Xin occupied one of them, his posture relaxed but alert, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he leaned back, the creak of the chair barely audible over the distant howl of wind battering the mountain's exterior.
He studied the faces around him, each etched with resolve, weariness, or a mix of both. Shun stood at the circle's edge, his presence commanding despite the simplicity of his attire—a worn leather tunic and a cloak frayed at the hem. His Silver horns, caught the flickering light from the crystal dome above, giving it the appearance of smoldering fire. Xin's thoughts churned, piecing together the implications of Shun's words.
So they've finally decided to move… The realization settled like a stone in his chest. It explained the recent changes he'd noticed: the relentless increase in training intensity, the sudden swell of volunteers stepping forward to join the ranks, the drills that had grown sharper, more disciplined, as if the summit itself were bracing for something inevitable.
His gaze flicked to Shun, whose dark eyes met his with unwavering intensity. "Do you really think we're ready?" Xin asked, his voice low but carrying in the stillness.
Shun didn't hesitate. "We've been preparing for months now. Each of us has pushed our limits. We are ready."
A ripple of agreement passed through the council. Lira, her glinting like polished bronze in the crystal light, gave a curt grunt of approval. Toren, lean and sharp-eyed, crossed his arms with a firm expression that spoke of unshakable confidence. Even Raven, the enigmatic figure clad in dark, rune-etched armor, offered the faintest of nods—a gesture so subtle it might have gone unnoticed by anyone not watching closely. From Raven, it was as good as a shout of support.
Xin felt the truth in Shun's words resonate within him. He had seen it in the soldiers he trained, their movements growing swifter, their strikes more precise. His own abilities had sharpened too. His EMR, had reached new heights. With every monster felled, the resonance within a soldier would surge, amplifying their strength, speed, and endurance in battle. Most of the summit's fighters were now saturated, their potential stretched to its current limits. Xin could feel it in their aura, a steady hum of power that vibrated through the air like a taut bowstring. If they lingered here, in the safety of the summit, that energy would stagnate, dulling their edge. The thought made his stomach twist, though he couldn't pinpoint why.
His eyes drifted from the council to the crowd below, perched on raised platforms or leaning against the jagged crystal edges of the chamber. Dozens of faces stared back—soldiers with scars crisscrossing their arms, tacticians clutching worn notebooks, cooks with flour-dusted aprons, scouts with eyes sharp as knives. Volunteers. Survivors. They were the lifeblood of the summit, a community forged from desperation and defiance. Shun's transparency was one of his greatest strengths; he harbored no taste for backroom politics or whispered orders. If a decision would shape the summit's fate, every soul within its walls deserved to witness it.
Xin respected that. It was why he trusted Shun, even when doubt gnawed at him.
He turned back to the council leader, his voice steady but pointed. "Where is the second stage exactly? I assume you've found it."
Shun gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. With a wave of his hand, he signaled to the shadows at the edge of the stump. A young boy, no older than twelve, stepped forward, his thin frame swallowed by a patched cloak. In his hands, he carried a crude map inked on thick parchment, its edges curling from use. The boy knelt, spreading the map across the ground at the circle's center. The council leaned forward, their silhouettes stark against the glowing crystal backdrop.
"It's buried deep in the mountain," Shun said, crouching to tap a jagged symbol etched in charcoal near the map's base. "There's a cavern system here, winding beneath the western ridges. One of our scout teams found two large mana signatures. The first one…" He paused, his finger lingering on the map. "We're certain it's the gateway."
Xin's eyes narrowed. "And the second?"
Shun's jaw tightened, a flicker of unease breaking his composure. "We're not sure."
The room seemed to hold its breath. The soft hum of the crystals above felt louder, oppressive.
"One of our scouts, Amari was tailing the second signal when her transmission cut off," Shun continued, his voice quieter now. "Before we lost contact, she mentioned ruins. Ancient structures. Stone arches and runes we've never seen before." He straightened, his gaze sweeping the council. "That was three weeks ago. We haven't heard from her since."
Lira's brows knit together, her voice sharp with concern. "Do we know if she's alive?"
Shun shook his head, the motion heavy. "We don't know anything. But the ether she was tracking hasn't moved. Whatever it is, it's still there. Dormant, maybe."
Toren leaned forward, his gloved finger tapping the map with a soft thud. "Two entities, both deep within the same mountain system? If one's the gateway, the other might be its guardian. Or A trap."
The beast man, a towering figure with fur-tufted ears and eyes like burning coals, rumbled from his seat. His voice was like gravel grinding underfoot. "If Amari vanished, others will too. We can't afford to lose more."
Shun raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the crowd. "I understand the risks. That's why I called this meeting."
He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate as he began to pace along the edge of the crystalline stump. The light from the dome caught his horns again, making it gleam like a blade. His hands clasped behind his back, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of someone who had seen too much but refused to break.
"I've been the one to ask all of you to push harder. To protect more. And you did. You helped me build this place from ash and bone into something real. Something sacred." He paused, turning to face the council, his eyes burning with quiet intensity. "And now… we stand on the edge again."
He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the circle before settling on the crowd below. "I brought you all here to ask a single question: Do we have the strength to enter the second stage with the resources we have?"
A long silence followed, broken only by the faint flicker of the crystal dome and the distant wail of the mountain's wind. The weight of the question hung in the air, heavy as the stone walls around them.
Lira broke the silence first, her voice steady. "I believe we do. Our defenses will hold here without me for a while. I've trained the second-line coordinators to manage Primes. I can lead a squad into the mountain—ten fighters, maybe twelve, to keep it tight."
Toren nodded, his sharp features softening with determination. "My duelists are ready. Give me fifteen, and I'll carve a path through whatever's waiting down there."
The beast man folded his massive arms, his claws glinting in the light. "I'll stay. Someone has to maintain the summit's walls and forges. But I can spare builders and crafters for siege support. Two days of prep, and we'll have transport wagons and supply caches ready."
The cook, a wiry woman with calloused hands and a face lined from years of squinting into fires, spoke next. "If we ration well and limit warm meals to every other day, we can sustain a warband for at least three weeks in there. I'll start prepping dried rations tonight."
Xin's gaze moved across the council, noting the conviction in their voices. They weren't posturing or vying for favor. They meant every word, their commitment forged in the crucible of countless battles and sacrifices.
Raven, who had been silent until now, tilted his helm slightly, the movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible. His voice, low and resonant, echoed from within his armor. "Then I will guard the summit."
The council turned toward him, surprised. Shun's brow furrowed. "You're not coming?"
"I will stand here," Raven said, his tone unyielding yet calm. "Until you return."
It wasn't refusal. It was a vow, as solid as the mountain itself.
Xin inhaled deeply, the air cool and sharp in his lungs. The thought of venturing into the mountain's depths stirred something uneasy in his gut—a flicker of instinct warning him of danger. But beneath it, he felt something else, a pull like a half-remembered melody, urging him forward. The ruins Amari had described, the runes and arches, called to him in a way he couldn't explain. He needed to see them, to understand what lay hidden in the mountain's heart.
"I'm in," he said at last, his voice steady. "But I want to be on the team that finds out what happened to Amari. And if the ruins are real… I need to see them for myself."
Shun gave a solemn nod, his Horns catching the light one final time as he turned to address the crowd. "Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice ringing clear in the chamber. "We move within the week."