Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1284: Pinnacle of Mortal

The Pinnacle of Mortal loomed before them, its peak shrouded in a thick mist that even the clear blue sky could not pierce. The air felt dense, a suffocating weight pressing down on the shoulders of all who dared to stand at its base. Even the usual chorus of birds or the rustling of leaves was absent. It was as though nature itself refused to acknowledge the mountain’s existence.

"Yup, he is there alright," Muspell, the Almighty Ox, rumbled, his deep voice reverberating like a small tremor. His large eyes narrowed as they gazed toward the distant peak. "That big cat is as ferocious as ever, even as a mere ghost."

Lyon grinned, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Raja, huh? I figured he’d show up. He always had a flair for the dramatic." His tone was casual, almost dismissive, but the knowing glint in his eyes showed a certain respect.

Cecile, standing beside him, for the first time, had a look of deep seriousness etched on her face. "I’ve met him once, at Lyon’s death," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of those words hung in the air, thick with unspoken memories. "He was my benefactor then. This body, the Wargod Physique... it was his gift. Yet, even now, I still wonder why he chose me. Lyon would have been able to use this latent power far more than I could ever imagine. It should’ve been his."

Her confession drew the attention of the group, but none spoke. There was a deep respect between them when it came to Lyon and the mysteries that surrounded him.

"Perhaps," a calm, soothing voice cut through the silence, "Raja saw something within you that Lyon does not possess."

Cecile’s head turned, and her eyes widened slightly. Standing beside her, in all her ethereal beauty, was Enya, the Immortal Phoenix, in her graceful human form. Her presence was as elegant as it was overwhelming, with an aura that exuded a quiet but undeniable power.

Enya’s soft, fiery red hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes, glowing with a phoenix’s inner flame, met Cecile’s with an understanding that transcended words. "Lyon is a force of nature," she continued, her voice steady, "but not every battle is won by brute strength alone. You, Cecile, were chosen for something deeper. The Wargod Physique wasn’t about power—it was about your will, your resolve. Perhaps Raja saw that you were the one who could carry the burden, not just wield it."

Cecile’s eyes flickered with understanding, though doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. "I suppose... but it still feels like a gift I wasn’t meant to have."

Enya’s lips curved into a soft, almost knowing smile. "Lyon carries many gifts of his own, more than he shows, even to you. Raja knew what he was doing."

Muspell snorted, his heavy breath rolling like thunder. "That tiger never did anything without reason. If he saw something in you, then you best believe it was real."

Cecile clenched her fists, her resolve tightening. "Then I will honor that choice. I won’t let his gift go to waste."

Lyon, who had been listening silently, chuckled. "Heh, seems like even in death, that mighty tiger is still messing with our lives. Incredible." He shot Cecile a playful grin. "But hey, if King Raja believed in you, then I do too. Don’t sweat it."

Cecile couldn’t help but smile, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from her shoulders.

Luce stood before the seven contenders, her serene smile contrasting with the intensity of the moment. Her back was to the crowd, her face bathed in the light of the midday sun, yet her words carried the chill of ancient mystery. "Many have ventured forth toward this highest mountain," she began, her voice calm yet authoritative, "but none have ever reached the summit. The peak remains unsolved, a secret held by the mountain itself. Every step is a test—an ever-growing weight that grinds down even the bravest souls with each breath."

Mavis let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "No kidding. I can already feel the pressure radiating off this thing." He glanced warily at the towering rock face. "What kind of secret does a place like this hold? It’s like the mountain’s alive."

Azleid, standing next to him, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the imposing peak. "It’s not just the secret, it’s the will. The mountain... it feels like it’s judging us." His words were quiet, but the weight behind them resonated with the rest of the group.

"This is something new," Lyon said, chuckling under his breath, his arms lazily draped over his head as if the enormity of the situation didn’t bother him in the least. "I don’t remember any contest of willpower in the record books of the Gathering of the Six."

Yuri scoffed, casting a sideways glance at Lyon. "What’s a mountain to someone who fights with recklessness? He’ll probably just brute-force his way through."

Lyon smirked, catching Yuri’s gaze but said nothing in return. Instead, his eyes wandered back to the peak, the far-off summit barely visible through the rolling fog. "Well," Lyon said, his grin widening as he cracked his knuckles, "recklessness can be a strategy too."

Ning sighed, running a hand through her hair. "This is different. It’s not just physical strength. It’s not something you can fight head-on with brute force alone."

"Don’t think that’ll stop him," muttered Lyra under her breath, watching Lyon with a mix of frustration and fascination.

Luce gestured toward the towering mountain once more. "Remember," she warned, her voice carrying an undertone of caution, "the true challenge isn’t the climb itself. It’s what awaits you along the way. At every step, the pressure increases. The weight of the mountain’s aura will bear down upon you, testing your resolve, your mind, and your very spirit. The question isn’t just who’s the strongest... but who can endure."

The crowd behind them murmured with excitement and apprehension, many having never witnessed anything like this in the history of the competition. The mountain itself seemed to hum with power, as though it were anticipating the trial to come.

Lyon, of course, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He let out a casual sigh before flashing Luce a playful grin. "I don’t know about you guys, but this sounds like fun." He turned to face the others, his smirk widening. "Shall we?"

The six young masters exchanged glances, some wary, others more determined, but none could ignore the sheer presence Lyon exuded in that moment. This was no ordinary contest, and they all knew it. Yet, even in the face of such overwhelming odds, Lyon’s carefree attitude continued to unsettle them.

Esmeralda let out a soft breath, casting one last glance toward the peak. "This mountain... it feels like it’s alive," she whispered, her eyes narrowing as if she could sense the hidden danger lying in wait.

"Alive or not," Mavis said, clenching his fists, "we’ve got no choice but to climb. Let’s see if this mountain is as tough as it looks."

Luce nodded in agreement, stepping back from the seven. "May the strength of your will carry you forward," she said softly, as the crowd fell into silence, all eyes fixed on the brave contenders standing at the foot of the legendary mountain. The true trial had only just begun.

As the six young masters trudged through the pathway, the mounting pressure began to take its toll. Their breaths grew heavier with each step, and the immense weight of the mountain’s presence pressed down on their shoulders. Even the bravest among them, like Yuri and Mavis, could feel the grind of the unseen force against their resolve.

Lyon, however, had yet to move. Standing at the foot of the mountain, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, an uncharacteristic stillness settling over him. His companions were already struggling to push forward, but Lyon remained rooted, lost in thought.

"I’m sorry, gramps, uncles, Aunt Enya, and Mother Rui," Lyon murmured under his breath, speaking not to the present, but to his past. "It would be disrespectful for me to face him with all of you by my side. I believe... he wants to see me one on one."

Muspell, who had been watching intently, raised a brow. His massive form shifted slightly. "Are you sure, Lyon?" His deep voice echoed like distant thunder, filled with both concern and curiosity.

Lyon opened his eyes, their sharpness gleaming with quiet determination. "I am."

Enya, standing with her usual grace, nodded with approval. "That’s a good idea. Raja never did appreciate large crowds." Her lips curved into a smile. "You guys can help me prepare the bath. I’m sure that you all want the body, right? I have the formula."

One by one, Lyon felt the presence of his blessings begin to fade, each of them respectfully withdrawing their influence from his being. With every passing moment, the warmth of their power left him, but it wasn’t a feeling of loss. It was a gesture of trust—a gift of solitude for what lay ahead.

Each spirit offered their silent prayers as they departed, leaving Lyon with words of strength.

"Crack his arrogant ass, my sweet child," came the wholesome voice of Rui, full of maternal pride.

Lyon couldn’t help but smile, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "I will, Mother."

As the final blessings faded, Lyon stood alone at the base of the mountain. No longer carrying the spirits of his past or the weight of their expectations, it was just him now—facing the impossible climb, and the legendary being that waited for him at the top.

"Alright, Uncle Raja," Lyon whispered, the grin returning to his face. "Let’s see how much of that arrogance is still left in you."