Kheiron was geographically isolated from the rest of the Ameian world. It was far from any other city-state. As the westernmost city, Kheiron had its cultural differences with its eastern peers. But its founders came from Ameia proper and carried their traditions with them.
One of them was the building of an acropolis. It wasn’t anything outlandish. Building the most important parts of the city on a fortified hill. Some barbarian tribes followed the same principle when constructing their crude settlements. Of course, it was incomparable to the grandeur of Kheiron’s acropolis.
Over the centuries, the three noble clans of Kheiron had turned the small hill looming over the harbor into a lavish complex celebrating their glory. Above all, the three temples were particularly impressive. The temple of the sun of the Leios clan faced south and shone all day under the golden rays of its namesake star. The temple of the sky of the Opheo clan stood at the highest elevation. Spire-shaped, it was surrounded by winding stairs looping around it as if one could climb them to reach the sky. As for the Thesios clan, they built the temple of war. It looked like an arena, but it matched the spirit of that clan.
All of this to say: Diven was used to walking up and down the hill Kheiron’s acropolis was built on. It was something he had done every day for his entire life. Yet, it was nothing in comparison to climbing a mountain. Something he was starting to realize as his steps took him higher and higher toward the peak.
The first difference was that the mountain’s slope was a lot steeper. It wasn’t nicely paved roads where walkers could stroll under the shade of old, majestic trees. Instead, there were no paths. There were only rocks and snow and branches and pine needles and roots.
With each step, his feet sank in the snow to his knees. This was when he wasn’t slipping on ice, trying his best to hold on. The most dangerous sections came when he was scaling rocks or walking on a ledge with nothing below him.
If he fell…
Well, he preferred not to think about it.
As hard as it was, it was something he wanted to do. Plus the thrill he got when he looked down into the void was exhilarating.
He liked it.
After hours of toiling, climbing, and backtracking, Diven finally found a path to the top. He was right below the mountain’s ridge.
All he needed now was to climb over the wall that separated him from the summit. It was about the same height as he was if he raised his arms in the air. It would have been simple if not for the ice.
The rocky wall was covered in a thick, smooth layer of ice that made any grip impossible.
Diven paced left and right, trying to find a solution. There had to be. He hadn’t climbed all the way there for nothing, he had to see what was on the other side.
He was also worried about descending the mountain. It was dizzying and he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it without hurting himself. He hoped the other side was easier to navigate.
Since there were no handholds to climb, he decided to make his own. He was convinced his spear should be able to pierce the ice. With all his strength, he stabbed his old spear into the ice wall.
It barely made a dent.
He had hoped for the spear to lodge itself into the ice, allowing him to use it as a foothold to pull himself up. But all it did was nick the ice a little.
He tried again. No difference.
It wouldn’t do. No matter how many holes he pierced in the ice, it would still be ice. Too slippery for his fingers to latch onto. He needed another solution.
Considering all he had with him, his thoughts settled on the bone spear he had looted from the frostcrawler spearfish. After all, this monster could move underground so it stood to reason its spear would be strong.
It was worth a try. Putting aside his old spear, Diven stabbed the ice with the bone spear.
It penetrated deep into the wall. Lodging itself into it.
After testing how firmly it held, Diven wagered he could put his full weight on it without it breaking or falling off the wall.
Good.
But it wasn’t enough. Even if he stood on the bone spear, he wouldn’t be able to drag himself over the ridge. It was too icy, too slippery.
However, he had a solution in mind. Dislodging the bone spear from the ice, he placed his regular spear into the hole he had just opened. Then, he lodged the bone spear higher up the wall.
With two steps, it should be enough.
Setting his foot on the wooden shaft, he prayed it wouldn’t break as he pushed down to move his other foot onto the bone spear.
It seemed to be holding. He had a hand resting against the wall of ice to stabilize himself. Diven wasn’t a tightrope walker, he needed the help to keep his balance between his two spears.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Raising his foot from the wooden shaft, he threw his arms over the wall and brought his foot beside the other on the bone spear. Then, he pushed himself off it and, with the help of his body weight, crawled up on the ridge.
There was just a small issue. He needed to recover his spears. Still crawling, with his torso flat against the ground, he turned around and reached down with an arm to grab the bone spear. His regular spear was too far, he couldn’t reach it.
He didn’t want to abandon it, but he still had some time to make a decision. First, he wanted to examine the other side of the mountain which revealed itself beyond the ridge. He could still turn back and grab his spear on the way.
Unsurprisingly, the other side wasn’t too different from where he came from. It was another valley. The forest cover was denser and there was a river winding through it toward the horizon
It was beautiful. Diven was in awe.
The snow and ice under him cracked. His body tensed up. A sense of crisis rising from deep within him. But Trap Detection wasn’t triggered so…
The ground gave way. Diven was thrown into a tempest of snow that was throwing him down the mountain toward the new valley. He could not see anything but white.
His limbs were out of control as the force of the avalanche was too much for him to resist.
Debris hit him, leaving bruises and cuts. First, it was rocks then branches. Sometimes he didn’t even know what hit him. Only that it hurt, and even that pain was lost in the sea of white violence surrounding him.
He lost grasp of his bone spear, of his shield. His food bag was gone.
Time stretched, it was as if it wouldn’t end. Was the mountain so tall?
Then, it stopped. Diven was still conscious, under a pile of snow. He could not move.
He tried, he tried, he tried to claw his way out of the snow but it wouldn’t budge. He needed to breathe. He needed air.
But there was no air.
With no other option, Diven turned to the only solution he could think of and started channeling Echoes of the Heart. There was no way it could replace his need to breathe but it was better than nothing.
If anything, it would be more pleasant.
His eyes closed, and he focused on the beating heart within the central tree of his inner garden.
Thump… thump… thump…
Salt filled the air, and the sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore created a symphony with the cicadas’ chant—so emblematic of Kheiron’s summers. Diven was lying on the ground, above a small cliff overlooking the great sea. Far from the city’s hustle and bustle, he often came to this spot with his friends.
This time, he was alone, the cypress tree above his head shading him from the sun.
The parched earth beneath him was stripped of vegetation.
A fresh, calm wind was blowing from the north.
Before he could truly enjoy the effects of his skill, Diven was pulled back to his inner world by a dizzying sensation.
Confusion gripped him—he had no idea what was happening.
Thump… thump… thump…
The heart was beating stronger and stronger. His brain raced, and Echoes of the Heart was leveling up.
Skill leveled up: Echoes of the Heart lv2 -> lv3
Good, he needed all the help he could get to save himself from this predicament.
But the changes were not over.
Thump… thump… thump…
The tree was shaking from how hard the heart was beating. It didn’t feel right.
Diven could only watch as the dark, rotten streak on the tree trunk moved and expanded. The bark parted, exposing the wood. The latter turned black in a matter of seconds and rotted away, exposing the heart of the tree.
It looked exactly like what Diven imagined a human heart would look like. He’d never seen one but he imagined it looked similar to a pig’s or a cow’s. He wasn’t sure, but for some reason, he was convinced the one in the tree was human.
It was red, looking out of place in a tree.
Though shaped like a human heart, it was significantly larger. Even if the tree was still a sapling, it had grown a lot since it had been born.
Diven was watching in horror mixed with fascination as a section of the wood around the heart disintegrated, exposing the latter for the world to see.
Then, through an artery connecting the heart to the rest of the tree, the black spread.
The heart was rotting.
It transformed the artery in an instant, then the heart and the rest of the connections to the tree.
The red organ turned pitch black. It looked sick.
Echoes of the Heart - Basic - Lv3 has transformed into Echoes of the Rot Heart - Basic - Lv3.
No.
No.
Diven couldn’t accept what he was seeing.
This wasn’t what he wanted.
His skill…
What was happening? He didn’t know skills could change like that.
His head was light, spinning. He remembered he was trapped in snow with no air to breathe.
He had no choice, he had to channel this new, mutated skill.
Diven wanted to take a deep breath to give himself courage. But he couldn’t. Steeling himself, he focused on the still-beating heart.
Thump… thump… thump…
His entire body was shivering. It was so cold. It had been a long time since he’d been cold.
The world around him filled itself, he was back near the sea but the water was still, unmoving. Unnatural. The cicadas were still chanting but instead of the regular rhythm he was accustomed to, it sounded off, out of tune.
Then the stench hit him. It was bad, very bad. So bad Diven couldn’t help but vomit. It wasn’t real—but he couldn’t stop himself.
This smell…
It was worse than when he handled the rotting corpse of the Cyclops.
The cypress tree he was standing under was dead, covered in a thick layer of black and white mushrooms. It wasn’t dry anymore, instead, the air was so damp his skin clung to his bones.
Insects were crawling on his legs.
Diven was thrown out of his skill-induced nightmare. Back in the snow, he noticed he could move a little. A warm liquid surrounded his body. He didn’t dare to open his eyes.
The stench was unbearable. Overpowering.
Smell? He could breathe?
His eyes snapped open. He was lying in a puddle of yellowish pus in a hole melted in the snow. He could see the sky.
Echoes of the Rot Heart was likely the reason behind it.
It had saved his life.
But at what cost?