Martial Demons Ascension

The months blurred together Training meditation sparring Every day bled into the next until suddenly the routine of the village broke

The first sign was the sound of clattering hooves on the mountain trail rare jarring against the usual quiet rhythm of the isolated settlement Children darted toward the path shouting over each other and soon half the village was gathered peering down the sloping dirt road

And then they saw him

A boy no not a boy older than any of the temple students perhaps sixteen maybe edging toward seventeen His frame was lean but poised his back straight as if a rod of steel had been fixed there His dark blue hair thick and slightly fluffy caught the sunlight as he walked carrying himself with a posture that screamed of cultivation and education His skin was pale untouched by the harsh weather of the mountains and his face was clean almost delicate handsome in the way that drew stares though his expression was cool detached almost dismissive

His clothes marked him as different immediately finely tailored tunic and cloak not luxurious enough to flaunt recklessly but too high quality to belong to a common villager The leather straps on his boots were reinforced with faint metallic threads the kind seen on enchanted travel gear A short sword rested at his hip the hilt bound in blue dyed leather It wasn't ostentatious but it was unmistakably noble

The whispers spread instantly

"Who is he"

"A noble"

"Why here why now"

"Sixteen and traveling the mountains"

The boy glanced at none of them His eyes a sharp slate gray swept the village only once before settling on the temple spire that rose above the houses His pace never faltered steady and sure as though the entire mountain was already mapped in his mind

And beneath his composed exterior there was something else An arrogance not born of ignorance but of certainty The kind of quiet confidence only someone talented enough to survive the wilderness at sixteen could carry

From his home Rhyka saw everything

He wasn't looking with his eyes His lids were half lowered his body still sitting in his usual meditative posture But the golden blaze of Martial Essence sight stretched outward painting the world for him in threads of intent movement and possibility

The noble was bright Not like a mage core not raw mana but his body burned with clear lines of refinement His weight distribution was perfect with each step the rhythm of his stride calculated He had fought recently Rhyka could see faint stress lines along the tendons of his shoulders the micro adjustments in his gait to hide soreness

And yet despite the minor strain he moved through the village as if the path bent to him not the other way around

Rhyka smirked faintly to himself A noble here of all places No wonder the villagers are restless

He leaned back golden eyes narrowing His thoughts were quick methodical

He's too old to be another temple student Too polished to be a wanderer Which means he's waiting probably the same thing I am The caravan

Rhyka's smirk grew

If the rumors were true if a Rank 5 devil beast was the reason the caravan had stalled then no amount of waiting would push the merchants through But a noble A noble carried weight With his status his pressure his coin perhaps he could force the caravan to move earlier or convince the guards to take the risk

For Rhyka who had spent two years honing his body and spirit with only the mountains as his cage the possibility was intoxicating

He whispered under his breath more to himself than anyone else

"Convince them to move little noble Force their hand And when you do I'll be ready"

But he didn't underestimate him either

The noble's body though not tempered like Rhyka's still carried threads of martial discipline He had fought Killed even He wasn't just pampered flesh and blood His arrogance had the spine to support it

Rhyka's golden eyes closed slowly the smirk fading into something colder

If he's as sharp as he looks he'll notice me eventually And if he doesn't all the better

The village bustled as the noble passed through whispers and speculation chasing him like shadows But up on the hill Rhyka sat still the golden blaze of Martial Essence sight fading as he let the world return to normal

His mind though was already spinning

A new piece had entered the board And Rhyka intended to use him

The village hadn't seen someone like him in years

The name passed from mouth to mouth by the end of the first day Nero Sixteen years old A noble though he hadn't yet said from where But what mattered wasn't his clothes his sword or even his pale aristocratic features It was his strength

Those with trained eyes could see it immediately The way his mana gathered cleanly in his chest the weight of his steps the pressure that came off him like heat from a forge He wasn't a dabbler He wasn't a wandering child trying his luck At sixteen he was already standing on the cusp of the Third Stage

That alone made him a rarity

On his second morning he went straight to the church

The heavy doors groaned open as he pushed them aside sunlight spilling into the shadowed interior His boots struck the stone floor with sharp deliberate rhythm His expression was calm but his eyes swept the place quickly as though searching for something or someone

A priest hurried forward bowing slightly but Nero wasted no time His voice was low composed with a faint edge of command

"I need information about the caravan routes Specifically when the next will be departing from these mountains"

The priest froze glancing at the others nervously "The caravan is delayed my lord The mountain path is not safe"

"I'm aware" Nero cut in "A Rank 5 has entrenched itself That's why I'm asking I need to know who handles negotiations with the merchants here Who I need to speak to"

His tone wasn't rude It was precise clipped as though he expected cooperation without needing to raise his voice

The priest hesitated about to speak again when the sound of footsteps echoed from behind

Emmet emerged from the side corridor arms folded eyes narrowing as he took in the pale haired youth

Nero turned slightly regarding the man with the sharp gray eyes of someone used to assessing threats His gaze flicked once over Emmet's frame the way he carried himself the faint hum of mana in his veins the tempered posture of someone who had seen combat His lips curved faintly

"You" Nero said stepping forward "You look like a man with experience Tell me are you in charge of this place"

Emmet raised a brow "I teach the students here That's all"

Nero's gaze sharpened "Then you're strong" He reached into his cloak pulled out a small neatly tied pouch and tossed it lightly into the air The clink of coin rang out as it landed in his palm "Name your price Join me when I leave this mountain and it's yours"

The offer was blunt Not arrogant but matter of fact as though he were used to solutions being bought

Emmet didn't even glance at the pouch He shook his head once "I'm not for hire"

Nero tilted his head "You'd turn down coin when you're stuck in a village like this"

"I'd turn down coin when it's wasted on me" Emmet replied flatly "If you want someone to travel with don't bother with me You want the students"

That made Nero pause His brows knit faintly "Students"

"Yes" Emmet said "Some of mine have been preparing to leave They've been training harder than anyone else here And unlike the villagers they're already committed to going down the mountain when the chance comes"

For the first time Nero's composed expression shifted His eyes narrowed thoughtfully "At their age They're ready to leave"

Emmet's lips twitched faintly "You'll find they're not ordinary"

Nero said nothing for a long moment Then he gave a single nod sharp and decisive

"Then point me to them"