The last few hours of the Mount Kabuku ascent were a blur of raw, unyielding will. The air was thin, biting cold, and every breath was a searing effort. The slopes grew steeper, the terrain more treacherous, a relentless vertical climb that seemed designed to strip away every last vestige of strength and hope.
Adam's legs burned with a fire that threatened to consume him, his lungs screaming for oxygen. He moved on instinct, one hand reaching for a frigid rock, the other digging into the icy scree, pulling himself upward. He could feel the altitude now, a dull, pounding ache behind his eyes, a lightheadedness that occasionally made the world spin.
Beside him, Panchenko gasped with each step, his face pale, but his eyes fixed on the distant peak with stubborn defiance. Astrid, though her movements were slower, retained a fierce determination, her lithe body pushing through the pain. Julian, ever the stoic, climbed with a grim, unwavering focus, his breathing ragged but controlled.
Tom, surprisingly, was still moving, albeit slowly, his technical mind now fully dedicated to the mechanical act of climbing, one handhold after another.
Edward, even with his superior vampiric physiology, was showing subtle signs of exertion, a faint mist rising from his breath, his crimson eyes holding a deeper intensity.
He moved with a relentless grace, a silent guardian, occasionally offering a steadying hand or a quiet word of encouragement.
They saw it all around them: the breaking of human and alien spirits. Applicants, once full of hope, now lay slumped against rocky outcrops, shivering violently, their faces etched with despair. Others simply stared blankly at the path ahead, their bodies refusing to obey their minds. The relentless "Ding!!" of successful hunters had been replaced by the chilling silence of those who gave up, or the occasional distant cry for rescue from those who had fallen. The mountain was a silent, unforgiving judge.
"Not… stopping," Panchenko gasped, pushing himself up after a stumble, his knuckles white against the cold rock. "Not… giving up."
"Good," Julian's voice was strained, but firm. "One step. Just one more."
Astrid exhaled a shaky breath, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Almost there. I can feel it."
Tom, checking his internal clock, mumbled, "The air is getting thinner… rapidly. We're over twenty-five thousand feet."
Adam looked up. The peak. It was no longer a distant silhouette. It was a tangible, colossal mass of rock and ice, looming directly above them. It looked agonizingly close, yet impossibly far.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a relatively flat, sheltered ledge. The wind, which had been a constant, howling menace, died down slightly here. They collapsed onto the frigid rock, their muscles trembling, their bodies screaming for rest.
Adam immediately pulled out his comms, his fingers fumbling slightly. "Tom, what's the time?"
Tom, gasping for breath, consulted his device. "Still… five hours left, Adam."
Five hours. That was a revelation. It felt like they had been climbing for days. The peak, from their vantage point, now looked like a mere one-hour hike, perhaps a little more given their exhaustion.
"Five hours," Adam repeated, a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "We… we can rest. Just a little."
Edward, though his breathing was still even, leaned back against the rock, his eyes closed for a brief moment. Even he needed a moment of calm.
"Ten minutes," Edward rumbled, his voice low. "No more. The mountain will not give you the advantage."
They lay there, or sat hunched, allowing their burning muscles to cool, their ragged breaths to steady. The silence of the high altitude was profound, broken only by their own gasps and the distant, mournful shriek of the wind. They watched the sun, a fiery orb, begin its descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and deep purple. Below them, the world stretched out, a vast, distant tapestry of clouds and land.
"I can't believe we made it this far," Astrid whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "So many gave up."
"They lacked the drive," Julian said, his eyes scanning the impossible path behind them. "The true resolve. The kind that Kazakhar teaches."
Panchenko simply grunted, reaching for his almost empty water skin, taking a cautious sip. "Never thought I'd be this tired. Not even after fighting a hundred demon worms."
Adam looked at each of their faces. They were bruised, battered, and utterly spent, but there was a fierce light in their eyes. They had endured. They had faced the ultimate test of physical and mental fortitude, and they had not broken.
After exactly ten minutes, Edward stirred. "Time. The mountain beckons."
Reluctantly, painfully, they pushed themselves to their feet. Every muscle protested, every joint screamed. But the sight of the peak, now seemingly within their grasp, spurred them on.
The final hour of the hike was, in many ways, the most challenging. Their bodies were screaming, their minds begging for surrender. It was a purely mental battle now, a test of sheer stubbornness. The air was thin to the point of pain, each breath a shallow, burning gasp.
They passed more and more defeated applicants, huddled, shivering, some barely conscious. The cold was biting, the wind a cruel, constant assault. Yet, they did not stop. They put one foot in front of the other, a slow, agonizing march towards the summit.
Adam found himself repeating a silent mantra: Kazakhar. Freedom. Demons. Each word a step, a push, a defiance of his body's limits. His new guns, though useless here, felt like anchors, a promise of the power to come.
Then, through the swirling mists of the high altitude, he saw it. Not the peak itself, but the silhouette of figures standing against the sky. Other applicants. They had made it.
A surge of renewed energy, born of competition and shared triumph, coursed through him.
The last few feet were a scramble up sheer rock face, their fingers numb with cold, their lungs burning. And then, Adam pulled himself over a final ledge, collapsing onto a small, relatively flat plateau of rock and ice.
He looked up, gasping for air. Before him stretched the magnificent, terrifying panorama of the world, the clouds swirling below them, the vastness of Namil, and beyond, the distant, curved horizon of the planet.
And there, at the very peak, standing calmly despite the biting wind, was Fyodor. His purple hair was ruffled, but his dark eyes were bright with quiet triumph. He was not alone. A small amount of people, perhaps just over two thousand, stood scattered across the peak, shivering, exhausted, but exhilarated. They were the survivors. The strong.
Adam quickly scanned for his companions. Panchenko hauled himself over the ledge, collapsing beside him with a groan, then flashing a weary, triumphant grin. Astrid, her face flushed with cold and exertion, landed lightly, her daggers still clutched in her hands. Julian pulled himself up, his eyes meeting Adam's in a silent acknowledgment of their shared ordeal. Tom, after a final, painstaking climb, stumbled onto the plateau, immediately checking his comms. Edward, effortlessly graceful, simply stepped onto the peak, his crimson eyes surveying the view, an ancient king surveying his domain.
"Three hours," Tom rasped, pointing to his device, his voice filled with incredulous relief. "We still have three hours left." They had made it with time to spare.
Fyodor, his voice still calm, yet carrying a profound depth, began to speak. His gaze swept over the exhausted, shivering figures gathered on the peak.
"Applicants," Fyodor announced, his voice carrying clearly on the frigid air, "you have faced a challenge designed to break the weak. You have run, you have swum, and you have climbed to the highest point of Mount Kabuku."
He paused, a faint, respectful smile touching his lips. "I saw your struggles. I saw your pain. But I also saw your unyielding will.
Your refusal to surrender. That, above all else, is the mark of a true adventurer."
He then extended a hand, a gesture of profound respect. "To those of you who stand before me now, on this majestic summit, I offer my sincere congratulations. You have proven your endurance. You have proven your spirit. You have passed the Second Adventurer's Exam."
A wave of tired, joyful cheers erupted from the weary crowd, a sound of shared triumph that echoed across the icy peak. Many embraced, others simply sank to their knees, overwhelmed with relief and exhaustion.
Adam looked at his companions, their faces smudged with dirt and streaked with sweat, but their eyes shining with a deep, quiet pride. They had done it. Two exams down. Three more to go. The path to freedom, and to Demon King, was still long, but each step on this frigid peak brought them closer.