Chương 67: Chapter 66

Veyl sits on a jut of stone, arms crossed and face twisted in a sneer. The battered ground where the Casting Monkey fell is already silent, but Veyl's mind churns with new plans and old grudges. He watches Jacob and Felisia as they stride off toward the summit, their steps too easy for his liking. His lips curl in derision.

"They really think they're just going to run for the top after that? That idiot's lost it." He spits into the dust, lightning still crackling in his hair.

"Let them go, let them break themselves against whatever monster comes next. They don't understand what's waiting up there. After that monkey, the next one's going to be a real killer. This is the end of the road for those two." Adrienne wipes sweat from her forehead, glaring after Jacob and Felisia. She stands with her arms at her side, breathing deeply. She isn't ready to move, but she doesn't let her guard down around Veyl.

"Are you sure about this?" she says, her tone cold and doubting.

"We're just going to let them go? If they reach the throne first, that's it for us. No chance to catch up." Veyl scoffs, shaking his head." Woman, you saw what happened in the last fight. They barely did anything. That peasant's got tricks, but he's burned. They've been coasting on dumb luck. The next monster's going to eat them alive. We'll pass them on the way up, step over their corpses, and take the victory like we should've from the start.

The next monster is going to be level two-hundred if the patterns keeps. Right on the cusp of Platinum Rank. What do you think they could do alone?" Adrienne's eyes narrow. She looks at him for a long moment, searching for any hint of reason.

"I don't trust your judgment," she says quietly.

"If you want to play games, fine, but you'd better be ready to follow my lead if we hear anything weird." Veyl barks out a laugh, then leans closer, lowering his voice to a mocking hiss.

"You think I'll listen to you? You got outclassed by your own sister and some dirt miner. Your plan's not worth a damn. I don't need a lecture from a spoiled girl who never had to work for anything." Adrienne's mouth opens, but she snaps it shut. She bites back a retort, turns away, and starts picking up her gear in silence. She doesn't trust Veyl's arrogance, and now, for the first time, the gulf between them grows wider than ever.

She knows that if they stumble here, it will be because Veyl refused to see the truth. Veyl watches her, eyes glinting. He can see the frustration in her clenched fists, and it fuels his contempt.

"Run after the peasant if you want, Adrienne. I'll recoup my mana and kill the next monster myself if you need me to." * Farther up the slope, Felisia and I walk side by side, picking our way through thick underbrush. The trail winds up toward the final plateau. Clouds scud low overhead, and the mountain air stings my skin. Felisia glances at me, worry etched deep across her brow. She tugs my sleeve, voice low.

"Jacob, how are we going to kill that beast? There are only two of us now, and you saw what that monkey could do. If Veyl's right, the last monster is going to be something from a nightmare." I shoot her a lopsided grin, doing my best to sound relaxed and supremely confident.

"We're not going to kill it. I'm going to kill it. You're going to run for the top while I handle the dirty work. That's the master plan." She stares, eyes wide, lips parting in disbelief.

"You're kidding. You really think you can fight off whatever's waiting up there alone? You're gonna die!" I stop, turn to face her, and plant my feet.

"I've got a secret weapon, Felisia. You've seen me pull off crazier stuff before. I've maxed out almost every Skill I have except Dark Blade and Infernal Wings of Ash—and two that I don't like. I'm finally Gold Rank. I've got tricks left, stamina to burn, and more importantly, I've got a great plan. You're faster than you think, and you've grown a lot since we started. I know you can make the final dash." Felisia looks unconvinced, her hands clenching at her sides.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"You're talking like this is a sure thing, but we don't even know what we're facing. What if it's something like that Drake, but twice as strong?" I wink.

"I've planned for everything." She smacks my shoulder, not hard, but with real exasperation.

"You're insane, Jacob. Completely insane." I step closer, lowering my voice.

"Listen. No plan survives the first punch, but I'll make the opening you need. If anything looks bad, you run. No hesitation. I'll handle the rest. Trust me." She hesitates, then nods, a shaky laugh escaping her lips.

"Fine. You'd better not die, or I'll kill you myself." * High above, the noble gallery leans forward, breath held. They are no longer jeering or scoffing. Fear lines their faces, even among the most battle-hardened. One nobleman mutters, "What are those two thinking? They're not even pausing to recover. They're throwing their lives away." A lady with a diamond pendant clutches her chest.

"Felisia's got talent, but the only way they survive is a miracle. Lord Clearwater, can't you stop this?" Lord Clearwater, his face grim, presses his hands together. For the first time, his voice betrays anxiety.

"This is the rule of the trial. They have to face it themselves. I wish—" He shakes his head, not finishing the thought. Others watch in tense silence, unable to look away as Jacob and Felisia press on. * I take a quick stock of my status as we cross a crumbling ridge. The Grimoire's virtual pages flicker before my eyes. Infernal Architect—Class Level 102, just barely into Gold Rank, but with stats that would make a proper knight green with envy.

Hell's Sword, Fire Slash, Fire Armor, Fire Walk, and Fire Shield—every one maxed. Meditation? Maxed. Dark Lattice? Almost maxed. Only two Skills lag behind: Dark Blade, still climbing, and Infernal Wings of Ash, stubbornly stuck below level ninety. Even so, I feel the strength coiled in my veins. My mana runs deep now, the channels tighter and more efficient than ever. I glance back at Felisia, checking her stance, her breathing. She's tense, but ready. I draw a long, slow breath. My nerves tingle, my senses sharp.

The top of the mountain rises above us, and the next threat waits, coiled in shadow. A rumble shakes the air. I squint ahead. A patch of brambles and loose stone explodes outward. The ground splits. A massive serpent, scales like burnished gold and eyes like twin suns, rises above the path. Its tongue flicks, testing the air, and wings spread from its back, feathered with gleaming silver. The System prompt flashes.

[Heavenly Snake Lord — Level 200] The air crackles with raw magic, the pressure making every bone in my body ache. Felisia stiffens. I plant my feet and shout over the roar, "I'm making the opening. When I do, you run. Don't look back." She nods, her lips white. The Heavenly Snake Lord coils, muscles bunched, ready to strike. Its jaws part, showing rows of razor teeth. I call on Infernal Wings of Ash and Veins of Fire. Hell's Sword gleams in my fist.

Mana surges, Dark Blade's weight burning through my arm as I summon it in my other hand. I draw a deep breath, center myself, and then I dash forward. The monster lunges. I sidestep, letting its teeth snap shut on empty air. I drive Hell's Sword into its scales, but then it just bounces off. The Snake Lord swings its tail in a wide arc. I leap, Infernal Wings carrying me high, and slam down on its neck with Dark Blade. That's not much damage at all, I think, looking at the bleeding gash.

The monster shrieks, rearing up, blinded with rage. I carve a line of fire along its side, and, as it writhes, I bellow, "Now, Felisia! Go!" Felisia darts past, her feet a blur as she sprints for the throne path. The Snake Lord snaps at her, but I throw a Fire Slash conjured out of Dark Blade between them. Its jaws close on the fire and recoil, scales blackened. Felisia disappears around a bend, her shape vanishing into the mist. The Snake Lord roars, the mountainside shaking. I square up, breath coming fast.

My hands grip the hilt of Hell's Sword and Dark Blade, and I brace for its next assault. * Back on the cliff, every noble leans so far forward some nearly tumble from their seats. Their eyes are wide, mouths open in horrified anticipation.

"He said he had a master plan," one gasps.

"Is this it? He's just fighting it head-on?"

"I don't see anything clever. He's going to get torn apart!" Lord Clearwater stands, white-knuckled.

"Come on, Cloud. Don't let it end like this." Sir Renquell's eyes glitter, but even he seems tense. * In my head, King Baalrek's deep voice rumbles, dry as old embers. Kid, you said you had a master plan. You want to tell me what it is now, or are you just going to get eaten and make me look like a fool? I cough, ducking the Snake Lord's tail, flames licking up my arms. My master plan is you, Baalrek. A beat of silence, then King Baalrek snorts. What do you mean by that?

I launch myself off the monster's scales, flipping over its head. I mean, unless you've got pointers, a forbidden move, some crazy Skill only ancient Infernals know, I'm dead. That's the master plan. If you don't bail me out, I'm toast. I'm trusting you not to let your investment die here. The Snake Lord surges at me. I ready my blade and leap, heart pounding, trusting that King Baalrek—and everything I've learned—will be enough.