NOVEL NEXT Chapter 25: A Glimpse of Sacrifice
The gaping mouth of the cave system, carved into the desolate plateau just beneath the mist-wreathed summit of the floating mountain, gave off an aura of ancient power and primal hunger that prickled at my skin. This was undoubtedly the Sky-Reaver's lair. Kaelen stood beside me. His opalescent fur was a soft glow in the diffuse, silvery light of this aerial realm. His amber eyes were fixed on the shadowy entrance with an unwavering, almost burning intensity. My own heart hammered a steady, heavy rhythm against my ribs — a mixture of profound apprehension and grim, focused anticipation. My Soul Ability, [Glimpse of a Path], thrummed with readiness. Its extended hour-and-a-half duration was a precious, invaluable window into the dangers that lay ahead.
"Alright, buddy," I murmured, resting a hand briefly on Kaelen's head. I felt the familiar warmth and the subtle vibration of his own contained energy more vividly now, our bond clearly seeming to have an effect. "Let's see what kind of welcome party awaits us in there."
I settled into a meditative focus, drawing upon the wellspring of my Spirit, and mentally called upon [Glimpse of a Path]. The world dissolved, not into darkness this time, but into a dizzying swirl of light and shadow. A brief sensation of falling, then reforming.
My visionary self stood at the entrance to the Sky-Reaver's den. The air within was surprisingly warm, almost humid, thick with the scent of ozone, something like burnt feathers, and a sharp, reptilian musk that stung my nostrils. The cave was vast, a colossal natural cavern enhanced by what looked like deliberate, if crude, digging; the walls were scarred with immense claw marks. Piles of bones, some picked clean and bleached white, others still bearing scraps of dried, leathery flesh from unrecognizable, often massive creatures, lay scattered across the uneven stone floor. In the center, a massive, nest-like depression, easily thirty feet across, was formed from interwoven branches of the tough, high-altitude trees, strange, flexible metallic sinews that glinted faintly, and glowing clumps of the phosphorescent moss that cast an eerie, pulsating green light. But the nest was empty.
A frown touched my lips. I moved deeper into the cavern, [True Sight] active, scanning every shadow, every recess. The ability painted the world in layers of detail: the faint energy signatures of the glowing moss, the mineral composition of the cave walls rich in some kind of conductive ore, the lingering traces of potent Essence from long-dead prey. Still no sign of the Apex Entity.
Patience. The vision was still young. I found a defensible alcove near the cave entrance, a shadowy recess shielded by a jutting spur of rock, and settled in to wait, observing. What felt like long, drawn-out minutes, perhaps close to twenty by my internal clock, passed within the Glimpse. The diffuse light from the cave mouth grew and faded with the slow passage of the suns across the endless sky outside, casting shifting shadows within the vast lair.
Then, a sound. A distant, powerful beat, like colossal sails snapping in a gale, or the thunder of giant wings. It grew louder, closer, a rhythmic whoosh-whoosh that vibrated in my chest. A vast shadow fell across the cave entrance, plunging the interior into deeper gloom. With a rush of displaced air that buffeted my visionary form and stirred the bone piles, the Sky-Reaver arrived.
It was magnificent, terrifying beyond words. Easily fifty feet from its razor-sharp beak to the tip of its bony, clubbed tail. Its wingspan was even greater, casting the entire central portion of the cavern into shadow. Its body was a lithe, serpentine column of rippling muscle and scales, the color of a thunderhead — deep blues, purples, and slate grays — that seemed to shift and shimmer with internal lightning as it moved. Its head was draconic, fiercely intelligent, with a wickedly hooked beak that could tear through steel and eyes like molten gold, burning with ancient fury. A crest of jagged, lightning-charged spines ran from its head down its powerful neck, crackling with visible arcs of electrical energy. My [True Sight] whispered a torrent of information: Stormwing Sky-Reaver – Tier 3 Apex Aerial Predator. It detailed its electrified talons capable of rending stone, a potent sonic screech that could shatter eardrums and disorient foes, and remarkable, rapid regenerative capabilities.
The Sky-Reaver landed with surprising grace for its immense size. Its massive talons gripped the edge of its nest, sending tremors through the floor. It surveyed its domain with an air of absolute authority, then settled down, its great head resting, its golden eyes half-lidded but alert. For several more minutes of the Glimpse, I watched it, studying its breathing, its subtle movements. Then, with Kaelen a shimmering, translucent phantom at my side, the visionary battle began.
I opened with my [Soulfire Lance]. The beam of incandescent, violet-tinged energy erupted from my hand, striking the Sky-Reaver square on its massive chest. It shrieked, a sound that vibrated the very stone of the mountain, a sound of pure agony and rage. A section of its scales blackened and cracked, showering sparks. Black smoke poured from the impact point. A direct hit, and a good one! But the beast was colossal; the hole, while deep and smoking, was like a pinprick to its overall mass. And even as I watched, the edges of the wound began to smoke and sizzle, new scales forming with astonishing, sickening speed. Its regeneration was indeed remarkable, far beyond anything I'd anticipated.
The Sky-Reaver launched itself into the air within the cavern, a terrifying tempest of fury and elemental power. My fireballs and Water Lances were like gnats against its storm-scale hide, hissing and evaporating harmlessly. Its electrical discharges, arcs of flashing lightning that leaped from its spines and talons, forced me to constantly use my [Aether-Woven Greaves'] [Fleetfoot Dash] and my [Flowing Step] skill to evade, draining my stamina at an alarming rate. Kaelen was a blur of opalescent light, teleporting with impossible agility, nipping at its flanks, trying to draw its attention. He'd land an opalescent energy pulse on a wing joint, and the Sky-Reaver would bellow, its movements momentarily faltering, giving me a chance to retaliate, to reposition.
During one such opening, I poured Mana into my spear, attempting a concentrated detonation on its already damaged wing. The resulting explosion ripped a larger gash, and it stumbled in the air, but still, it healed. Slower this time, but undeniably, inexorably healing. We fought a desperate, drawn-out battle of attrition within the Glimpse. I tried different tactics: focusing all fire on one wing, attempting to ground it; using my Wind Bolts to try and buffet it into cave walls; even trying to get Kaelen to teleport me onto its back for a direct strike at its spine crest — a spectacularly failed attempt that nearly got my visionary self incinerated by a point-blank lightning discharge that left my ears ringing and Kaelen exhausted.
Then, a miscalculation, a moment of overconfidence. I was focused on unleashing another [Soulfire Lance], trying to hit the same regenerating wound on its chest, believing I could overwhelm its healing. The Sky-Reaver, learning from our earlier exchanges, feigned an aerial dive, then spun with impossible speed. Its massive tail, tipped with that bony, lightning-wreathed club, swept out in a devastating arc. Kaelen, ever valiant, trying to intercept and create an opening near its head, was caught squarely by the attack.
He cried out, a sound of pure, sharp agony that ripped through my heart, a sound that echoed the cries from the day we had to leave his mother. He was flung like a broken doll against the far wall of the cavern. His shimmer dimmed dangerously, his small form terribly still.
My fury, that cold, soul-deep rage I'd felt when the Apex Sentinel had injured him, erupted again, tenfold. But even as I prepared to unleash everything I had, regardless of the cost to myself, the Sky-Reaver, seeing Kaelen momentarily downed, turned its full, terrifying attention on me. Its golden eyes blazed with a cruel, predatory triumph. A talon, wreathed in searing, white-hot lightning, slammed into my left side with the force of a meteor. Agony, absolute and overwhelming, exploded through me as I felt my arm torn from its socket within the Glimpse, my vision graying out, the taste of blood in my mouth, as the beast's massive, hooked beak descended towards my exposed throat…
I snapped back to my physical body with a choked gasp. The vividness of Kaelen's visionary "death" and my own brutal dismemberment was a raw, bleeding wound in my mind. I was shaking, drenched in cold sweat. My left arm throbbed with a phantom pain so intense it made me nauseous. Kaelen, sensing my distress, whined softly and nudged my hand. His real, warm presence was a stark contrast to the horror I'd just witnessed.
I knelt, pulling him close, burying my face in his soft, opalescent fur, trying to control my ragged breathing. "It… it didn't go well, buddy," I choked out, my voice hoarse. "That regeneration… it's insane. It's too fast. And it got you. Then it… it got me. Badly." I recounted the vision: the potency of my [Soulfire Lance] cancelled out by its sheer size and incredible healing factor, the futility of most of my other attacks, Kaelen's tragic, valiant sacrifice, my own inevitable, brutal end.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
When I finished, Kaelen looked up at me, his amber eyes surprisingly clear. A deep, resolute intelligence shone within them. He let out a soft chuff, then nuzzled my hand again, his gaze turning towards the ominous cave entrance. There was no fear in his eyes, only that familiar, burning determination I'd seen when he'd drawn his mother's killers in the sand. He then looked back at me, pointedly, and gave a sharp, impatient bark. The message was clear: So? We go.
"But… Kaelen, I saw what happened," I said, horrified by his apparent recklessness, the visionary death still so fresh. "Another week… Glimpse again… there has to be another way, a better plan…"
He shook his head, a distinctly human gesture of denial, then whined, a low, frustrated sound, and nudged my spear with his nose. He then looked back at the cave, his small body thrumming with that now-familiar anticipation. His intent radiated from him, fierce and unyielding: We fight now. Waiting is not an option. Mother did not wait when she opened the Rift. We do not wait. We adapt. We overcome. You saw a weakness, yes? A vulnerability?
My heart clenched. He was right, in his own fierce, Glimmerfox way. My path wasn't about perfect safety, about guaranteed victories. And I had seen something in those last horrifying moments of the vision, just before the final blow. The Sky-Reaver, when it unleashed its most powerful electrical attacks from its spinal crest, or when it reared back for its devastating sonic screech, briefly exposed a small, pulsating patch of softer, unscaled flesh beneath its throat, where its neck joined its massive chest. It was tiny, almost impossible to hit on a moving target of that size and speed. But if it were stationary, if its attention were utterly, completely fixed for even a crucial second…
"Alright," I said, a grim smile touching my lips as a desperate, audacious, all-or-nothing plan began to form. A plan that discarded a battle of attrition entirely. "Alright, Kaelen. Not a prolonged fight. But an ambush. A perfect, overwhelming ambush the moment it lands and settles. If my Veil holds until the last second, if you can create the mother of all diversions focused directly at its head the instant I strike, drawing its gaze upwards… we might just have one shot. One perfect shot with the [Soulfire Lance], aimed at that spot under its throat."
Taking one last deep breath, channeling the memory of that horrific visionary failure not as a deterrent, but as a razor-sharp focus, a blueprint of what not to do, we stepped towards the Sky-Reaver's den. This time, failure was not an option, because this time, there would be no second Glimpse to warn us, no retreat.
The cave was identical to my vision — the bone piles, the massive nest, the oppressive atmosphere. We found the same concealed alcove. Kaelen pressed close, his body a warm, reassuring presence against my leg. We waited. The minutes crawled by with agonizing slowness, each beat of my heart echoing the distant wingbeats I strained to hear. Then, the familiar, powerful beat of colossal wings, the rush of displaced air. The Sky-Reaver landed, its golden eyes sweeping the cavern, before settling into its nest with a gust of wind. Its guard was down, its posture relaxed, exposing that vulnerable patch for the briefest of moments as it settled.
This was our only chance.
"Now, Kaelen!" I projected the thought with all my will, pouring every ounce of my focus into the familiar feel of Mana gathering, but this time it was the wilder, deeper call of my soul's own fire, a focused inferno.
As Kaelen became a shimmering streak, teleporting with an explosive pop directly above and in front of the Sky-Reaver's head, unleashing a blinding barrage of opalescent energy pulses and furious, high-pitched yelps designed to draw its full attention upwards — a dazzling display of light and sound — I activated my [Aether-Woven Greaves]. [Fleetfoot Dash] propelled me from the alcove like a launched spear, my own spear discarded this time, my hand already gathering that incandescent, soul-deep power. The Sky-Reaver shrieked. Its head snapped up towards Kaelen's sudden, brilliant assault. Its throat was momentarily exposed, stretched taut in that upward tilt. It was the opening. Less than a second. An eternity.
I didn't hesitate. All my rage from the vision, all my fear for Kaelen, all my desperate focus poured into the forming [Soulfire Lance], shaping it with a speed and intensity I hadn't known I possessed. It erupted from my palm, not as a dispersed blast, but as a hyper-condensed, needle-thin beam of pure, annihilating white energy, infused with the violet tint of my deepest soul, striking that small, vulnerable patch of flesh beneath its throat.
The Sky-Reaver convulsed violently. A sound like a mountain cracking, like thunder trapped in a bottle, tore from its beak — far louder, more terrible than in the vision. Its own lightning discharges flared wildly, uncontrolled, blasting chunks from the cave ceiling, showering us with rock and dust. The wing, the one I'd targeted so uselessly in the Glimpse, spasmed. It tried to rise, to scream, but the [Soulfire Lance], though small, had pierced something vital, searing through to its core. The light in its golden eyes flickered, dimmed, then extinguished. Then, with a final, shuddering sigh that echoed like a dying storm, it collapsed. Its massive form shook the very foundations of the mountain, dead before it hit the ground.
Silence, broken only by my own ragged breathing and Kaelen's triumphant, if slightly breathless, yips as he teleported to my side, nuzzling my hand with surprising force.
A torrent of potent Primal Essence, far greater than anything I'd experienced before, richer and more vibrant even than the Apex Sentinel's, surged into me, a rejuvenating flood. And the Prime System's interface blazed to life, its light almost blinding in the sudden gloom of the silenced lair.
[Gauntlet of Ascension – Level Two: The Sky-Reaver's Roost – Cleared. Apex Entity Neutralized.]
[Denizen Tier Assessment: Tier 3 Stormwing Sky-Reaver (Apex Variant – Elder Stage). Commendation: Exceptional tactical innovation and flawless execution of high-risk/high-reward strategy demonstrated against a significantly superior opponent. User potential re-evaluated.]
[Available Reward Options (Select One):]
[- [Heart of the Tempest] (Legendary Crafting Material – Description: The crystallized elemental core of an Elder Stormwing Sky-Reaver, resonating with potent atmospheric, electrical, and raw kinetic energies. Essential for crafting high-tier storm-aspected artifacts, empowering advanced Golemancy constructs with aerial capabilities, or as a primary catalyst for weather-manipulation rituals.)]
[- [Sky-Reaver's Downwind Cloak] (Epic Light Armor – Tier 3 Cloak. Description: Woven from the molted primary feathers of a Sky-Reaver, imbued with its natural affinity for air currents and subtle electrical resistance. Significantly reduces wind resistance, enhances stealth in open environments by mimicking air patterns, and grants the wearer a limited ability to glide short distances or cushion falls.)]
[- [Five (5) Vials of Concentrated Tier 3 Primal Essence] (Rare Cultivation Resource – Pure, refined Primal Essence harvested from an Elder Stage Tier 3 Apex Variant. Can be directly assimilated to significantly boost core attributes or fuel advanced enchantments/item upgrades.)]
My gaze was drawn to the [Heart of the Tempest]. Another Legendary crafting material, like the [Aegis of the Obsidian Heart] and the [Rune-Etched Sentinel Heartstone]. The thought of combining these three potent, unique cores… the potential for a truly formidable guardian for [The Veiled Path], or perhaps something else entirely, some personal empowerment, was immense. The cloak was tempting, offering much-needed mobility and stealth, but the Heart felt more foundational, more aligned with my long-term plans for Sanctum security and creating powerful constructs.
"I choose the [Heart of the Tempest]," I said, my voice raspy. A pulsating, crystalline orb, the size of my two fists, crackling with miniature lightning and swirling with captured wind, materialized before me. Its energy made the air around it hum.
The interface shifted again.
[Gauntlet Level Two Complete. Do you wish to proceed immediately to Gauntlet Level Three: 'The Silent Crypts of Nur-Hazzan'? Estimated minimum entry viability: Tier 4 fully integrated attributes, advanced multi-elemental spell repertoire, and mastery of at least one specialized combat doctrine.]
Tier 4. Even with the Primal Essence from the Sky-Reaver about to be cultivated, I was nowhere near that level of comprehensive power. And that last fight, even with the Glimpse's horrifying lesson and Kaelen's invaluable aid, had been a knife's edge. Success hinged on a single, perfectly executed, desperate gamble fueled by rage and luck as much as skill.
"No, System," I said firmly, weariness finally settling deep into my bones. My adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a profound exhaustion. I looked at Kaelen, who though visibly excited by our victory, was also clearly feeling the strain of our desperate battle, his shimmering fur slightly dimmer. "We're done here. For now. It's time to go home and cultivate."
We had pushed our limits, danced on the razor's edge of oblivion, and emerged stronger, victorious. But the Gauntlet of Ascension, it seemed, had many more lessons, and many more perils, waiting in its deeper levels. For now, consolidation and growth were most important.