Death Mountain (2)
The Hei Ye Regiment ruled the city precisely at Haven's center.
Sirka, its leader, was lost in deep thought.
'Death Mountain's terrain keeps changing... Does that even make sense?'
From her subordinate's report, the mountain's landscape was shifting nonstop.
It was already deadly—sharp as blades everywhere, even standing still—but entering meant exposure to utterly unpredictable hazards as the terrain warped.
'Mysteries like this usually signal some fateful opportunity or...'
Sirka stroked her chin, deep in contemplation.
Such phenomena were typically tied to ancient ruins, potent magic artifacts, or rare strokes of fortune.
But she doubted it. She'd scouted every inch of Death Mountain and knew no such boon existed.
'None until I checked, then suddenly one pops up? Ridiculous.'
Sirka rose from her seat.
"I'll check it myself."
Her subordinate, head still bowed, spoke cautiously.
"I'll come with you."
"No. I'm going alone."
Sirka shook her head firmly.
"If the terrain's really shifting, we'd just scatter anyway. You'd only get in my way."
The subordinate fell silent. Sirka's call was spot-on.
Sirka bolted from her office, bounding across rooftops at blinding speed.
City limits behind her, Death Mountain's colossal silhouette loomed ahead.
Obviously no ordinary peak.
Every leaf edged like a razor; even a whisper of wind set them clashing with metallic shrieks.
Rocks stabbed skyward like titanic blades, streams between them glinting silver-sharp in the light.
'Totally different.'
Yet amid the savage vista, Sirka spotted anomalies.
Familiar, yet altered—like new monolithic pillars, or absent trees that should stand firm.
'Who's behind this fun little game?'
Young among captains—not childish like Ellis, but still—she relished the twist.
'Bored out of my skull. Perfect timing.'
Sirka's lips curled in a feral grin.
Tired of rote domain drudgery, this chaos thrilled her blood.
"Gonna toy with the culprit—lop off their limbs nice and slow."
"Odd. No reply."
Baekseol ventured carefully.
Communication crystals weren't handy like phones—primitive, mana-linked only for those who'd exchanged essence—but effective enough.
Sirka's domain: the Black Domain.
Death Mountain skirted its edge; protocol demanded Sirka's nod to enter.
"What now?"
"Sirka's temperament?"
Baekseol pondered, then replied.
"Hmm... Kind, but twisted somehow?"
'Twisted.'
Sirka was a cipher to me.
Game minor role; at Tian Yi Hui, just glares of disdain—no chit-chat.
"Twisted how?"
"Hmm... Latches onto odd fixations, pursues relentlessly. Say someone trespasses: she hunts days, captures..."
"Then?"
"Severs limbs one by one. Heals, repeats... till bored. Otherwise, she's sweet."
Ria blanched at Baekseol's deadpan tale.
'Limb-carver in the 'sweet' bin?'
I sighed inwardly.
"No choice. We reached out; they ghosted. Head to Sirka's domain."
'She wouldn't hack off a peer captain's limbs... right?'
Frostheim to Black Domain: five days burned.
The domain embodied darkness incarnate.
'Straight out of dark fantasy lit.'
Black stone edifices everywhere, spires stabbing skyward.
Window glows: eerie blue, not warm orange—chilling vibe.
Denizens glided streets unlike village folk.
Darkness comforted them; whispers, muted murmurs.
"Straight to Sirka. I've been; I know the way."
Baekseol led to the heart.
Sirka's castle: chaotic, unnatural.
Knights scrambling—faces grim, no orderly ranks.
'Trouble brewing.'
Grabbed nearest knight to query—but gate sentry spotted us.
"Lady Baekseol!"
Middle-aged butler in black tails hurried over.
Recognized her, bowed deep.
"Long time, Lady Baekseol. To what do we owe?"
"Hello, Bernard."
Baekseol nodded.
Bernard's gaze shifted to me.
"Astra, Jin Gang leader."
He bowed swiftly.
"Forgive me! Unrecognized Lord Astra—inexcusable."
"Fine. Escort to Sirka."
Bernard's face fell.
"Impossible... now."
"Explain. She's gone?"
Bernard hesitated, sighed heavy.
"Week ago, to Death Mountain. No return. Comms dead."
'A week?'
Glanced at Baekseol.
Silence that long screamed trouble.
"Death Mountain? Why?"
"Sudden terrain shifts. Minor at first... escalated. She went personally."
Worry laced Bernard's tone.
"Week gone. Searched?"
"Yes. Knight squads—multiple."
Face ashen.
"Couldn't hold. Half dead, rest grave wounds. Searches halted."
'Already triggered?'
Head spun.
Game: drastic shifts mid-late story.
Not now...
"See the wounded knights. Need Death Mountain firsthand."
Hope lit Bernard's features.
"You... going yourself, Lord Astra?"
"Yes. Status check on Sirka. Here for the mountain anyway."
'Not this dire.'
"Grateful! This way. Infirmary."
Bernard guided.
Desperation clung to his back.
'Cares deeply for her.'
Infirmary corridor: Baekseol sidled close, quiet.
"Astra, real trouble at Death Mountain? Week missing..."
Confusion thick in her voice.
Hard to grasp for her.
Perilous peak, sure—but threaten Hei Ye's head? Unthinkable.
If my hunch held, Sirka imperiled too.
"Direct look... but ominous, certain."
Moments later: vast infirmary.
Door swung: herbs, antiseptics assaulted nose.
Dozens beds; over half packed with maimed knights.
Bandage mummies; coma sprawls.
"Window knight: latest return. Aware, verbal."
Approaching: bedridden knight craned neck, strained.
"Bernard..."
"Respect. Lady Baekseol of Bai Ling, Lord Astra of Jin Gang."
Knight's eyes bulged horrorstruck. Lurch to kneel, agony be damned.
"Stay down."
Baekseol soothed serene.
Advanced, hand aloft.
White aura bloomed from fingertips.
Frost-flower mana softly blanketed the room.
"Eh...?"
"Wounds... fading?"
"Healing!"
Gasps erupted.
Lesions knit visibly; coma eyes fluttered open.
Why she helms Bai Ling.
Ice might alone formidable; twisted to absurd heals.
'Game: her heals broken. Ice essence to vitality—unique.'
"Thanks, Lady Baekseol! Eternal debt!"
Window knight teared up, grateful.
Others rose, heads bowed.
"Please. Death Mountain first."
Baekseol even-keeled.
'Death Mountain' dropped: faces contorted.
"Urgh...!"
Seizure spasms.
Baekseol palm to brow swift.
Coolth quelled the fit.
"Easy. Slow."
"Death Mountain— what's unfolding?"
I advanced.
Knight peered terror-wide.
"That place... hell."