Lihuen planted both feet firmly into the ground, knees slightly bent, arms raised.
In front of him, Sen circled slowly, eyes watchful — almost amused.He had wanted it to be her.He didn't need a teacher. He needed a mirror.And Sen, with her precise movements and instinctive reading of space, was the closest thing he had to a guide.
The first time she struck him, it hadn't been violent.Just sharp.Just enough to throw him off balance — and teach him two things:One, she wasn't playing.Two, he'd have to learn fast.
For three days now, they'd been training.Slowly, at first.Warm-ups, stretches. Then simple movements. Rolls, dodges. Then the strikes.Simple. Efficient.Sen struck with her whole body — even in grace. She used momentum, footing, terrain.Lihuen, for his part, learned to follow.To read.To respond.
And the harder he pushed, the more he felt that strange thread in his chest — a quiet warmth that stirred with every well-measured effort. Not fire. Not visible flow.Just… a response.As if something inside him approved.
He'd realized quickly that this wasn't just normal progression.He retained faster.His body copied, adapted, absorbed.Every ache was a lesson.Every movement improved the next.He wasn't becoming a master.But he was becoming fluid.
He leapt aside — Sen reacted instantly.A paw slipped forward, a twist of her hips — a feint.He stepped back again, tried to counter.She spun, dodged.
He smiled, breathless.
— That's it… we're almost there.
The space itself seemed to adapt to their rhythm.The soft canyon light never dimmed.The water stayed fresh and clear.The stone didn't shift — but neither did it weigh down.It felt like a space suspended between two wills — his, and that of the Domain.
By the second day, he had also discovered he could feed himself here.The cold river wasn't barren: small, translucent fish darted beneath the surface. Hard to catch — but with patience, and some help from Sen, he managed to catch one or two each day.He ate them raw, sliced neatly on a flat stone.Not a feast — but enough.He stayed upright, clear-headed.And the water — icy, but pure — seemed to carry more than liquid.It soothed aches.Calmed nerves.He learned to drink slowly, to breathe between sips.
At night, he slept better.Deeper.Each morning, he woke with sharper focus.Muscles ready.Mind clear.Breath aligned.He'd never felt this before.He was learning what true progression meant.
One morning, as he stretched by the river's edge, he felt the rune in his palm pulse more strongly.
He straightened, brow furrowed.
Something wanted to emerge.
He closed his eyes, focused inward.His breathing slowed.He visualized the previous day's movement — a sprint along a sloped wall, followed by a jump.It hadn't worked. Too heavy. Poor angle.
But today…
He tried the same motion.
And this time, at the moment of contact with the wall, he felt an anchoring. Fleeting. But real.His steps held to the surface as if they belonged there.
One step. Two.
Then he dropped, softly.
He didn't understand immediately.He tried again.Same result.For one second — maybe two — he'd felt gravity give.
He touched the rune.
It glowed brighter.
Not a conscious power.Not a skill.A capability, perhaps.An affinity being born.
He stepped back, tried again.A higher point this time.But this time, it wasn't gravity that gave — it was his balance.He aimed too high.He fell.Rolled through the dust.
Sen approached, head tilted.
He raised his hands.
— I'm fine. Just experimenting.
He got up, laughed softly.No one was there to judge him.Only him — and the place.
Each day, he pushed a little more.
The waterfall became a tool.He stood beneath it to accustom himself to cold, to the constant force of falling water.He stayed under until his muscles trembled.Then he sat.Meditated.Breathed.
He wasn't trying to become strong.
He was trying to become ready.
Ready for what?He didn't know yet.
But he felt it wasn't just to survive the golems.It wasn't just to escape this place.
It was to rise to whatever was expected of him.
The Title.The Path.
Legendary. Nebulous.
Words that, elsewhere, might inspire laughter. Or fear.But here, they felt right.They fit.
One evening, as he repeated movements in slow motion, Sen sat beside him.She lifted her head toward the high rock above the waterfall.Then gave a low growl — a call.
Lihuen followed her gaze.
— You want to climb up there?
She turned her head toward him, then toward the slope again.
He smiled.
— All right. But you're coming with me.
It was their first true ascent.
Not a retreat.Not an escape.A chosen climb.
He placed his hands, his feet.Felt the points of pressure. The tension.Sen leapt with precision.He advanced methodically.No tricks.No rushing.
Halfway up, he lost a hold.His heart jumped.He slipped.Sen watched him from above.
He pressed his hand flat to the stone.
And then — gravity gave.Just enough.
He regained balance.And climbed.
They reached the crest just as the blue light pulsed brighter.Up there, a natural platform opened — circular, like an old forgotten altar.
He sat.Breathing hard.But gaze calm.
Sen curled beside him.Together, they looked over the mineral valley.
And Lihuen understood something.
He wasn't in a hurry.
There was no clock.
There was only the next movement.The next balance.
And in that strange calm, he felt that true strength wouldn't be in leaving faster —
But in leaving ready.
He stayed there a long while, contemplating the silence.It wasn't empty.It was waiting.As if the Domain itself held its breath, curious to see what he would do next.
Lihuen rose slowly.His legs responded without pain.His body, though tired, felt prepared.He cast one last glance at the valley below.Sen, already bounding down, waited without a word.
He descended after her.Not to return — but to complete a loop.
Here, he had learned.Here, he had forged himself.
But the time for passive training… was ending.
Something was coming.
The next morning, he didn't warm up.He didn't need to.
The movements were there.Inscribed.Not in theory — but in flesh.
He began to run.
Not to flee.Not to drill.To feel.The ground underfoot. The momentum. The breath.
He leapt across the walls, testing his footing, his angles.Sometimes gravity gave — just slightly — just enough to twist along a wall or rebound where he might have fallen.
It wasn't a power.It was a dance.
And he was starting to master it.
Sen ran with him — silent, fast, fluid.This time, she didn't lead.She followed.She affirmed.
After an hour weaving through the heights, they stopped before the narrow opening through which they'd come.
Still impassable.
Still guarded by the unmoving shadows of distant golems, beyond the misty glow of shifting arches.
He stood there, quiet.
Then he spoke.Not for Sen — for himself.To clarify what he carried.
— I don't know where the convoy is. Or if they're even still there. I got separated too fast. Too far. I didn't even shout. I just… slipped. Fell. Crossed.
He laid a hand on the stone.
— But one thing's for sure — I'm not here to wait for rescue.
A breath.
— I need to get out. Find the others. Not just to rejoin the group — but to understand. To choose.
He raised his head.
— This Title. This Path. This damn Domain… I don't think it's a test in the usual sense.It's a filter. A sieve.You pass, or you stay.And if you pass, it's not because you followed a path — it's because you made one.Step by step.
He sighed.
— I don't have a set Path. I don't have a Master.But I still have a purpose.And I won't wait for someone else to validate it.
A low rumble rose from the depths.
The Domain had heard him.
He stepped back from the entrance.Searched for another slope.Another gap.
And then he saw it.
A higher opening.Nearly invisible from below.Barely wider than his shoulders.A crack in the stone, exhaling warm air and brighter light.
He smiled.Not with relief.With recognition.
— There. That's it, right?Finding what others overlook.
He looked at Sen.
— Shall we?
She passed ahead without hesitation.
He followed, legs steady, breath held.
They'd left the crest at dawn.Descended in silence — only to climb elsewhere.Toward that fissure they'd never explored.A fracture in the stone, nearly invisible from the floor.
This was it.This was now.
Lihuen stopped at the edge of the crack, eyes on Sen's shifting shadow as she moved ahead.She walked without rush, almost gliding — as if she knew every fold of the winding passage.
Behind her, Lihuen set his stride to hers, the rune in his palm pulsing with promise.They moved together, step by steady step, toward an uncertain exit.
The passage narrowed.The vehement walls looked clawed by vanished entities.Deep vertical marks marred the granitic stone.Even the air felt denser — thick with invisible weight.The silence was no longer just an absence of sound.It had presence.A question.A threshold waiting to seal itself behind them.
Then, at last, the space opened.
A vast oval chamber.Its floor bathed in darkness.And at the center — a single figure, unmoving:
A stone golem.All compacted weight and focus.Not as massive as its kin, but more human.And almost too heavy to be controlled.
A reddish glow pulsed from its chest — a frozen heart, but still alive.
It turned its head slowly toward Lihuen and Sen — as if it recognized them.
And the world… held its breath.