Chapter 145: It Stood Hidden

Chapter 145: It Stood Hidden

Chapter 145

It Stood Hidden

Trek through the snow was fairly easy, but it was the night that made it difficult. Still, Sylas persisted, belting his boots into the snow and imprinting the path from the castle southward. The lonesome moon in the sky reflected his own being, as for the first time in a while, he was alone. A rugged, leather backpack hung over his shoulder, packed with essentials--more so than usual since he didnt have Asha to rain supplies from the blue sky--and a sword strapped to the belt.

The night was as calm as he remembered nights being--it was when the noise died out and nature took a hold of reality. However, he didn't stop to relish it or admire it. He was mission-bound, single-minded in his pursuit. And while the fields and the forests and the mountains and even the slightly dimmed stars behind the graying clouds were all beautiful, they didn't matter to him.

What did, however, was whether hed find the men responsible for most, if not all of the castles ills, west of the village. Hed have to make sure not to approach the village, however, as he didnt know how far out the man within could see and he didnt want to draw his attention. As such, hed be rounding the open fields around the village through the forest, moving directly from there into the western mountains and moving south from there.

Though he didnt have a perfect route in mind, largely because he wasnt familiar with the terrain there past the very surface-level depiction of it on what was a fairly unreliable map, the rough one was more than enough.

Ever so often, he'd pause, knee-deep in snow, to reorient himself properly; navigating the world without a phone, he'd long since learned, was remarkably difficult--but, over what felt like eons by this point, he had the time to adjust and adapt. This was the case with most other things; toilets were outhouses, toilet paper rugged leaves of a tree, 'freshwater' marginally brown, hearths centralized to the few, if any, important rooms while the rest of the castle was forced to wrap itself into layers of blankets, and the list went on.

Hoping it would change further south, he continued walking along the mountains edge for a few days longer until a faint cleavage-like view between the mountains offered him a sight of something that floored it--it was another mountain beyond the current stretch, deeper into the ring, but it was... more of a spire. Rather than the ordinary, pyramid-like structure, it was platformed into craggy extrusions, all framing a central, statuesque rock.

It was flat along the edges and rose straight vertically like a propped-up building, only thinning out at an angle toward the sky-bound summit. To the side, he saw the cascading platforms that looked like stairs for giants bleeding into what looked like the above surface world in and of itself, with bridges connecting various mountains and valleys.

Furthermore, it was much, much, much taller than everything around it--and, more shockingly, despite being all that much taller, he was unable to see it from anywhere else but that singular opening between the two mountains. That is, while he should have seen the tower looming over the surrounding area... he didnt.

Theyre there, aint they? he mumbled into the wind, sighing. Serendipity, luck, coincidence--a million tiny machinations played part in him discovering this as, otherwise, he would have been a blind man since he suspected that there was more to it all than just the basic illusion of hiding.

He settled down on top of a nearby tree with a decent view of the structure, electing to observe it for a while to see if hed notice anything else that was strange. He sat so for a few days, only ever noticing minor things--occasional flashes of light that passed as quickly as they arrived, though could still be explained as simply as it being lightning. Once or twice, he also felt as though the mountain began to vibrate for a moment--the movement was minuscule and, for all he knew, it was just his eyes and mind playing a trick on him.

Since long-distance observation yielded no results, and since his supplies were on their last leg, Sylas eyed a nearby mountain that appeared the easiest to climb of the bunch. Hed still have to use a lot of basic, arm-climbing without any equipment, not to mention that the mountains appeared to be covered in a sheet of ice which likely made them extremely slippery. He hoped, in the end, his body heat would melt the ice quickly enough so that he would be able to latch onto the rugged rock beneath.

Looking at the steep climb, he began to mentally map out several potential routes toward his first destination--a slight protrusion that he would be able to use as a rest point. It was some six hundred feet up by the quickest estimate and had several additional take-off points for the further climb.

Blowing hot air into his hands and stretching for a moment, he hung the backpack over his shoulders with what few supplies he had left and began the climb. The first hundred feet or so was mostly just walking up a steep, snow-ridden, uncleaned path. Though difficult and taxing, it was not all that different than just walking through the snow. After, however, the steep path was intercepted by sudden, vertical cliffs that he had to scale without an alternate route.

Latching onto the first rock, he felt the frost tingle his fingers for a moment before his own blood began to boil, melting the ice beneath his hand. The whole ordeal took 2-3 seconds which, though not a lot by any means, was in reality far, far, far too long. Two-three seconds was enough for him to lose the grip and fall off. Frowning, he could only pray; after all, though he could regulate his body heat to a certain extent, most of it was actually automated by his instincts. The climb would be long and harrowing, and a single mistake would likely result in death--even for him. But it was a climb he had to take. There were answers beyond that he was desperately seeking, and a threat of death was far from enough to deter him.