The Convergent Path (Reincarnation/LitRPG)

The fourth day dawned harsh, Mount Veyra's peak clawing at a sky streaked with iron-gray clouds like talons raking flesh. Fin woke in his hollow, breath fogging in rhythmic puffs before his face. His mana stirred unbidden, the mana crackling faintly within his core, too bright, too eager for his liking. The sensation reminded him of a caged hawk he'd once seen at a merchant's caravan, wings beating against confinement, desperate for release.

He stamped out the fire's embers methodically, crushing each coal beneath his boot until only gray ash remained. Fin shouldered his worn pack, feeling the canvas scrape against fresh scabs on his shoulder, and scanned the trail ahead with Electromagnetic Perception. The passive skill had such a quality change since the mana pool. The world transformed into a mosaic of mana signatures and flows. No signatures nearby, no students, no beast, just the mountains restless mana, swirling thicker now, like a storm held in check by invisible bonds.

Jaren's ambush and Neela's probing questions had sharpened his caution to a razor's edge. No more risks, no more eyes. The trail wound through a forested slope ahead, pines gnarled and sparse, their needles a brittle carpet underfoot. Fin moved deliberately, veering off-path when distant signatures flickered at the edge of his perception, students, their mana faint so different from the chaotic energy of wild beasts.

Nervous laughter echoed once from a switchback below, too close for comfort. Fin slipped behind a boulder, breathing shallow, waiting until their steps faded. Listening. Three sets of footfalls. Heavy boots, light steps, and something halfway between, most likely three people teaming up to finish the final leg. The waiting was the hardest part. Fin had never been the patient type, but survival had a way of teaching lessons that stuck.

The changes to his mana frightened him, if he was honest with himself. The power was almost too much for him too control.

When the voices faded completely, Fin emerged, keeping to the shadows beneath the gnarled pines. The day blurred into a grinding climb, rock scrambles across limestone faces worn smooth by centuries of wind, wind-lashed ridges where he had to crouch to avoid being blown off the mountain entirely, air thinning until each breath burned in his lungs like he was inhaling embers. The higher he climbed, the more the mountain's mana density increased, pressing against his skin with almost physical weight.

Near midday, his perception tingled a warning, and Fin froze mid-step. Twenty meters to his left, partially concealed behind a rock outcropping, a wind serpent's lair gaped in the mountainside. Its hiss carried on the breeze, a warning his perception had caught early. The creature's signature was a roiling, cyclonic pattern, High Tier Two at least. He backed away slowly, circling wide around the danger. He loved a fight, but he needed to preserve his stamina.

An hour later, he avoided a salamander with the same caution. Even the smaller creatures had grown more dangerous.

As he climbed higher, things shifted even more. Fin ate sparingly during brief rests, tough jerky that tasted of salt and smoke, dried berries that burst tart and sweet on his tongue. His pack grew lighter with each meal, rations dwindling faster than planned. The delays to avoid other climbers had cost him time and supplies.

The peak loomed closer now, its snow-capped crown reflecting the sun, but exposure threatened with every step.

Dusk fell with the sudden swiftness of mountain evenings, the temperature plummeting as shadows lengthened across the slopes. Fin found a shallow cave carved into the mountainside, its mouth partially shielded by a ridge of jagged rock, natural concealment, good defensibility, low signature visibility. Perfect. He built a small fire at the cave's rear, where the flames would be invisible from outside, gathering dry branches and arranging them in the cross-stack pattern the wilderness training had drilled into him. The fire sparked to life beneath his flint, flames snapping against the cold, casting flickering shadows across rough stone walls.

He wrapped his cloak tight around his shoulders, the worn fabric fraying at the edges after all of the fights and the hectic climb. His tantō lay beside him, its blade gleaming in the firelight, forged from a fragment of the boss ant's leg after that first dungeon run with his brother. The memory brought both warmth. He wondered what Kilian was up to now. Probably out on a few dungeon runs with his party.

Sleep came fast, exhaustion dragging him down into darkness, but dreams seized him without warning, a vision, as vivid as the last had been. He stood in a shattered city, spires of glass and stone crumbling under a sky torn by lightning. Streets cracked and buildings swayed, people fleeing in waves of panicked motion. Above it all, a lightning mage hovered, cloaked in black robes that whipped about in a self-created storm. The mage's hands were raised, fingers splayed as though conducting a symphony of destruction. Bolts rained down at their command, each strike precise, leveling towers and defensive walls with methodical purpose. Streets erupted in ash and screams where the lightning touched, leaving nothing but rubble and silence in its wake.

The mage turned slowly in the air, and their eyes met Fin's, cold, unyielding, with pupils that glowed the same electric blue as the lightning they commanded. Recognition flashed in those inhuman eyes, and a whisper cut through the cacophony of destruction, sinking into Fin's mind like a blade between ribs: "Power reshapes worlds. Remember."

Fin woke gasping, heart hammering painfully against his ribs, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold. The fire had burned down to glowing coals, casting the cave in a dim red light. His hand had found his tantō in sleep, knuckles white around the hilt. As his breathing steadied, Fin became aware of a presence at the cave's edge, amber eyes glowed in the darkness, unblinking and eerily intelligent. The black kitten sat perfectly still, wings folded against its small back, staring with unnerving intensity.

"What are you?" Fin whispered, his voice cracking from disuse and the mountain's dry air.

He reached out one hand, but the kitten turned with deliberate slowness, striding into the darkness beyond the firelight. By the time Fin scrambled to his feet, it was gone, vanished into the night as though it had never existed. He stood at the cave's entrance, scanning with his perception, but detected nothing, no signature, no trace of mana, not even footprints in the dust.

Questions burned in his mind as he settled back by the dying fire. What was the creature? An Elemental's scout? Something older, more primal to the mountain itself? And the visions, were they warnings, premonitions, or something else entirely? His mana thrummed beneath his skin, restless and eager, responding to his agitation with crackling energy that he had to consciously suppress. Eventually, exhaustion reclaimed him, but his sleep remained shallow and alert, like a predator's rest.

Day five broke with sleet, icy needles driving horizontally on a biting wind that found every gap in Fin's clothing. The trail ahead transformed into a slick nightmare of ice-coated stone and treacherous drops. He moved faster now, necessity overriding caution, perception stretched wide to dodge other climbers. A Year Two's signature flared downslope around mid-morning, the pattern distinctive enough that he recognized Neela. Fin detoured up a sheer outcrop to avoid crossing her path, fingertips bleeding anew as he found purchase on rough stone.

The last thing he needed was her following him. He could already feel himself losing patience with her.

He wove through a boulder field strewn across the mountainside like a giant's discarded toys, sidestepping the cool, predatory of a shadow wolf pack denning in the recesses between stones. Their howls echoed mournfully as he passed, but they made no move to pursue.

Midday brought a moment of pause when a wind hawk screeched overhead, its Tier Three mana core crackling brilliantly against the slate-gray sky. Fin ducked under a rocky ledge. The hawk circled twice, hunting, its keen senses probing for mana fluctuations that would betray prey. Only when it banked westward, pursuing some other target, did Fin emerge, breathing hard.

The mountain's mana grew increasingly thick as he climbed higher, the air heavy with elemental energy. The density reminded him of swimming in the deepest lake on Earth, pressure mounting, movements slowed, every action requiring more effort than it should.

He pushed his body hard, legs burning with exertion, lungs straining in the thin air. Convergent Equilibrium, eased the physical strain somewhat, being pushed far beyond its current capabilities. It helped but did nothing for the growing dread that weighed on him. The visions. The kitten.

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By dusk, he reached a high ledge jutting from the mountainside, offering a narrow refuge from the howling wind. The peak's jagged silhouette stood sharp against a sky painted in violent purples and deepening blues, stars beginning to emerge like scattered diamond dust. It was close now, perhaps a day's climb at most. Fin built a small fire in a protected crevice, shielding it from view with his body, and ate the last of his dried fruit, savoring the sweetness on his tongue. The tantō lay across his knees as he rested, its weight familiar and reassuring.

Sleep ambushed him like a skilled opponent, pulling him under before he could properly prepare. Another vision gripped his unconscious mind, a vast plain stretching to the horizon, brown grasses rippling under an angry sky. Beasts swarmed across the landscape, thousands strong, a living tide of chitin and fur and scales. Claws and fangs gleamed in the strange half-light, creatures larger than houses moving with unnatural coordination, as though guided by a single intelligence.

At the plain's center stood a lone figure, a mage robed in silver that caught the light like polished mirror. Her hands rose slowly, deliberately, and lightning arced from her fingertips, not wild and chaotic as storm-lightning, but precise, controlled, a network of brilliant white energy that spread across the sky like a spider's web. The web descended, connecting with the horde in a thousand points of contact. In a blinding flash, the beasts were simply... gone. Not destroyed, not burned, but erased, leaving only scorched earth and silence.

The silver-robed mage turned, her face ageless and serene, looking directly at Fin as though aware of his presence in the vision. Her eyes held the same electric blue as the black-robed destroyer's had, but tempered with something else, wisdom, perhaps, or terrible purpose. Her voice resonated not through air but through his very being: "Power breaks tides. Remember."

Fin jolted awake, sweat on his skin despite the night's biting chill, to find the kitten's amber eyes watching him once more. It sat beyond the dying fire, perfectly still, tail wrapped neatly around tiny paws. Its gaze held his for several heartbeats of tense silence, then it stood with feline grace, turned, and strode purposefully away, vanishing into the pre-dawn mist that clung to the mountainside.

His chest tightened painfully, each vision seeming like a warning or a promise, each appearance of the winged kitten another piece of a puzzle he couldn't yet see in full. The dream images lingered, burning in his mind: a city destroyed, a horde erased, power wielded with devastating consequence. And always those eyes, that electric blue, so similar to the color his own.

Fin rose stiffly, muscles protesting after hours on cold stone, and stamped out the fire's last embers. The peak waited, close enough now that its presence felt like a physical weight pressing down on him. He adjusted his pack and resumed his ascent as the eastern sky lightened to pearl.

Day six dawned heavy with portent, the air so dense with mana it pressed against Fin's skin like water, slowing his movements, making each step a deliberate act of will. His perception buzzed constantly, overloaded by the mountain's energy, the background hum now a roar in his bones that threatened to drown out all other sensory input. He had to repeatedly dial back his sensitivity, sacrificing range for clarity, just to function.

The trail become near-vertical, bare rock faces with minimal handholds, no vegetation to speak of, just wind and stone stretching upward. He moved carefully, methodically, hyperaware of his solitude. Signatures of other climbers had grown scarce, either students had reached the peak already or turned back in the face of increasing difficulty.

Mid-morning, as he hauled himself onto a narrow ledge, his perception screamed a warning, a massive signature, dense and unyielding, surging suddenly from a crevice in the cliff face ahead. The stone itself seemed to bulge outward, then crack, revealing a hulking form that pulled itself free of the mountain as though being born from the rock.

A stone golem, high Tier Two by the density of its mana core, its body a hulking mass of granite segments fitted together with surprising precision. Ten meters tall at least, it straightened to its full height, eyes glowing red with mana-forged life, its proportions those of a warrior sculpted by someone with only theoretical knowledge of human anatomy. Massive fists like boulders clenched and unclenched, each movement accompanied by the grinding of stone against stone. It blocked the trail completely, its bulk leaving no space to maneuver around.

Fin drew his tantō, the familiar weight of the hilt doing little to calm his racing heart. No way around, only through. He'd faced Tier Twos, but always with room to maneuver, always with options. Here, on the narrow ledge with sheer drops on either side, his choices narrowed to one: fight.

The golem's head swiveled toward him with mechanical precision, those glowing eyes fixing on his position. It stood motionless for three of Fin's rapid heartbeats, as though assessing, then charged with shocking speed, moving faster than its bulk should have allowed. Its right fist swung down in a devastating arc, aimed to pulverize.

Fin dove left, feeling the rush of displaced air as the fist slammed into the ledge where he'd stood, stone splintering with a sound like thunder. He slashed at the golem's extended arm as he rolled past, his tantō sparking uselessly against the creature's granite hide.

Thunderfang activated, lightning coating the tantō in a crackling sheath of electricity, but when he struck again, the golem's stone body simply absorbed the charge, the energy dissipating through its mass without visible effect. Fin cursed under his breath, ducking another swipe that would have taken his head off, then darting between the creature's legs in a desperate gambit.

Scientific Warfare came alive pointing out the weak points of the creature. He struck at the joints where stone plates met. The tantō bit deeper there, creating slight cracks in the golem's hide, but nothing that significantly impaired its movement. The creature pivoted with unnerving speed, one massive hand sweeping backward to catch him. Fin leaped aside, but not quickly enough, stone grazed his shoulder with bruising force, pain blooming sharp and immediate. He landed awkwardly, nearly losing his balance on the narrow ledge, heart hammering as he realized how close he'd come to being knocked into open air.

He couldn't hold back, not against this. The golem advanced again, fist raised for another crushing blow, and Fin made his decision. He poured mana into Thunderfang, not the controlled trickle he normally allowed himself, but a flood, drawing deep on the enhanced reserves the pool had granted him. The tantō blazed white-hot in his hand, lightning crawling up his arm, dancing across his shoulders, illuminating the ledge with harsh, blue-white light.

Fin leaped, channeling power through his legs to enhance the jump, and slashed at the golem's chest where a core of brighter energy pulsed beneath the stone. His blade connected, lightning exploding inward along the cracks his previous strikes had created, seeking the creature's mana heart. The golem staggered, cracks spiderwebbing across its torso, but even as it faltered, one massive arm swept sideways.

The blow caught Fin's blade mid-strike, the force of it jarring up his arm like a hammer against anvil. The tantō, forged from the boss ant's leg, a gift from his brother, a memory of their first dungeon together, groaned under the impact, a sound like heartbreak, then shattered. Blade fragments scattered across the ledge like broken promises, leaving Fin holding nothing but the hilt and a jagged shard barely the length of his palm.

Fin dropped the hilt and extended both hands, palms outward, abandoning all pretense of conventional technique. No blade, no forms, just Thunderfang's full might channeled through flesh and will alone. Lightning erupted from his hands in a concentrated beam, white-hot and screaming, striking the golem's core directly through the cracks his previous assault had created. The creature froze mid-motion as electricity surged through its internal structure, superheating the mana matrices that gave it life.

For a breath, nothing happened, then the golem's chest exploded outward, fragments of stone raining across the ledge and into the void beyond. Its limbs went slack, the glow fading from its eyes, and it collapsed backward with a sound like a minor avalanche, dissolving into a pile of ordinary rubble. Silence fell, heavy and sudden.

Fin stared at his hands, still crackling with residual energy, then at the hilt of his tantō lying amid stone dust. He picked it up reverently, running a thumb over the worn grip wrapping, feeling the emptiness where the blade should have been. The pain of that loss cut deeper than the physical wounds of the fight, but he shoved the feeling down, pocketing the hilt as a reminder.

The trail waited. He climbed in silence, exhaustion settling into his bones, blood slowly drying on his torn sleeve, mana too loud within him, no longer contained, no longer hidden, but flowing wild through channels expanded beyond their natural capacity. The peak loomed just above, so close he could taste its magnetic energy on the back of his tongue, bitter and sharp.

Hours blurred together, more rock faces, stronger wind that threatened to tear him from his precarious handholds, mana so thick it blurred his vision with constant ethereal static. Fin had steeled himself for chaos at the summit, mana storms perhaps, elemental manifestations, other students engaged in desperate competition for Imprints. But as he hauled himself over the final ridge, muscles screaming in protest, chest heaving in the thin air, he froze in disbelief at what awaited him.

Silence greeted him, absolute and profound, the air still as glass despite the howling winds that had buffeted him moments before. The peak's broad expanse spread before him, a roughly circular plateau of stone smoothed by eons of elemental forces, unmarked save for delicate traceries of frost that formed geometric patterns across its surface. No storms raged here, no students competed, just the peak's bare face, empty and waiting.

Empty except for a single figure at its center.

The black kitten sat perfectly still, wings folded neatly against its back, amber eyes locked on his with unwavering focus. It didn't move, didn't meow, just watched with that unsettling intelligence, as if it had always known he would come, as if it had guided his path to this moment through dreams and appearances. As if it had been waiting for him all along.