The embers of the campfire barely flickered before Ryuxian heard the crunch of approaching footsteps. He didn't flinch, but his eyes, usually languid, sharpened into slits. Emerging from the shadows, the stranger from the Forgotten Village stood, his face a mask of bewildered disbelief.
"You..." The man's voice was a rough whisper. "We left you three days ago. How did you get here before us?"
Ryuxian leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, his posture a picture of weary nonchalance. Only he knew the truth: the desperate, power-draining teleportation that had ripped him miles away from the village.
"Lucky," he murmured through a half-yawn. "Can't say the same for you."
The man's gaze raked over Ryuxian, noting the subtle shift. The lingering shadows under his eyes hinted at exhaustion, but an underlying vitality pulsed beneath, like a freshly sharpened blade.
They settled by the dying fire, the silence punctuated by the crackling wood.
"I married young," the man began, his voice flat.
"My wife… she died in a week. The village called me cursed. So I vanished."
Ryuxian's inner sigh was heavy. At least he tried. "Where to?"
"The Holy Mountain. Seeking... something."
He turned to Ryuxian, his eyes narrowing. "And you? That attire... are you a lost noble?"
Ryuxian chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Just an adventurer."
"Join me, if you want," the man offered, a hint of caution in his voice. "But don't talk to strangers too much. You look... frail."
Ryuxian's eyebrow twitched.
"'Frail,' huh?" He almost choked on a laugh. "Sure. Let's go with that."
. "Sure, why not?"
The morning air was crisp, the stream icy as they washed their faces. The journey began, a winding path through dense forests and rocky inclines.
They encountered a creaking carriage, laden with fruits and vegetables, its driver a jovial man with a sun-weathered face.
"Heading to the Holy Mountain?" Ryuxian asked, feigning casual interest.
"Indeed!" The driver grinned. "A place of enlightenment, they say."
"Enlightenment?" Ryuxian's eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief. "Tell me more."
The driver leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "This world, it was created by the Emperor. The first and last. He died, leaving only the throne to rule."
Ryuxian frowned. A throne ruling itself? Intriguing.
"Some hear whispers from the throne, gaining powers," the driver continued, his eyes wide. "Obsidian marks, sigils... it depends on the turmoil within."
"So, everyone's searching for the throne?"
"Aye! But the high cultivators... they think it's foolish. They built a city, away from the throne's madness."
Ryuxian's mind raced. A power vacuum, a world driven by ambition. "No one's claimed the throne since the Emperor?"
The driver laughed, a hearty, booming sound. "You ask like you're from another realm!"
Ryuxian said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"Divinity's just perspective. Some kneel. Some question. And some—some just laugh."
Finally, the Holy Mountain loomed into view, its peak piercing the clouds. Hundreds, no, thousands of stone steps snaked up its slopes, a daunting sight. Ryuxian's shoulders slumped.
"Why," he groaned, "must life be like this?"
His companion chuckled, patting him on the back. "What's wrong?"
The air around the mountain thrummed with an unseen energy, a palpable sense of the divine. Ryuxian turned to a passing pilgrim.
"What's so special about this place?"
The pilgrim's eyes widened. "You don't know?"
"Enlighten me," Ryuxian repeated, a hint of impatience in his voice.
"The Emperor visited here first," the pilgrim explained, his voice hushed. "And he left... his pet."
Ryuxian raised an eyebrow. A pet?
"That 'pet' is now a sage, a god in humanoid form," the pilgrim finished, his face flushed with awe.
"The world worships what it does not understand. I prefer to ask questions."
"Is it still here?" Ryuxian asked, his tone utterly unimpressed.
Silence descended, thick and heavy. The pilgrims around them froze, their faces paling.
"You... you dare speak like that?!" one choked out, his voice trembling. "That's a god!"
Ryuxian blinked, a slow, dawning realization spreading across his face. Oh. Oops. He glanced at his companion, who was valiantly suppressing a snort of laughter.
The journey to the Holy Mountain, it seemed, was about to become a comedy of divine errors.
He thought himself
"If gods walk among us, then why do they demand worship? Shouldn't divinity be self-evident?"