Seraphia left Old Hunter Bartow behind, walking alone in the direction he had pointed. The deeper she went, the more twisted and oppressive the woods became.
The stream's murmur grew dull, the water turning a sickly, rusty murk. The trees on either bank were gnarled, their branches like desperate claws reaching for a bleak sky. Their leaves were sparse and black, as if drained of life by some unseen force. The air held a strange mix of sulfur and ozone, stinging her nose and throat with each breath.
Silence. A dead silence.
No birdsong, no insect chirps. Even the wind sounded warped and low here, like a moan or distant, whispering voices. The ground underfoot grew hard, covered in a thin, glassy crust that crunched faintly with every step, a sharp sound in the overwhelming quiet.
Seraphia gripped the holy symbol at her chest, its faint warmth her only comfort. She could feel a vast, invisible pressure smothering the area, pushing back all life, weighing on her own spirit. Was this the 'scar' left by sealing away a forbidden being?
She walked for a long time until the stream vanished entirely before a steep mountain split, as if cleaved by a giant's axe.
"God's Blade…" Seraphia whispered, looking up in awe.
Two cliffsides, hundreds of meters high, faced each other, near-vertical and utterly barren. Their surfaces were impossibly smooth, like polished by some immense, unseen hand, reflecting the weak light with a metallic, blue-black sheen. This was no natural formation. It was a mark left by unimaginable power—perhaps the aftermath of a single blow from that ancient battle.
The wind blowing from the depths of the chasm was bitterly cold, carrying a deep chill and faint, whispering promises that tugged at her robes and hair, trying to weaken her resolve.
Seraphia took a deep breath of the foul air and stepped into the massive scar without hesitation.
The pressure spiked the moment she entered. The air grew thick, each step a effort. The vague whispers at the edge of her hearing grew slightly clearer, though no easier to understand. They were filled with rage, bitterness, and an ancient, profound loneliness, crashing against her mind.
The light from her holy symbol flickered wildly, like a candle in a storm.
Seraphia's face paled further, a fine sweat beading on her brow. She had to pray more constantly now, using her faith to build a fragile mental shield against the relentless assault. She realized this wasn't just a hostile environment; it was the will of the imprisoned being itself, worn by ages but still powerfully saturating its cage.
The chasm wasn't long, but it felt like a century passed before she stumbled out the other side of God's Blade, nearly spent.
The view that opened before her was even more terrifying.
It was a vast, bowl-shaped valley nestled within the mountains. At its center stood the tallest, most forbidding peak of all—the main peak of Giant's Peak. It was a dark, blood-rust red, starkly different from the grey-black mountains around it.
And most striking was the cliff face looking directly at her.
It was smoother and steeper than the walls of God's Blade, almost perfectly vertical. Its surface was covered in enormous, deep gouges, as if raked by the claws of a colossal beast or scarred by the friction of massive chains. At the center of these marks, a section of rock had turned into a strange, crystalline formation, vaguely forming a huge, complex, unnatural geometric pattern.
At the very center of the pattern, driven deep into the rock, was a single **dull gold metal spike**, about three meters long and as thick as a man's forearm.
The spike was simple, its surface etched with ancient, faded runes. It sat there, silent, as if it had existed since the world began. But Seraphia could feel it—all the pressure, all the whispers, all the rage and bitterness saturating this land, its source was ultimately focused on that spike.
It was the heart of the seal.
Seraphia's heart hammered against her ribs, the sound loud in her ears. This was it. The battlefield from the old hunter's tales. The prison of the Rage That Splits Stone.
She walked toward the cliff face, her steps heavy. The closer she got, the worse the mental pressure became, threatening to crush her will. Visions flooded her mind, unbidden—
* *Mountains breaking, boulders falling like rain…*
* *A wild figure roaring amidst storm and flame, tearing the earth with a gesture…*
* *Cold chains falling from the sky, tightening, accompanied by holy, merciless chanting…*
* *Endless darkness, and a rage hot enough to burn the ages, bound for a thousand years…*
"Ungh…" Seraphia groaned in pain, falling to her knees, hands clamping over her ears, but the sounds and images echoed deep within her soul.
*Can't give up. The mission…*
Trembling, she stubbornly lifted her head again, her gaze locking onto the dull gold spike. According to the ancient texts she had deciphered, this was the key and the lock. And she… had the right to 'turn' it.
Using every ounce of strength, she pushed herself up, swaying, and walked unsteadily to the base of the cliff, looking up at the sealing spike high above.
How could she even reach it?
The thought had barely formed when the holy symbol at her chest suddenly turned searing hot!
*Hummm—!*
A pure white light, brighter and more intense than ever before, erupted from the symbol. It wasn't gentle now, but a solid, blazing beam of light that shot straight toward the dull gold spike!
"Ah—!" Seraphia felt her spiritual energy being drained like a floodgate had opened, nearly emptying her in an instant. She gritted her teeth, holding on desperately, her violet eyes burning with a final, reckless resolve.
The beam of light struck the spike.
*Crack.*
A small, impossibly clear sound, like thunder in the dead silence of the valley.
A tiny fissure appeared on the surface of the dull gold spike.
Then a second. A third… The cracks spread like living things, covering the entire spike in an instant!
The huge crystalline seal on the cliff face flashed wildly, stuttering, emitting a grating, straining whine.
*BOOM—!!!*
The whole of Giant's Peak—no, the entire mountain range—began to shake violently! The ground split, rocks tumbled from all sides. It was like the end of the world.
The cracked dull gold spike could hold no longer. With a blinding flash of light, it **shattered explosively into a thousand golden fragments, scattering like dust!**
The seal… was broken.
The light from the holy symbol died instantly, leaving it as dull as common iron. Seraphia collapsed forward, her consciousness fading, barely catching herself on her hands before she fell completely.
She forced her head up, looking at the now-empty section of the cliff.
For one heartbeat, there was absolute silence. Even the shaking earth stilled.
As if time itself had frozen.
Then—
*THUMP.*
A deep, heavy beat, like the heart of the world itself, slammed through the valley!
Seraphia felt her own heart clench in time with the beat, nearly stopping.
*THUMP! THUMP!*
The beats came faster, louder, like a massive drum being pounded疯狂ly in the depths! And with it came a feeling—an indescribable, primal, and暴烈的 presence—waking疯狂ly from deep within the mountain, swelling, ready to erupt!
The cliff face began to groan louder than before, under a terrible strain. Massive fissures spiderwebbed out from where the seal had been, racing up and down the rock face!
***ROOOOAAAAAARRRR—!!!***
With a roar powerful enough to crack the sky and shake stars loose, the entire blood-rust red cliff face of Giant's Peak exploded outward under an irresistible force, **shattering like an eggshell!**
Millions of tons of rock were blasted into the air before crashing down like a meteor shower!
The world dimmed. The light of the sun seemed to fail!
Amidst the raining boulders and billowing dust, a massive, light-warping shadow slowly straightened its form.
Seraphia lay on the ground, her pupils shrunk to pinpricks by sheer awe and terror, staring dumbstruck at the being that had broken the mountain.
The Rage That Splits Stone. The Unchained Spirit—
Kaelan,
Had returned.