The air at Zenith's Reach was thinner, colder—less a place, more a memory held in stone.
Sprawling stairways carved into the cliffs wound upward like veins, pulsing faintly with old aura. Statues lined the mountain path—crumbling warriors, faceless kings, and broken gods. Each one radiated power that hadn't been touched in centuries.
Kael stood at the base, wind clawing at his coat. The sky above wasn't blue. It was a canvas of silver clouds swirling around a singular storm eye.
That storm pulsed with something… ancient.
Something watching.
"It's not just a dungeon," Zera said beside him. "It's a cathedral. One built before the records of man."
Drayke cracked his knuckles. "Great. More creepy lore. Can we punch something yet?"
Lyra gripped her relic tighter, eyes flicking upward. "We're not just climbing a mountain, are we?"
Kael didn't answer.
He already felt it.
This dungeon… wasn't just reacting to his presence.
It was waiting for him.
[Dungeon: Throne of the First]
Type: Eternal-Cradle / World-Altering
Danger Level: Unknown (Classified Above S)
Reward: [Eternal Crown] – ???
They climbed.
Step by step, aura by aura.
But the mountain was alive.
Each level brought challenges not just of strength, but of memory.
At the first summit, illusions came—shades of fallen allies from raids long past. Ghosts Kael had never known but felt like he should've.
At the second, time twisted. Lyra and Drayke found themselves reliving their worst days—childhoods stolen by monsters, betrayal from comrades.
But Kael?
Kael saw himself.
Alone.
Bleeding.
Kneeling before his brother's corpse in a burning city.
The memory refused to fade.
Even now.
Drayke broke the silence with a sudden shout, swinging at nothing. "Enough of this mindgame crap!"
Flames burst from his gauntlets, searing the illusions around him. "If this Eternal wants to test me, come out and fight me already!"
"No," Kael said softly. "It wants us broken before we get there."
He took another step. "But it won't get what it wants."
At the third summit, the landscape changed.
The sky cracked open.
And standing there—blocking the stairway forward—was a figure draped in obsidian and gold.
Veyl Solane.
Sunspire Vanguard Commander.
His aura was blinding, even restrained. A fusion of Celestial and Order—a bladed solar flare given form.
"Kael Arclight," Veyl's voice boomed. "Under Directive Risen One, you are to halt your ascent."
Kael didn't flinch. "Why?"
"The Eternal above must not be awakened. You've already fused with one. Another could corrupt you."
Kael stepped forward. "Or I could stop it before it corrupts the world."
Veyl's eyes narrowed.
"You're not strong enough."
Drayke smirked. "Then let's test that."
But Kael held up a hand. "No."
He faced Veyl directly. "Then stop me."
The mountain roared.
And Veyl moved.
What followed was less a duel, more a storm.
Light clashed with ash.
Solar slashes met spectral blade arcs.
Kael's new skill—Verdant Ash—absorbed Veyl's solar blasts into mirrored roots, redirecting them into aura-null fields that collapsed even light itself.
But Veyl was relentless.
A true SSS-rank, forged in war.
He forced Kael into the air, into the clouds themselves, into the storm circling the peak.
Every strike of Veyl's lance felt like the judgment of gods.
But Kael adapted.
Every moment.
Every blow.
He was evolving mid-combat.
And then—
Kael dropped low, ducked under a solar arc, and whispered his line:
"Haaah... what a strong aura."
He rose with a spin, cloak burning, blade singing—
Soulbrand—no—Oathveil sliced through the blinding light with black fire.
And Veyl staggered.
Not from the hit.
But from the realization.
"You... you weren't trying to win."
Kael's eyes glowed. "I was learning how to."
Veyl stepped back, aura faltering.
Then he smiled.
Not out of defeat.
But pride.
"You might just be what we need after all."
He lowered his weapon.
"The summit is yours, Kael Arclight."
Kael nodded once—and turned.
Toward the peak.
Where the storm waited.
Where the First Eternal slept.
And where gods would rise—or fall.