Martial Demons Ascension

The days bled together quickly after that

Nero wasted no time Each morning he could be seen crossing through the village, his cloak trailing behind him, his presence cutting a clean path through the crowd as though the villagers themselves parted instinctively He carried himself with the same poised arrogance as always, but now there was an added weight to his steps, urgency, purpose

He had made contact

Messengers were sent out down the precarious mountain routes, guided by Nero's precise instructions and backed by the church's authority It was the testament of the temple priest, stamped and sealed with the sigil of the goddess, that truly moved things forward Alone, Nero was just a noble, powerful, yes, but a single voice With the church vouching for him, and with Emmet confirming what had already shaken the students, that there was now another combatant of Rank 3 strength in the village, the caravan could no longer delay

Two Rank 3 level fighters in a place like this… it was insurance A shield against the dangers of the mountain roads Merchants who once hesitated would feel safer Guards who muttered of turning back would grit their teeth and continue Coin and faith spoke loudly together, and Nero had both

Word spread through the village faster than wildfire

"The caravan will come Two days at most"

"They'll actually risk the crossing"

"With the noble and… him" The speaker's voice dropped, almost wary "That magicless boy"

The students were restless For weeks they had dreamed of leaving the mountain, whispering of the world beyond the jagged cliffs that hemmed them in Now, the possibility had a date Yet it wasn't theirs to claim Not directly Nero had said as much, most of them weren't ready

Jealousy and excitement tangled together

Rinnte said nothing, only trained harder, his focus sharpening with every passing hour Loretta seemed lost in thought, weighing her options, calculating how much further she needed to push herself before she would be acknowledged Eto masked her unease with a bright facade, but her lightning burned hotter each evening when she practiced Millis and Hella sneered, but behind their scowls was fear, if Rhyka left, if Nero left, where would that leave them

And Rhyka

He sat in his dojo, sharpening his curved blade, golden eyes half lidded, smirk tugging faintly at his lips The village buzzed with anticipation, but to him, it was already decided The caravan would come He would leave The world beyond the mountains was waiting

And somewhere out there, the Rank 5 beast's domain spread further every day

The night was bitter, the kind of cold that cut into bone and turned breath into fog The mountain winds screamed through the ridges, carrying with them a sharp edge that would have driven most villagers back indoors to huddle near their hearths

But on the outskirts of the village, three figures stood unmoving

Rhyka, Nero, and Emmet

The snow dusted stones beneath their boots crackled faintly with frost Their cloaks shifted lightly in the wind, but their bodies didn't shiver, didn't strain The cold didn't matter, not to them

Rhyka's golden eyes burned faintly in the dark, Martial Vision pulsing at the edges of his senses He could feel the movement of the caravan long before it came into view, the shuffle of boots, the grind of wheels, the nervous tension of beasts pulling heavy carts up the mountain path He stood calmly, arms folded across his chest, the half mask glinting faintly in the moonlight

Nero stood beside him, hands clasped neatly behind his back His pale face was calm, almost serene, though the air around him carried a quiet weight He looked every bit the noble, poised, calculating, above the ordinary chill of the night

And Emmet

Emmet's expression was composed, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed him A small smile, faint but genuine, tugged at his lips He wasn't smiling for the cold or the caravan itself He was smiling at the sight of the two boys, the magicless martial prodigy and the young noble already brushing against Rank 3, standing side by side The future was walking out of his village tonight

The caravan had not come when they said it would

That was deliberate

Merchants were wary of being cornered by desperate villagers or pleading students Every trip through the mountains was dangerous, every space on their wagons costly They didn't want to waste time rejecting a crowd of children begging for a seat And more importantly, they didn't need to

This caravan was about money, nothing more And Nero, with his noble's seal and his promises of reward, had already secured their loyalty Handsome coin now, with the possibility of greater wealth later, no merchant would refuse that

So the caravan had lied Told the villagers one date, and then arrived early, under cover of night

Rhyka wasn't bothered In fact, he preferred it that way The fewer eyes on his departure, the better

His belongings were packed neatly into a small spatial artifact slung at his side It wasn't much, an arsenal of weaponry, spare clothing, and little else Food wasn't a concern Not anymore

Ever since the detox of Martial Essence had burned through his body, he wasn't bound by ordinary limits Hunger and thirst came slower, far slower, and when they did, even scraps could sustain him Raw meat, spoiled fruit, bitter herbs, things that would sicken others barely touched him Poisons, at least the common kind, dissolved in his system like water He could feel it whenever he ate, his body wringing every ounce of nutrient, discarding everything else

Water, he could go a month without it Food, four months, maybe longer, but with consequences His body had become too efficient, too stubborn to die from something so mundane

He smirked faintly beneath the mask, watching his breath fade into the dark

The world ahead was vast, unknown, and merciless But he was ready

The crunch of approaching wheels echoed louder now, the faint glimmer of lanterns beginning to pierce the mist at the edge of the mountain road

The caravan had arrived