The light spilling from the fractured gate cut through the gloom of the valley like a blade. Kael stepped forward cautiously, the boy trailing a few paces behind, silent but alert. The air inside was thick—not just with dust, but with a lingering sense of memory, as if the walls themselves remembered every footstep, every whisper.
The gate widened, revealing a vast courtyard overrun with twisted roots and shattered statues. At the center, a black stone altar sat, engraved with faint, silver runes still glowing faintly. Kael could feel it before he saw it—a pulse, rhythmic and slow, like a heartbeat frozen in time.
"This place… it's alive," the boy murmured, awe and fear mingling in his voice.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Not alive… conscious. This is a remnant of their power, their last defense. And it's watching us."
He approached the altar. The silver runes reacted immediately, flaring as if recognizing him. The air grew heavy, pressing against his chest. Kael closed his eyes and let his newly awakened essence resonate with the runes.
A scream—sharp, fleeting, and echoing—cut through the courtyard. Shadows writhed along the walls, forming twisted shapes of warriors long dead. Their hollow eyes glimmered with resentment, rage, and despair.
Kael drew a deep breath. "So this is the price of knowledge," he said quietly. "To claim the path of the forsaken, you must face those who came before—and surpass them."
The boy shivered but stepped closer. Kael placed a hand on his shoulder. "If you want to survive, you must trust me… and yourself."
With that, Kael knelt by the altar, pressing his hands onto the black stone. The silver runes pulsed faster, syncing with the rhythm of his own heart. A surge of energy shot through him, scorching yet invigorating. Memories not his own—visions of battles, betrayals, and mastery—flooded his mind.
Pain screamed in his body, but Kael did not flinch. Every fracture within him, every wound of abandonment, fed the power coursing through his veins. He could feel the first real step of his cultivation taking hold, the path of the forsaken beginning in earnest.
As light and shadow danced around him, the boy whispered, almost to himself, "I want to be strong… like him."
Kael opened his eyes, the glow of awakening in his gaze. "Then we walk this path together. And we leave nothing behind—not fear, not weakness, not regret."
The ruins seemed to hum in acknowledgment. Somewhere deep within, the mountain itself sighed.
The real breaker had truly begun.