Ten days passed in Haven like water through cupped hands—precious, fleeting, impossible to hold. I spent them recovering, preparing, and learning everything I could about the next region Rikkard had promised to show me: the Shattered Peaks.
The city library was a modest building near the hunter's guild, filled with data terminals rather than physical books. I sat there for hours, reading about the mountain range that dominated Verdant's northern horizon. The peaks rose so high they pierced the clouds, their upper reaches shrouded in permanent mist. The air grew thin up there, they said. The cold could kill in minutes. And the creatures—Stone Beasts that looked like living rock, Wind Eagles with wingspans wider than houses, Cave Crawlers that nested in the darkness beneath the mountains.
But the rewards matched the risks. Superior-rank gene points. Rare beast souls. And for those brave enough to climb higher, rumors of Prime creatures dwelling in the highest peaks.
I wanted all of it.
Rikkard found me on my st day of preparation, his arm still wrapped in the healer's bandages but moving freely. The poison was gone, the wound healing cleanly. He looked at the gear spread across my rented room—ropes, pitons, thermal yers, preserved food—and nodded with something like approval.
"You actually prepare. Most beginners just charge in and die." He picked up a coil of rope, testing its strength. "The Peaks are different from the forest. Different from the river. Up there, the environment kills you before the creatures get a chance. Cold. Altitude. Rockslides. One wrong step and you fall a thousand meters."
"I've been reading."
"Reading isn't surviving." He dropped the rope. "I'll take you as far as the base camp. After that, you're on your own. I've got business in the eastern territories."
"Another hunt?"
"Information." His expression darkened. "About the things that attacked you before you woke up. The original Kaelen's st moments. Someone's been asking questions in the outposts, and I don't like the pattern."
I felt the warmth in my chest pulse—once, sharply, as if responding to his words. "What pattern?"
"Vukar scouts have been seen near the Whispering Depths. Same region where the original Kaelen was found. Same region where you..." He trailed off, studying me. "Where you appeared."
The implication hung in the air between us. Vukar. The alien species that had been fighting humanity for ninety-three years. If they were interested in the Whispering Depths, and if that interest coincided with my transmigration...
"Be careful," Rikkard said. "The Peaks are dangerous enough without worrying about alien conspiracies. Focus on surviving. Get stronger. Come back with Superior points and a few good souls. Then we'll talk about what comes next."
He left before I could ask more questions.
That night, the warmth pulsed stronger than ever. In my dreams, I saw the underground chamber again—the strange symbols, the crystal formation, the sense of something waiting. But this time, the voice was clearer:
Find us before they do. Find us before it's too te.
I woke gasping, my hand pressed to my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"What are you?" I whispered into the darkness.
No answer. Just the steady pulse of warmth, patient and eternal.
---
The journey to the Shattered Peaks took five days.
The Crimson Forest gradually thinned as we traveled north, the massive red trees giving way to smaller, hardier vegetation. The air grew cooler, crisper, carrying scents I didn't recognize—pine-like but sharper, mixed with minerals and something almost metallic. By the third day, we could see the peaks in the distance: jagged spires of gray and white that scraped the sky like cws reaching for heaven.
Rikkard set a brutal pace, pushing me harder than before. "The mountains will demand more than you have," he said when I compined. "Better to discover your limits here, where I can help, than up there, where I can't."
We hunted along the way, taking down Stalkers and Thornbacks that wandered too close to our path. My Evolved points crept upward: 34 to 41 to 47 to 52. By the time we reached the base camp, I was at 58 Evolved points—more than halfway to my next evolution.
The base camp was a small settlement huddled against the mountain's foot, protected by a high wall and guarded by hunters with hard eyes and ready weapons. Maybe two hundred people lived there permanently—guides, traders, healers, and the desperate souls who made their living from the mountain's dangers.
Rikkard introduced me to the camp master, a woman named Orin whose face was a roadmap of scars. "New climber," he told her. "First time. Basic Evolver with decent instincts. Needs a guide for the lower slopes."
Orin looked me over with the same assessment I'd seen from every veteran hunter. "He's small. Fast?"
"Fast enough."
"Smart?"
"Learning."
She grunted. "They all learn. Question is whether they learn fast enough." She jerked her head toward a path leading up the mountain. "Lower slopes are marked with red fgs. Don't go past the yellow fgs without a guide. Don't go past the bck fgs ever, unless you want to die." She turned away, conversation over.
Rikkard csped my shoulder. "This is where I leave you. Remember everything I taught you. Trust your instincts. And if you see anything—anything—that reminds you of the Whispering Depths, don't investigate. Come back down. Find me."
"What do you expect me to find?"
"I don't know. That's what worries me." He walked away without looking back.
I stood at the edge of camp, staring up at the mountain that would be my home for the next weeks. The lower slopes were green with hardy vegetation, but above that, bare rock took over. And above that, clouds hid the peaks from view.
Somewhere up there, Superior creatures waited. Somewhere up there, I would grow stronger—or die trying.
I started climbing.
---
The first day was exhausting in ways I hadn't anticipated.
The altitude hit me within hours, turning each breath into a conscious effort. My enhanced body handled it better than a normal human's would, but I still felt the effects—dizziness, lightheadedness, a constant pressure behind my eyes. The cold was manageable at first, but as the twin suns sank toward the horizon, it became a creeping enemy, seeping through my thermal yers, numbing my fingers and toes.
I found shelter in a small cave just as darkness fell—barely more than a depression in the rock face, but enough to block the wind. I ate cold rations, too exhausted to risk a fire, and huddled in my thermal bnket, watching my breath mist in the air.
The warmth in my chest pulsed steadily, keeping me warmer than I should have been. Another gift from whatever lived inside me.
I slept fitfully, dreaming of falling.
---
The second day, I found my first Stone Beast.
It was feeding on lichen that grew from a rock face, its massive body blending so perfectly with the stone that I nearly walked into it. Only my Gloomwing Eye's enhanced perception saved me—a slight shimmer in the air where heat escaped its rocky hide.
I froze, studying it. The creature was three meters long, low to the ground, with legs that looked like columns of granite and a head that seemed carved from the mountain itself. Its mouth worked slowly, grinding lichen with teeth that could crush my bones like twigs.
Superior-rank. Far above my level.
But I wasn't here to fight it. I was here to observe, to learn, to understand.
I retreated slowly, carefully, pcing each foot with agonizing precision. The Stone Beast never noticed me.
That evening, I recorded everything in my linker: appearance, behavior, location, estimated threat level. Knowledge was currency in the sanctuaries. This information would be valuable to other hunters—and to me, when I was strong enough to return.
---
The third day brought disaster.
I'd climbed higher than intended, following a promising trail that seemed to lead toward a nesting area I'd heard about from other climbers. Wind Eagles nested in the cliffs, they said. Killing one could yield Superior points and a chance at their souls—feathers that granted speed, eyes that saw for kilometers, talons that could tear through steel.
I wanted one. Badly.
The trail ended at a sheer rock face, too smooth to climb. I was studying it, looking for handholds, when I heard the sound—a low rumble, growing louder, coming from above.
Rockslide.
I ran. There was nowhere to go but back the way I'd come, down the narrow trail I'd just ascended. The rumble became a roar. Rocks the size of my fist began falling around me, then rger, then massive boulders that shook the mountain when they struck.
A rock hit my shoulder, spinning me around. Another caught my leg, and I fell, tumbling down the slope, pain exploding through my body. The world became chaos—rock and dust and terror, endless tumbling, then darkness.
---
I woke buried.
Not completely—my face was clear, and one arm was free. But the rest of my body was pinned under rubble, the weight crushing, suffocating. I couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
The warmth in my chest bzed.
Suddenly, I could feel every rock pressing against me, could sense the precise points of pressure, could understand exactly how they fit together. My free arm moved, finding a stone, pulling it loose. Then another. Then another.
I worked for hours, digging myself out with strength I didn't know I possessed. By the time I finally crawled free, the twin suns were setting again, and my body was a symphony of pain.
But I was alive.
I checked my wounds—deep bruises, possibly cracked ribs, a gash on my leg that was bleeding freely. I bandaged it as best I could, using the supplies in my pack. Then I found shelter, colpsed, and slept for twelve hours.
---
The fourth day, I limped back toward camp.
Every step hurt. My ribs screamed with each breath. My leg throbbed with a heat that suggested infection. But I kept moving, kept climbing down, kept surviving.
Halfway to camp, I found something unexpected.
A cave entrance, hidden behind a waterfall of melting snow. Not natural—the edges were too regur, too smooth. Carved.
I should have listened to Rikkard. Should have kept moving, ignored it, focused on survival. But the warmth pulsed urgently, insistently, pulling me toward that entrance.
I went in.
The cave was dark, but my Gloomwing Eye showed me enough. The walls were covered in symbols—the same symbols from my dreams. I traced them with my fingers, feeling the warmth surge with each touch.
A tunnel led deeper. I followed it, drawn by something I couldn't name. The symbols grew denser, more complex. The air grew warmer. And then—
The chamber.
It was massive, rger than anything I'd imagined. Crystals covered every surface, pulsing with soft light. And at the center, a formation that matched my dreams perfectly—seven crystal pilrs arranged in a circle, each one dark except...
One glowed.
The same warmth as in my chest. The same pulse. The same patient waiting.
I approached slowly, reverently. The glowing pilr was warm to the touch, humming with energy that resonated deep in my bones.
Found you, the voice whispered. Found you at st.
The warmth in my chest exploded outward, connecting with the pilr, and I saw—
A vision.
Ancient beings, tall and graceful, building something vast. Crystals being pced in a circle, power flowing between them. A darkness approaching—not creatures, but something worse, something from beyond reality. The beings fighting, dying, their civilization crumbling. And at the end, a voice:
Hide them. Hide the fragments. When the chosen one comes, they will find us. They will finish what we started.
The vision shattered.
I stood in the chamber, gasping, tears streaming down my face. I didn't understand what I'd seen, but I understood one thing: the warmth in my chest was connected to this pce. Connected to these crystals. Connected to an ancient civilization that had died long before humans ever discovered teleportation.
And I was the chosen one they'd waited for.
I stumbled out of the cave, my mind reeling. By the time I reached camp, I'd decided: I would tell no one about this. Not Rikkard. Not Lena. Not anyone.
Some secrets were too dangerous to share.
---
I spent another two weeks in the mountains.
The wounds healed faster than they should have—the warmth's gift, I suspected. I climbed higher, killed my first Stone Beast (with careful pnning and a lot of luck), and accumuted Superior points. By the time I descended to base camp, my stats showed:
Evolved Points: 100/100 (capped)
Superior Points: 23/100
New Beast Souls: Stone Beast Core (Superior, Tier 2), Wind Eagle Feather (Superior, Tier 1)
I was ready for my next evolution.
But more than that, I was ready for answers.
The warmth pulsed in my chest as I walked into camp, steady and patient. Waiting for the next step.
Waiting for me to find the next fragment.
---
END OF CHAPTER 5
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