Chương 86: Chapter 83: What Lurks in the Dark

It was usually snowy in Karmel Valley during winter, but this year there had hardly been any proper snowfall. If only that had made the weather a little warmer. No, the wind was still bone-chilling, biting through the thick clothes, harassing us throughout our ascent. Without the white covering, the climb was at least easier. I peered towards the mountains ahead, spread like an uneven array of waves, with mist drifting about.

The ones closer, with flattened peaks, were darker, giving way to lighter blue and white cliffs in the backdrop. With the billowing mist and the clouds hovering above, they almost blurred the horizon completely, if not for the sun still clinging behind the shifting cover, its radiance flickering in a dying hue of gold and scarlet. The taller peaks on the southern side of the Candor Mountains forever held white cliffs, frozen with thick layers of ice, from which rivers wound their way into civilisation.

One such river, namely Ireion, remained unfrozen for most of winter, snaking down Karmel, but once it covered a few hundred miles eastwards, it changed its name to Kireon, joining one of its sisters along the path. Father's pitifully small figure stood at a vantage point near the banks of Ireion, watching both Eran and me scaling the rugged mountain. We had both sufficient mastery and physicality to trample the mountain without fear, yet he still liked to oversee us.

Father said it was to make sure we weren't cheating, but we all knew it was because he worried for us and didn't want any mishap to occur. Unlike Mum, who would stop me from making a blunder, Father would let it happen and only intervene to bail me out when it was unsafe. Letting me fight opponents far stronger than myself without any proper protection was one such example. If only that had led to—"Arilyn?" Eran's voice came from right above me.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, watching the mist drift from my lips. He was craning his neck to look towards me, his body pressed against the jagged rock we were scaling.

"I asked your opinion of me buying those essence tonics from Priam. I already have two. Do you think acquiring more will be... detrimental?"

"Not really," I said.

"So long as you maintain a good buffer time between ingestion, and put your body through even half of your usual training, you'll be fine. Your only worry should be the diminishing return." Unironically, I believed there wouldn't be any demerits even if he drank two vials this instant. Eran's body had gone through ample rigorous training and forging to avoid the dregs.

But I was not medically qualified to make that judgment, not to mention my friend's trust in me sufficient enough that he might even follow through with it if I said it out loud once.

"I'm surprised that Priam wants to sell them, to be honest."

"Well, he said they're of no use to him." True, Priam had probably taken no fewer than a dozen tonics over the seasons.

"And," Eran exhaled deeply, the mist threading about, "he feels sparring with me is not challenging."

"Did he now?" I rose to climb alongside him. There were only a few hundred metres left for us to reach the summit.

"So what sum did he ask for?"

"Six gold Leafs for both of his vials." That price wasn't particularly high. Priam wasn't being a prick there. A high-quality essence tonic like that could go for up to a hundred silver or five gold Leafs on the market. They were not difficult to make, as far as I knew. The problem lay in collecting the ingredients. The alchemist guilds who made them kept their sources to themselves.

"Not too steep a price. I reckon you won't get it any cheaper from any of our classmates either." Eran made a noncommittal hum. Although six gold Leafs hardly sounded like much to me, it was well over a couple of months' income for the stone-cutters. Even so, I was certain that if Eran told his family about it, his parents would spare some of their savings to purchase him the tonics. Yet Eran was telling me this probably meant he hadn't said anything to his parents yet. He never did.

I managed to keep the sigh from escaping.

"Working odd jobs around the town over the past year, I've barely managed to save up 36 silver Leafs. That's not even enough for a single vial." I paused in my climb, watching his figure ascend through the foggy atmosphere. The wind was brisk and chillingly fresh. It hindered more than just our breathing, though it could only slow us down.

"You know, I can lend you some money," I said, catching up with him. The stormguard set was nearly complete, needing only a bit of finishing touch before delivery. Whilst I hadn't discussed the discount with the Octaviuses, I would still be a couple of hundred gold Leafs richer by the end. Giving away a bit of it felt like nothing to me. The problem was that Eran was too honest to take my money. It didn't help that his parents were just as honest, and had managed to drill the same qualities into him.

Such a character was rare even among knights. Then again, even I wouldn't borrow money from others, mostly because Mum had it all covered and never let me feel any lack of it. Thinking on it, perhaps I had been a little wasteful over the years with all my projects and experiments. But Eran was my closest friend, and the time we'd spent together almost made him family. It felt wrong to leave family out when I had so much to spare.

Looking at the conflict warring in his expression, I continued, "Think of it as a loan."

"But it would take me years to pay you back," he said, resting on a side cliff.

"Your math is wrong," I chuckled, trying to ease his concerns.

"Once you advance to Noble Class, six gold Leafs will be nothing but pocket change." Well, that was stretching it a little. But considering even a fresh recruit at a moderately sized guild had a monthly wage of no less than ten gold Leafs before various other additions, I wasn't completely blowing it out of proportion. Admittedly, Eran wasn't inclined towards joining a guild. His goal was always to become a knight. He probably didn't have a clue how to go about it, but he still had some time to spare.

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"I hear even the conscripted are paid handsomely in the legionary," Eran said.

"Guess you're right." I froze mid-climb. How in the blighted hell did I forget about his conscription? The solstice was a couple of days away, and if nothing went amiss, the legionary would come to town in about a month and take away all the eligible candidates. Eran's issues with his weave probably wouldn't exempt him from conscription. For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined spending my days once he was taken away.

I did spend an abnormal amount of time lost in study or in crafting, but the practice with him—and even the simple games we played together—provided the most valuable and needed respite. If he went away, I'd perhaps—"You're not hearing me again," Eran said with a snort, before scaling up to the top of the cliff. He remained cowered by the cold rocky surface, minimising the effect of the turbulent squalls present up there.

Here, my friend would be taken away from the only home he knew and would be put through various trials and tests, and I was thinking about myself. A deep shame rose in my heart, lighting my face. I scrunched my nose and made the climb.

"You were saying something about the legionary," I shouted, most of the loudness still lost in the quaking wind.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Nothing much," Eran shouted back, giving me a look. After a little consideration, I enabled the artifact on my wrist. With flickering golden lights, a barrier formed, wrapping us both in to protect us from the turbulence.

"I talked with Aleya a little," Eran said, his eyes tracing over the runes and the essence threads visible in the barrier.

"Says the legion is just in their practice and giving rewards. The essence tonics and training she received there would take a fortune even for her father to accommodate. And the rewards aren't limited to low-grade essence tonics, either." Certainly not. The Awakened were a resource in themselves. The more the empire strengthened them, the greater they would strengthen the empire. Not to mention the loyalty it would foster amongst the young Awakened.

For Eran to even have a chance of squire under a true knight, he had to reach Noble Class first. And then there were various tests and trials, not to mention the unpredictability of it all. It wasn't completely unthinkable, however. There had always been knights from common origins. Delric had been one such example, having the same earnest desire as Eran. Unfortunately, he had to give up. However, as Eran was right now, there probably weren't many knights who would take a gamble on him.

When they took squires, they measured not only skill but the potential of their gifts as well.

"So, are you going to take my money or not?" Eran breathed, almost a sigh.

"Let's talk after I've absorbed the two I have." I gazed at the horizon. The sun dipped below the summits, the dying golden-red rays further silenced by the unkind wind and the cascading mist. Today had been a rare break from the incessant sparring sessions. Father thought it would help to distance myself from the sword for a time; said, the rest would help digest the lessons better. He insisted it had nothing to do with Mum catching us red-handed in our unhealthy practice.

Even after all the gruesome sparring with augmenters, without the protection of my artifact, I still hadn't quite entered the realm of true swordsmanship. Not only that, I had been thoroughly berated by Mum. At least my combat experience had grown richer. I could feel the wall separating me from grasping the elusive sword sense, and a way through it. Father's silhouette appeared behind us, his cloak billowing incessantly.

"You two thinking of spending the night here?" His voice was muted by the barrier, until I retracted the protection.

"Hurry up, or your Mum will have my ears again if it's all dark when we return." I stood straighter, supporting myself, clinging onto Eran's back. Stretching my tired limbs, I eyed the path stretched before us. It wasn't quite visible in the looming obstruction, but if I were to use my levitation boots, I was confident of reaching home before sundown—even while carrying Eran on my back.

"Father," I asked, "how old were you when you reached the state of True Swordsman?" Father gave me a look.

"I was, of course, much older than you. I think it was in my mid-twenties— Well, a little less than fifteen in the imperial calendar, when I fully mastered the ability." I nodded, thinking that I still had a lot of time to grasp the ability. Then again, Father had awakened late, and nor had he a Master Swordsman to teach him.

"It took me about a couple of years from the first time I sensed the lines of trajectory," he continued, patting my shoulder.

"Don't feel disheartened just because you couldn't grasp an ability that takes years to master." I nodded.

"Perhaps I'll learn something during the interdistrict meet." Father sighed, leading us down towards the slanted foothills.

"It was my fault, building up your expectations like this. Remember, while it does take only a moment of enlightenment to break through, that comes after years of cumulative experience and understanding." We climbed down in companionable silence until Eran's voice cut through the yowling wind.

"Look on the bright side... While boys your age will be going through their awakening ceremony in a couple of days, you almost made it to Noble class." I tilted my head towards him.

"Ha, that actually made me feel much better." If I had waited for the ceremony, none of this would have been possible, would it? Besides, my accomplishment did not rest only at the precipice of the Noble class, either.

"Well, if not a Swordsman," I said, grinning at the back of Father, "I'll be a Journeyman Artisan soon." Father turned his head, as I intended, and snorted. I was about to ask about their wager when a shrill cry broke through the cruel wind.

"What was that?" I asked, eyeing the direction it came from, before turning my head towards Father. His palm immediately rested upon the pommel of his blade, eyes drawn towards the gloom.

"Doesn't sound like a wolf," Eran added.

"Or from very far." No sooner had he finished, a white, lupine silhouette tumbled through the dismal obscurity to land a few dozen paces away from our vantage point. It looked like a wolfish creature, but on second glance, I wasn't so sure.

"It's a..." Father faltered, hurrying to take a look. We followed closely. The creature was slightly larger than a fully grown wolf, its fur snowy white, with a head full of curly mane akin to a brilliant flame of red and gold running from its head to almost the midway point of its spine. However, what caught my attention was the gaping wound on its rear, claw marks all over, pieces of flesh missing from its hind leg, its pristine white fur stained with red-hot blood, steam rising from it.

"It's a Komainu," Father said with astonishment.

"I didn't think there were any left in this world."

"Komainu?" I repeated, having no memory of such a creature in the encyclopaedias I had read.

"Think of it like a guardian spiritual animal," Father said.

"I'd only ever seen statues of them, but looking at them now, they do resemble a lion more than a dog." Lion? I knew what they looked like, although they were supposedly extinct for ages. Well, this Komainu had a mane that resembled that of a lion, albeit unlike the forgotten king of the jungle, it was writhing pitifully on the cold earth. Its fiery tail whipping about wasn't making the wound on its hind leg any better. Father crouched down beside the creature and inspected it thoroughly.

The Komainu growled, a wry, pitiable cry. It tried to stand up. Father ran his palm softly over its mane, nuzzling it slowly. Something in the manner eased it.

"Easy, easy," he said, before turning towards us.

"According to legend, a Komainu is a guardian spirit, like a temple dog of sorts. It wards off evil and creatures of demonic nature."

"What are those claw marks from?" Eran asked the question which was gnawing at my throat. Father didn't answer, but we did not have to wait long to find out. Shrill cries and horrifying screeches echoed from ahead as a horrid gloom spilled over us. A chill ran down my spine, before my eyes could even track, the first of the creatures breaking through the sombre wilderness. It was humanoid, with a maw filled with jagged teeth and opened too wide to resemble anything humane.

Its screeching was like a mash between a wild beast's roar and a high-pitched whistle that, while not splitting our eardrums, invoked a feeling of dread so deep that I froze in place. Then there was its hideous, grotesque exterior, disproportional in some places. It stood over six feet, arms clawed, with blue and black bulging veins running across its ghastly form.

"Devourers," I cried, my heart leaping out of my chest. It was the same creature that I fought in my last nightmare. More of its kind, already accompanying it in the cries, broke out from the dark side of the wilderness. There were at least twenty of those sun-cursed creatures, each more menacing than the others. They prowled forward in maddening glee, catching sight of us.