Martial Demons Ascension

The camp had settled into a restless quiet. Merchants whispered around their wagons, glancing toward the treeline every few breaths as if the mist might spit out more of those twisted hounds at any moment. The Rank 3 mercenaries were huddled together a short distance away, speaking in low voices, their eyes flicking toward Rhyka and Cerys now and then.

Rhyka ignored them. He cleaned his spear with deliberate slowness, the smirk fixed on his lips even as the memory of tearing the first beast apart still gnawed at his chest. His mask didn't slip not here, not in front of them.

But when Nero stood and walked past the firelight, heading toward the darker edge of the clearing, Rhyka rose without a word and followed.

They didn't speak until they were well away from the camp, where the mist thickened and the sounds of the others faded.

Nero stopped near a fallen log, pale eyes gleaming faintly in the half-light. He turned, hands clasped behind his back, and studied Rhyka with that calm, aristocratic detachment.

"You really don't care what they think of you, do you?" Nero asked at last, his tone quiet but edged with curiosity.

The fog was thick enough here that the light of the campfires didn't reach. It was quiet too eerily so. Not even the chirping of night insects carried into this pocket of the forest, as though the land itself was holding its breath.

Rhyka leaned back against the trunk of a gnarled pine, arms folded, his golden eyes burning faintly under the moonlight that struggled through the mist. Nero stood across from him, hands clasped behind his back, his pale complexion ghostlike in the haze.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Rhyka broke the silence.

"I'll tell you something." His tone was casual, but his gaze was sharp, testing. "And you're not gonna hear it from anyone else."

Nero arched a brow. "Go on."

Rhyka smirked faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "First off, that girl—Cerys. She's full of shit. Calls herself a close-range fighter, but she stood back the whole time. Wind javelins, wind bullets, keeping her hands clean while I did the real work."

Nero tilted his head, expression unreadable.

"She let me fight them," Rhyka continued, his voice tightening. "On purpose. Three Rank 3 beasts. And she wanted to see what I'd do."

There was heat in his words now, though his smirk didn't waver. "She's hiding her hand. And when someone hides their hand in a fight like that, it means they're not to be trusted."

Nero's lips curved faintly, like he'd expected that answer.

Rhyka's gaze sharpened. "And that wasn't the only thing."

He lifted his hand, curling his fingers as though trying to grasp something in the mist. "There's… a void out there. In my perception. A hollow space, a patch of nothing in the lattice. No movement, no intent, no flow. A patch of nothing in a large web… emptiness. Everything around it lights up. But not it."

Nero's eyes flickered at that just for a moment.

Rhyka noticed.

"It's still there," Rhyka pressed, his voice low. "Didn't move. Didn't change. I don't like it. And I don't believe for a second it's natural."

Nero didn't answer immediately. His face remained calm, his posture perfect, but there was a strange tension in his stillness.

Rhyka stepped forward, golden eyes narrowing. "You know something."

For the first time, Nero's composure cracked not with worry, but with excitement. His lips curved into a smile, sharper, more alive than Rhyka had seen on him before.

"You've seen it," Nero said softly, almost to himself. His pale eyes gleamed, reflecting the faint gold of Rhyka's. "Of course you have."

Rhyka frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Nero didn't answer directly. Instead, he chuckled low, quiet, but laced with something that made the hairs on Rhyka's neck rise. "You really are different. I thought Emmet was exaggerating. But no… you've stepped onto a path most men never even glimpse."

Just like that person Nero thought to himself

Rhyka's smirk returned, but it was thinner now, more defensive. "I didn't say I stepped onto anything. Just said there's something out there."

Nero's eyes didn't leave his. "And you didn't tell anyone else?"

"Of course not," Rhyka snapped. His voice was sharp, prideful, but beneath it was caution. "That kind of thing isn't something you hand out for free. Not to them. Not to anyone."

"Good." Nero's smile widened. He almost looked… delighted. "Keep it that way. Knowledge like that? It's worth more than gold. Worth more than blood."

Rhyka didn't like the way he said it. Didn't like the hunger in Nero's tone, or the gleam in his pale eyes.

But before he could press, another memory surfaced one that made his face twitch despite his control.

"And then there's the other thing."

Nero blinked.

Rhyka exhaled through his nose, scratching the back of his neck with exaggerated nonchalance. "The other night. When the others… weren't in the room."

It clicked instantly. Nero stiffened, a faint flush touching his pale cheeks. "You… saw?"

Rhyka's smirk turned sharp, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of embarrassment. "Didn't just see. My senses are sharper now. I heard. I felt. Every movement. Every sound." He grimaced, shaking his head. "You've got no idea how bad it is when you can't shut it out."

Nero coughed once, his composure visibly shaken for the first time since they'd met. "...That's hardly relevant."

Rhyka barked a low laugh, the tension easing for a second. "Relevant or not, I'm not telling the others. They'd never let you live it down."

Nero cleared his throat, regaining control. "Good. Best for everyone if you don't."

The two of them fell into silence again, but it wasn't empty this time. It was thick, weighted.

Rhyka studied Nero's face, the faint blush still lingering, the strange excitement he'd shown when the void was mentioned.

"You knew something about that emptiness," Rhyka said finally, his tone quieter, more pointed. "You're not telling me."

Nero met his gaze, calm once more. "Not yet."

Rhyka's smirk returned, but his golden eyes stayed cold. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But when it shows itself… don't expect me to save you."

Nero's lips curved faintly, his voice a whisper that lingered in the fog.

"Don't worry. I won't need saving."

"Hey Nero you're pretty suspicious you know that right said Rhyka with a sneer."