Chapter 115
The forest stretched before them, endless and green, the morning light filtering through the canopy in shafts of gold.
The road back to the Hidden City of Sky was longer than the route they had taken to reach Eldoria—Ethan had chosen it deliberately, avoiding the mountain passes where demons had gathered, sticking to the lowlands where the only dangers were beasts and bandits and the long, slow days of travel.
They moved at an easy pace, conserving their strength, letting the miles pass beneath their feet.
Lucas ran at the front, his silver hair catching the light, his breathing steady.
Beside him, Austin matched his stride, his fire wings folded against his back, his eyes scanning the treeline out of habit.
Behind them, Ethan kept pace with Kaya, his wind spells smoothing the path ahead, clearing fallen branches and loose stone.
The first day passed in silence. The second in quiet conversation. By the third, they had fallen into a rhythm.
They stopped at midday, finding a clearing large enough for what Ethan had in mind.
The grass was thick, the trees tall, the sky a perfect blue.
"Lucas," Ethan said, drawing his sword. "Austin, With me."
Kaya settled on a fallen log, watching.
The three of them moved to the center of the clearing. Ethan raised his blade, the wind already gathering around it.
"No spells," he said. "Just swords and physical strength."
Austin grinned. Lucas said nothing.
They began slowly, testing each other's range, each other's reflexes. Ethan was faster his wind-enhanced movements blurring the edge of perception.
Austin was aggressive, pressing forward, forcing Ethan to retreat step by step.
Lucas was neither.
He was patient, watching, waiting for the opening that would not come.
"Too cautious," Ethan said, his blade meeting Lucas's in a shower of sparks.
Lucas pushed back, forcing Ethan to take a step. "I observe."
"Act faster and observe lesser," Ethan repeated.
He disengaged, spinning, his blade cutting toward Austin's flank.
Austin blocked, the impact jarring his arms, and countered with a thrust that Ethan sidestepped.
Kaya watched from the log, her eyes tracking their movements. She had seen them fight before—in the arena, in the valley, in the darkness of the mountain. But this was different. This was practice, not battle. There was no fear, no desperation, no risk of death. There was only the joy of movement, the satisfaction of a blade finding its mark.
She found herself smiling.
---
It happened on the fifth night.
They had made camp in a small valley, sheltered from the wind, a stream running nearby. Austin had been quiet all day, his movements slower than usual, his focus turned inward.
After dinner, Austin walked away from the fire, into the darkness beyond the treeline.
They waited.
The night was silent, the stars bright, the air cool. Then—a shift in the mana, a pulse of heat that made the fire flicker. Kaya's hand went to her kunai. Ethan rose to his feet.
Austin stepped back into the light.
His eyes were red, three black leaves spinning in their depths. Fire flickered across his skin, not wild, not uncontrolled, but steady, warm, alive. His mana core had expanded, the quality of his energy denser, richer.
He had broken through to the Silver Stage.
Ethan laughed, a rare, genuine sound. "About time."
Austin grinned, the fire fading from his skin.
Lucas said nothing, but he was smiling.
Kaya watched them—Ethan's approval, Austin's pride, Lucas's quiet satisfaction. She felt something twist in her chest. Not jealousy. Not resentment. Something closer to hunger.
She wanted to break through too.
---
The journey took another week. Seven days of forest and road, of campfires and cold streams, of training and conversation and the slow, steady building of trust.
Ethan taught them what he knew of the Silver Stage—the way mana shifted, the way spells changed, the way the body demanded more rest and more food and more patience.
"The next stage is harder," he said, one night, as they sat around the fire. "Gold is where most stop. Not because they can't go further, but because the cost becomes too high. The training, the resources, the time—it consumes everything."
He looked at Lucas, at Austin, at Kaya. "You three have talent. More than most. But talent only takes you so far. The rest is work."
Austin nodded, Kaya stared into the flames. Lucas said nothing.
They trained every day. Ethan pushed them hard—harder than he had in Eldoria, harder than he had on the road to the kingdom. He wanted them ready for what came next. The war. The hidden cities. The enemies that were already gathering.
Lucas matched him strike for strike. Austin pushed past his limits, then pushed again. Kaya struggled to keep up, her lightning body flickering, her speed falling short.
But she did not give up.
---
At night, when the others slept, Kaya found her way to Lucas's side.
It simply happened—the way she settled beside him, her shoulder against his, her hand finding his in the darkness. The way he did not pull away.
They talked, sometimes. About the clan, about the war, about the future she could not imagine. Other times, they sat in silence, watching the stars, listening to the sounds of the forest.
She asked him once, in a whisper, "Do you ever get tired?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "Of what?"
"Of trying to survive in this crazy world."
He looked at her. In the darkness, his eyes were dark, unreadable.
"Sometimes," he said.
She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. His arm came around her, pulling her closer.
"But as long we are together everything should be fine," she said.
---
They were attacked on the ninth day.
A group of bandits—thirty, maybe forty, armed with swords and bows and a few stolen enchanted weapons. They had been watching the road, waiting for travelers weak enough to rob, foolish enough to travel alone.
They had not been expecting four Black Ops agents.
The fight lasted less than a minute. Austin's flames cut through their formation like a scythe through wheat. Ethan's wind blades sent them flying into the trees. Kaya's lightning dropped a dozen before they could draw their swords.
Lucas did not move.
He stood at the center of the carnage, his katana sheathed, his eyes scanning the survivors. They knelt in the dirt, hands raised, faces pale.
"Who sent you?" he asked.
The leader—a thin man with a scar across his throat—shook his head. "No one. We didn't know—"
Lucas's hand moved to his sword. The man stopped talking.
"No one," he repeated.
Ethan stepped forward, his blade lowered. "They're just bandits. Low level ones with No connection to the hidden cities."
Lucas studied them for a long moment. Then he turned away.
---
Three days later, they encountered something more dangerous.
A hidden city—small, insignificant by the standards of the Great Five, but still a city, still filled with cultivators who had chosen to live outside the laws of the empires. They had built their walls in a valley between two mountains, hidden from the world, surviving on trade and raiding and the occasional contract.
They did not appreciate strangers passing through their territory.
Ethan handled the negotiations. He was calm, professional, his hand never leaving his sword. The city's leader—a woman with gray hair and cold eyes—listened to his terms, then nodded.
"Pass through," she said. "Quickly. Do not stop."
They passed through.
Lucas felt the eyes on them—the cultivators watching from the walls, the windows, the shadows. He did not look back.
---
The Hidden City of Sky rose before them on the fifteenth day.
Its walls were massive, its towers tall, its gates wide open. The morning light painted the stone in shades of gold and gray, and the streets beyond were already crowded with merchants and cultivators and the endless, restless energy of a city that never slept.
They walked through the gates in silence, their boots echoing on the stone. The guards recognized them, nodded them through, did not ask questions.
Ethan led them through the streets, past the markets and the temples and the training grounds where young cultivators practiced their forms. Austin's eyes wandered, taking in the familiar sights. Kaya walked close to Lucas, her shoulder brushing against his.
They reached the palace.
The guards at the door stepped aside. Ethan nodded to them, then turned to the others.
"Wait here," he said. "I'll announce us."
He disappeared through the doors. Austin leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. Kaya stood beside Lucas, her hand finding his.
"You're quiet," she said.
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
He looked at the doors, at the palace beyond, at the Sky King who waited inside.
The doors opened. Ethan stepped out, his expression unreadable.
"He'll see you now."
They walked inside.
---
Arthur sat on his throne, golden hair catching the light, red eyes watching them as they entered. The throne room was empty—no ministers, no advisors, no guards. Just the king and the four agents who had traveled to Eldoria and back.
Ethan knelt. Austin followed. Kaya knelt. Lucas knelt.
Arthur's eyes found him. "Rise."
They rose.
Ethan spoke first—the mission, the demons, the sealing. He described the generals, the battle, the destruction of the portal. He did not mention Scarlett's gift. He did not mention the soul techniques or the map to a higher world because none of then knew leaving Lucas as he hadn't told them or anyone.
Arthur listened. When Ethan finished, he nodded slowly.
"You've done well. All of you."
He rose from his throne, his robes sweeping the stone.
"You have two months of rest. Other Black Ops teams will handle the assignments that come in." He looked at each of them in turn. "But if something comes up—something that requires your specific skills—your break will be cut short. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Ethan said.
Arthur nodded. "Then rest, Train and Be ready."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty throne room.
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Austin let out a long breath.
"Two months," he said.
Ethan smiled. "Don't get comfortable."
He had two months. Two months to train, to study, to understand the gift Scarlett had left him. Two months to prepare for whatever came next.
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Imagine being a bandit. You've been watching the road for days. Finally, four travelers show up. Easy prey, right?
Thirty seconds later, half your friends are on fire, the other half are electrocuted, and the guy with silver hair hasn't even drawn his sword yet. 💀
Question of the chapter: What's the worst "wrong target" decision you've ever made in a game or real life? Mine was trying to fight a level 50 boss at level 5. These bandits feel my pain.
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