Awakening of the Weakest Slayer

Let's Jump off the Roof."

Sezel's words cut through the strained quiet, delivered without warning, startling them all. Shiki stared, incredulous. "What?"

The suggestion was particularly jarring coming from Sezel, who had, only moments before, been the voice of reason against such recklessness. It was as if something fundamental had shifted within him.

Vesta walked slowly to his side, her gaze sweeping across the vast expanse that had fallen silent since the dragon's departure. "Okay," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let's go. But how will we get down?"

It was an obvious question. They stood on the rooftop of a building that easily soared twenty meters high. Even for Awakened Slayers, such a drop was lethal.

Sezel paused, considering, then turned, a strange glint in his crimson eyes. "We'll make a rope."

Shiki and Vesta exchanged bewildered glances, but then understanding dawned on Vesta's face. Sezel quickly outlined his plan, and they followed him down to the lower floors where they had been sheltering.

The task was simple in theory: cut down the thick, tenacious vines that clung to the walls, weaving them into a sturdy rope. The building was choked with them, brittle tendrils and surprisingly vibrant green wilderness that snaked through every crack. These hardy plants wouldn't break easily, making them perfect for the job.

So, they can pretty easily make a rope out of these and then climb down from the wall to the other side.

They spent the next hour working with a quiet, focused intensity. It wasn't an easy task. They needed only the thickest, most resilient vines, carefully selected and meticulously tied. If a knot had too much girth, it was bound to unravel under pressure. By the time they were done, the room looked cleaner and less crowded.

After three hours of relentless, concentrated effort, they finally had it: a nearly twenty-meter-long rope, woven tight and strong.

Sezel and Shiki carried the heavy coil up to the rooftop, while Vesta followed with their bags and all their essential items. Sezel tied one end of the rope to a metal rod, firmly embedded in the roof's concrete. With a grunt, he heaved the rest of the rope over the edge of the wall.

It didn't quite reach the ground, but it was enough, a jump of a few meters would be easily managed. Now, all that was left was to descend.

The sun had already passed its zenith, its golden light now slanting low across the sky. Night was nearing, and the safest bet would be to reach the factories, or some other secure location within the walled-off territory, before the moons claimed the night sky.

The weather above them remained an eerie paradox; the other side of the wall was sunny and the side they were on was covered with clouds. It was a phenomenon impossible to witness on Earth.

Without further delay, they began their descent. Shiki went first, securing one of the bags, its weight significantly reduced from the supplies they'd consumed over the last fifteen days. Vesta followed, Mari clinging to her shoulders, a small, trusting burden.

They safely reached the surface, and as they jumped down to the ground they were completely hidden in the tall golden stacks. Sezel, taking a deep breath, began his own climb down the rope, trusting its strength. It held, sturdy and unyielding, until he, too, landed beside them.

But they wouldn't be so foolish as to leave the rope in place, it was an invitation to problems, there were chances, however slim that some other slayer group might stumble there and reach down.

The Spirit Realm was a place of brutal survival, and every advantage had to be exploited or eliminated.

Shiki stepped forward, grabbing the rope. A strange aura, subtle but unmistakable, shimmered around his hands as he pulled. He exerted so much strength that not just the rope, but even the metal rod it was tied to, came tearing out of the building with a groan.

'So, his fable is related to physical strength.' Sezel thought, observing. He had been studying Shiki for a while, trying to deduce his power, but this was the first clear display of his Fable's influence.

Sezel had kept his puppet ahead, scanning the immediate surroundings through its senses. There was nothing unusual. The path to the factories seemed clear, and it was safer to travel now, while the sun still provided some semblance of security.

They had reached a conclusion: the "figures" Sezel had seen earlier were indeed beasts, and most of them had been dispatched by his puppet's hunting.

As they moved toward the factories, pushing through the overgrown wilderness of golden stalks, Sezel absorbed the cores of the beasts slain by his puppet. He asked Vesta and Shiki to go on ahead, staying behind for a moment to absorb them in secret.

After a long, breathless walk, they finally reached the place where Sezel's puppet had been hiding near the factories. They all sat down, taking a well-earned break, sharing their dwindling water and food before continuing their trek towards the factories.

The sky above was now painted in deep hues of orange and gold, the dying light of the sun stretching across the vast expanse. There were no birds flying back to their homes, no chirping of insects. Everything was silent, save for the soft, rustling slither of the wind passing through the tall wilderness.

Suddenly, Sezel shot to his feet. "Let's get moving," he announced, his voice firm.

Both Vesta and Shiki looked at him, puzzled by his sudden urgency, something was strange. "Shouldn't we rest for a bit?" Vesta asked, her brow furrowed.

Sezel turned to face her, a strange, knowing glint in his crimson eyes. "It's going to be night soon," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "We need to get back to our lord before night falls."

Vesta and Shiki's eyes widened, a flicker of startled realization passing between them. They instantly shot up from their seats, their previous exhaustion forgotten. "Oh, yes!" Vesta exclaimed, her voice taking on a strangely fervent tone. "How could I say such a thing? We need to hurry back to our lord!" Shiki nodded vigorously in agreement, his face grim with newfound purpose.

Mari's gaze wandered between them, her small face a mask of confusion and fear. But she didn't dare speak, she only clutched Sezel's hand. She trusted him, and him alone. And yet, it was as if the three adults had completely forgotten about the child, moving on without even asking her.

"We have made our Lord wait long enough," Sezel declared, his voice echoing with false reverence.