Hooves thundered across the black shore as Erik and the rest of the team galloped at full speed, following the massive footprints left in the sand. Each one was a crater, a reminder of the scale of the thing they pursued.
"Veinar!" Yosul called over the wind.
The mage lifted a gloved hand. From his palm, a glowing spirit bird formed—its feathers made of light and flickering mana. With a silent flap, it soared high into the sky.
"You see anything?" Yosul asked, keeping pace beside him.
"Not yet…" Veinar's eyes glazed slightly as he shared the bird's vision. A moment later, his brows furrowed. "Captain, I see something—it's… it's the Mountain God!"
Yosul blinked. "The Mountain God?"
"Yeah, but it looks smaller than usual. And its fur—ash grey, not white!"
Erik, unfamiliar with the term, leaned toward Leena as they rode side by side. "What's a Mountain God?"
"It's a giant," she said calmly. "A huge, furry one. Lives between two mountains near Velhein. Said to protect the city when it's in danger."
"…Could it be here?"
"No. If it were, we'd see him clearly even from miles away. This must be a different one."
Before Erik could ask more, Veinar shouted again from behind. "I see the temple! It's on the giant's nape—like... it's growing out of him!"
"What in the gods' names…" Yosul muttered, eyes narrowing as the team crested a dune and the creature finally came into view.
A towering form, ash-furred and massive as the cliffs beside it, walked with a slow, deliberate pace. Its body was vaguely humanoid—broad-shouldered, hunched, arms hanging long with thick fingers that dragged furrows in the sand when it walked. And there, fused to the nape of its neck, stood the temple—ancient stone half-sunk into the beast's fur, as if it had been growing out of its body for centuries.
The team stared in stunned silence.
"That… that thing's carrying the temple?" one of the swordsmen whispered.
"What do we do now, Captain?" another asked.
Yosul didn't answer at first. His gaze stayed locked on the creature, eyes sharp, thinking, calculating.
Then he turned toward Erik.
"Erik. The relic we're looking for—it should look like a green diamond shaped and like a crescent moon. Got it?"
"Uh… okay," Erik replied, confused.
"We're sending you up there to get it."
"…What?"
"You'll get close, climb into the temple, find the relic. We'll draw the thing's attention and keep it busy."
Erik blinked, still trying to process what he was hearing. "And how exactly am I supposed to get up there?"
"Master!" Yosul called, already turning his horse toward the old man with the axe.
Master?
The old man stepped down from his horse and rolled his shoulders.
"Off the horse, kid," he said, jerking his chin toward Erik.
Erik dismounted, jogging to match the old man's pace. The veteran warrior unslung his axe and extended it sideways.
"Grab the knob," he said.
At the top of the axe shaft was a round metal cap, perfectly smooth. Erik hesitated—then grasped it with both hands.
"Hold tight."
With a grunt, the old man spun the axe once. Twice.
And then launched Erik skyward like a bolt from a catapult.
"What the fu—!"
The wind tore past Erik's face as he rocketed through the air, soaring above the canyon floor. His limbs flailed before instinct kicked in—he twisted his body midair, correcting his posture. The temple rushed toward him, impossibly fast.
Just before impact, Erik reached out—his fingers scraped stone, then caught hold of the carved edge of the temple's roof. His body slammed into the outer wall, but he held on.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up, heart pounding in his ears.
Below him, the giant lumbered on, unaware of the insect clinging to the temple on its back.
Behind him, his team spread out across the black shore, preparing for whatever came next.
And all around them, the wind howled, the waves crashed, and the ground trembled beneath the footsteps of something ancient.
The old man with the axe mounted his horse again without a word. Erik's own horse instinctively followed the group as they resumed pursuit.
"Good," Yosul muttered. "Looks like the giant didn't notice."
Then, louder, for the whole team: "Close the distance, now! We don't know what'll happen once Erik gets the relic—it might trigger the damn thing. Let's go!"
The squad broke into a gallop again, keeping pace with the massive creature as it lumbered across the black shore.
—
High above, Erik hauled himself inside through a shattered stone window, landing awkwardly against crumbled tile.
The interior of the temple felt as ancient as it looked from the outside. Stone pillars leaned at unnatural angles. The entire structure looked like it had been caught mid-collapse… then frozen in time.
"Alright," Erik muttered, straightening himself. "What am I even looking for?"
According to Yosul, the relic was a green diamond, shaped like a crescent moon. But the temple was huge—at least six floors high, possibly more below the surface level, buried under layers of fur and stone.
"Which floor am I even on…?"
He moved cautiously. Every creak of ancient wood, every groan of shifting stone made him pause. Doors sagged on rusted hinges. Most rooms were empty—shattered relics, decayed scrolls, long-dead silence.
He opened wooden boxes. Nothing. Searched behind broken statues. Still nothing.
"Ah… this is a pain," he muttered.
Frustrated, Erik stopped in the middle of a hallway and focused—reading the flow of mana in the air.
And blinked.
"…Nothing?"
Not a single trace. The temple was completely devoid of mana. Not even the residual hum of aged magic. It was like walking through a corpse.
"This… isn't possible," he whispered. "Not even a trace?"
He paused.
Wait… what does this relic even do again?
He walked to a window and peered outside. Down below, he could see the rest of the team gaining ground, galloping alongside the giant. The canyon winds howled around them.
Then, movement—just outside the window. A flicker of light.
Veinar's spirit bird hovered beside him, wings glowing softly.
"Veinar," Erik said. "Can you hear me? There's no mana—none at all. Are we sure this is the right place?"
There was a pause. The bird hovered silently, its ethereal form pulsing faintly.
Then Veinar's voice came through, crackling slightly.
"Yeah, Erik. This is the place."
"…You sure?"
"Yeah, just look above you."
Erik frowned, stepping through the corridor toward an upper balcony. A gust of wind blew through the broken wall beside him. Then—
Whoosh!
A massive shape flew past the balcony—leathery wings slicing the air with a roar.
A dragon.
No—five dragons. Each one the size of a house, scales black as midnight, wings veined with silver. And mounted on their backs—
"Wait…" Erik whispered, stepping into the open.
Figures in black. Clad in tight robes, faces hidden by masks. Armed. Organized. Moving in formation.
Riders.
Enemy riders.
"Okay…" Erik said quietly, eyes narrowing. "Now, who the fuck are these guys?"