The man who was once the most powerful alive lived in a place nobody dared to go. Alistair had been walking toward it for three days.
"The Black Mountains."
Alistair Thorne muttered to himself, recalling a story someone had told him years ago that had led him to where he is now, walking alone along a path.
Most people would avoid that region, as it is practically uninhabitable due to the extreme weather.
However, something that only Alistair knew was that the man who once stood at the top of the world resided here.
"The Echelon and its corruption… If I wanted to topple the government, I would have to start here, by meeting the Shadow of Former Glory."
But, how?
'It is quite nerve-racking to think a man that could be more powerful than billions of people is just in a place like this. It could explain why it feels so empty.'
The Shadow of Former Glory was at the top of the continent, above billions of people who resided in Solnar.
However, Alistair was never one to believe in the Echelons and their system, and he had a goal to fulfill by meeting him.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally reached a flat place on one of the mountains. The snow only got stronger, blowing on Alistair's dark armor.
Until, eventually, he saw a singular house amidst the snow. Surprisingly, it was a half-ruined house, seemingly barely standing.
But, in a single moment, a presence broke out. Instantly, Alistair summoned his Rune Sword.
At the same moment, he let it vanish into the air again, refusing to let the chance slide.
Slowly, he painfully let his feet step forward, despite the presence that led away the stars from casting their gaze at this land.
It was bitterly cold, which also couldn't be ignored.
Unwilling to stop, Alistair took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door.
Nothing. He tried again, only to be met with the same result. That brought him to a last resort.
He swallowed, and his heart beat quickly as he gripped the door handle and opened the door slightly, creaking loudly in the silence.
Alistair's eyes fluttered for a moment until he saw the interior.
To his surprise, it appeared to be an ordinary wooden house. Alistair's eyes widened as he finally realized the source of this presence.
A lone man sitting on a couch, in front of him a window that showcased the heavy snow outside.
There was no kind of warmth in the room, only a person who was deemed to be the strongest in history.
Alistair was speechless.
"Pathetic First." Shadow of Former Glory spoke, breaking the silence.
Alistair still had nothing to reply with, as he just stood still next to the door.
Shadow of Former Glory leaned his back over the couch, looking back as his black hair dropped downwards.
His eyes were as void as the abyss, his humanity practically gone.
"That was what they called me, three hundred years ago. I'm pathetic, aren't I?"
Alistair frowned, refusing to believe this predicament. The Shadow of Former Glory turned out to be just an old man devoid of emotion, that was how it seemed, anyway.
Ignoring that, Alistair talked, "Are you not going to question how I found you?"
Shadow of Former Glory chuckled, taking a sip from a cup of hot water.
"The snow told me what I need to know."
Alistair's eyes widened, realizing the presence came from not Glory himself, but from the immense amount of snow, each particle holding a presence of its own, which combined to become one mass.
"Take a seat. Don't be shy."
Alistair refused, shaking his head slightly for his own reasons.
"You should know why I came here," said Alistair.
Glory smiled, his face barely visible. "I don't."
Alistair stared for a few moments, letting the silence overtake their conversation.
Before he finally continued, "I broke from the shackles of the Upholders of Law and Justice after learning about your whereabouts, because I had a feeling that no one else in the world would be able to understand my goal in toppling the fallacy of the Nameless Throne and the Echelon."
"You expected too much… It was a treacherous journey, wasn't it?" asked Glory.
Alistair looked away for a few moments, then he simply shook his head.
Glory sighed, "I won't say you're right. I'm not one to destroy dreams; however, I need to be honest, since you seem set on doing this."
Having said that, Glory raised his arm and let the robe covering it fall. What Alistair saw was something inexplicable.
It was a scar, but something that looked much more than a scar, from what it radiated, as if it were millions of eyes put into one place, all of them exploding over and over.
Alistair would usually be used to seeing blood, but this was another level.
"I also planned to bring them down, but… I was met with this outcome."
The silence grew as Alistair's mouth opened in shock.
If someone as powerful as Glory was defeated, what chance did Alistair stand in this brutal war?
Alistair clicked his tongue before falling silent, his jaw tightening.
"Death and pain are part of my goal. How else would I succeed? If you think a mere scar could make me abandon what I want to achieve, then it seems like I'm wasting my time here," Alistair declared, showing no hint of fear.
Glory remained silent, listening to him. Others might have ridiculed, mocked, or inflicted pain on Alistair. However, Glory chose to stay quiet.
The wind intensified outside as the atmosphere grew heavy, while the snow's presence decreased.
Alistair turned around, accepting that this was a waste of time and effort.
Without sending his regards whatsoever, Alistair walked out of the house and stepped back onto the snow to leave.
Before completely leaving, he stopped in his tracks.
"You are eligible to construct your own faction. Do what you will with that."
Glory's last words resounded like the wind itself, and as soon as Alistair turned, he was met with the abrupt disappearance of the house; in front of him lay only the snowy wastelands above the Black Mountains.
Alistair's lips twitched before he finally realized his face was covered with a smile that reached up to his ears.