fight, he had no chances at all.

 "Turn around."

 The young slave obediently turned, holding his hands up. He looked at

 Hero, who was wiping the blood off his face with a displeased look in his

 eyes. The two of them stared at each other, shivering in the murderous cold.

 "Was it worth it? No matter. Despite it all, I will be true to my promise. I'll

 make it quick."

 The soldier unsheathed his sword.

"Do you have any last words?"

 Sunny did not answer.

 However, a small silver bell suddenly appeared in his hand.

 Hero frowned.

 "Where were you hiding that thing?"

 Sunny shook the bell. A beautiful, clear ringing sound flowed over the

 mountain, filling the night with an enchanting melody.

 "What are you doing?! Stop!"

 The young slave dutifully stopped.

 "What was…"

 Right under Hero's bewildered eyes, the silver bell disappeared into thin air.

 He looked at Sunny, stumped and suspicious.

 "Tell me! What did you just do?"

 But Sunny didn't answer. In fact, he hadn't said a single word ever since

 escaping the cave. Right now, he wasn't even breathing.

 Hero, on the other hand, continued to speak.

 "Tell me right now or you will regret it."

 He scowled.

 "Why are you not saying anything?"

 The shivering boy just stared at him, completely silent.

 No… he was staring into the darkness behind him.

Hero's eyes widened.

 "What…"

 Sunny had no choice but to resort to one last, desperate gamble.

 He had no chance against the enemy in a direct confrontation, at least not

 without an advantage. Bloodbane poison was supposed to be his hidden

 card, but turned out to be nearly useless. Being able to see in the dark did

 not help that much, too: somehow, Hero was able to perceive their

 surroundings even without any light.

 Whether he was using his sense of hearing or some magical ability, Sunny

 did not know — not that it mattered now that they had left the cave and

 were standing under the moonlit sky.

 Now he had only one advantage left. The fact that he knew that the tyrant

 was blind, and Hero did not. Acting on that knowledge, however, was easier

 said than done.

 But what else could he do?

 That's why he tried to stay as quiet as possible and rang the silver bell. If the

 description did not lie, its ringing could be heard from miles away. Surely,

 the tyrant was going to hear it, too.

 Now Sunny only had to stay silent, stall for time and hope that the monster

 would come. As he did so, Hero's bewilderment slowly turned into anger.

 "Tell me right now or you will regret it."

 His voice was quite threatening, but still, the young slave did not answer.

 He just shivered in the cold and tried not to moan despite the pulsing pain in

 his chest.

"Why are you not answering?"

 But Sunny did not dare to answer. He held his breath and watched,

 horrified, as the familiar colossal figure appeared behind Hero. His lungs

 were on fire, and his heart was beating like crazy. It was beating so loud

 that he was even afraid that the blind tyrant would hear it.

 But, of course, it couldn't be louder than Hero's voice, who was still talking,

 turning himself into the only source of noise on this mountain.

 At the last second, a hint of understanding appeared in the young soldier's

 eyes. He began to turn around, his sword rising with lightning speed.

 But it was too late.

 A massive hand appeared from the darkness and caught him into an iron

 grip. The bone claws scraped against the armor, pulling it apart. Mountain

 King dragged Hero back, paying little attention to the sword biting into its

 wrist. Viscous saliva was streaming from its opened maw.

 Petrified by fear, Sunny slowly turned his back to them and took a couple of

 steps up the old, winding path. Then he darted away, running as fast as he

 could.

 Behind him, a desperate scream tore apart the silent night. Then a hungry

 roar followed. It seemed that Hero wasn't going down without a fight, even

 though his fate was already sealed.

 But Sunny didn't care. He was running away, climbing higher and higher.

 "I'm sorry, Hero," he thought. "I did say that I will watch you die… but, as

 you know, I am a liar. So go and die on your own…"