A biting wind greeted them as they entered the cave's narrow opening. The chill was so intense that Orion felt his body seize up, the cold gnawing at him until his teeth clattered uncontrollably. He barely managed to envelop himself in a cocoon of spiritual energy, staving off the bone-deep freeze that lingered in the air.
The group of approximately 15 advanced deeper into the cave, silent, their faces grim. With each step, Orion found himself forced to channel more and more inner energy, struggling to keep the cold at bay. This wasn't just a simple mission—they had to contend with both the deadly frost and the powerful creatures lurking within.
Suddenly, a mid-level 8 Frostfield Fox appeared from the shadows, its fur blending seamlessly into the icy environment. Level 8 beasts weren't just strong—they were intelligent, with cunning minds almost equal to humans. The Frostfield Fox, however, was a creature of speed and deadly precision, its sharp claws like an assassin's blade.
Brandon took the front, acting as their tank. He endured the fox's relentless attacks, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But the beast wasn't easily fooled. Its sharp eyes focused on Orion—the weakest of the group.
With blinding speed, the fox lunged toward Orion, its claws aimed directly at his neck. Time seemed to slow as Orion's heart raced. But just before the blow could land, Linda one of the mercenaries who fought the low-level beasts earlier appeared beside him, her sword intercepting the attack. Sparks flew from the clash as the fox used the momentum to leap backward, retreating into the shadows once more.
The mercenaries wasted no time. Brandon unleashed his technique, Lunging Earth, sending a huge blast of sand towards the beast, momentarily blinding the creature. In that split second, Leroy Brandon's right hand man darted behind the fox, driving his blade deep into its back. The creature let out a final, pitiful whine before collapsing, never seeing the face of its killer.
The battle ended in silence, but the air remained tense.
The journey continued, uneventful yet heavy with the feeling of missed opportunities. Lady Luck had not graced them with any fortuitous encounters, but this wasn't a gamble—they were here for one reason only: the hidden array they had stumbled upon during their previous exploration.
That array had teleported them to a grand Throne Room, an ominous place where the skeleton of a long-dead cultivator sat on a golden chair. Its aura still chilled the air, a testament to the power it held in life. Seals were etched into the walls, ancient scripts of a forgotten era. They couldn't decipher them, so they had returned—this time with reinforcements.
Orion stood in front of the throne, examining the scripts. Unlike anything he had seen before, these symbols seemed to pulsate with an unknown power. Hours passed as he meticulously worked through the lines, and after nearly five hours of struggle, he managed to translate the first:
"Like thousands of soldiers in parachutes, they come out of the winter sky. But only one is needed to claim victory for the season now unfolding."
Orion frowned, puzzled. What could this mean? It seemed like an esoteric riddle, far removed from their current mission.
He pressed on, translating line after line, each one harder than the last. By the time he reached the sixth, he was completely stumped. Symbols unlike any he had seen were mixed into the text, halting his progress. The group grew restless. Brandon and the others had long since finished recovering their spiritual energy, and they waited, eyes on Orion, expecting results.
"The seal scripts… they say:
Like thousands of soldiers in parachutes,
they come out of the winter sky,
but only one is needed to claim victory,
for the season now unfolding,
when the time comes,
we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid,
if only we're brave enough to see it,
if only we're brave enough to do it,
the new dawn blooms as we free it,
for there is always light."
Orion recited the lines aloud. Silence followed, each member of the group lost in their thoughts, unable to decipher the meaning. But Orion's mind was racing. His gaze shifted toward the six stands occupying the corners of the Throne Room. At first, he had assumed they were merely for lighting, but now… what if they were something more?
"I think…" Orion's voice broke the silence, "…the 'thousands of soldiers' from the winter sky is comparing us martial artists to snowflakes. Snowflakes have six points. Look at the shape of the room—there are six of us, and six corners."
Brandon nodded, catching on. "We should spread out. Let's see if this does anything."
Everyone moved to their respective corners, but nothing happened. They looked toward Orion for an answer, but he was just as clueless. Frustration gnawed at him. There had to be more.
Then, an idea struck him. A dangerous, reckless idea. "Essence blood…"
The group hesitated. Essence blood was precious, the foundation of one's cultivation. To waste even a drop was unthinkable. Yet, Orion believed this was the key.
"I'll go first." Without waiting, Orion pricked his finger, a single droplet of essence blood falling onto the pearl embedded in the stand. A soft green light flared up, absorbing his essence. One by one, the others followed.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled, and before each of them, a gate materialized—glowing, ominous, and beckoning. Without hesitation, they stepped through.
What awaited them on the other side was not treasure or danger, but… light. Thousands of orbs of light, swirling in all directions, erratic and unpredictable. Orion's breath caught in his throat.
"What… is this?"