1094 Eldrin Silverthorn
"I am fucked," Eldrin Silverthorn heaved and panted, his breath ragged as he cast his gaze upward. Before him stood a towering mountain range, and at its center, an enormous sword stood upright, exuding an aura of power and majesty.
The sword's sheer size and imposing presence overwhelmed Eldrin. It was a weapon of immense proportions, far beyond anything he had ever encountered.
Its gleaming blade, reflecting the sunlight, seemed to mock his own insignificance. He could feel the weight of his own mortality as he stood before this colossal manifestation of strength.
Doubt and fear crept into Eldrin's mind. The task ahead of him felt insurmountable, and the odds seemed stacked against him and yet here he was standing in this world.
Eldrin moved as fast as he could, faster than his usual speed, at least the one that he led others to believe was his. He was not pulling any punches at the moment. He needed to reach the trial grounds first. Otherwise, his chance of survival would further plummet.
He activated the movement skill that he had purchased and practiced in secret, even achieving high proficiency, and used all of his energy reserves to cover the distance.
He cut through the lush green forests, darted across meandering rivers, and ascended treacherous cliffs with unparalleled agility.
The terrain grew more treacherous as he neared but he continued running forward irrespectively. Soon he was standing in front of the vast expanse of mountains.
Huuuu… Eldrin let out a deep breath as he stared at the sight in shock.
The entire place was foggy so he couldn't quite catch the full view from the distance but now that he was nearer, the fog had magically disappeared.
Stretching all the way to the horizon, an unfathomable expanse of mountains loomed before him. The towering peaks seemed to touch the heavens, their jagged edges veiled in mist.
What struck him most, however, was not their sheer number, but the astonishing sight that unfolded.
Eldrin's eyes widened in awe as he beheld the sprawling panorama before him.
The mountainscape was a symphony of architectural marvels, each structure telling a story of the people who once inhabited this world.
The mountains stood like guardians, cradling within their rocky embrace a tapestry of dwellings.
Towering pagodas with intricate rooftops reached for the sky, their elegant curves a testament to ancient craftsmanship. Grand palaces, adorned with ornate carvings and gleaming golden accents, stood as proud reminders of bygone empires.
Nestled among the imposing structures were humble huts, their thatched roofs blending harmoniously with the natural landscape.
Each dwelling, no matter its size or shape, bore the imprints of lives once lived, memories etched into their very foundations.
However, the once-majestic buildings now bore the unmistakable marks of decay and battle scars.
The ravages of time had taken their toll, leaving these awe-inspiring creations in a state of disrepair. Crumbling facades and shattered walls told stories of ancient conflicts and the passage of countless years.
The grandeur and splendor that once thrived in this realm now lay in ruins, a haunting reminder of the fragility of existence.
And amidst the remnants of this ancient civilization, the colossal sword stood as a symbol of power and defiance, its blade pointing towards the heavens as if challenging the very gods themselves.
Eldrin's heart pounded in his chest, his body weary from the arduous journey. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead as he contemplated the enormity of the task ahead.
He knew that to overcome this trial, he would need to summon every ounce of courage, strength, and resilience within him. The chances of him making out alive from this were spectacularly thin but he had to do it. Even if it was just to spite those who wanted him to die.
Eldrin had done his best to make sure something like this would never happen. He had worked for decades to cultivate an image that would ensure that he wouldn't get picked.
Yes, he was a direct heir of one of the big families of the kingdom. But with his wastrel image and the amount of time he spent in brothels and taverns, one would think that these old geezers wouldn't spare him any glance.
However, he was sorely mistaken. They still picked him anyway.
Of course, he knew very well why they had done so. Even though he was a wastrel, his ancestors had once been able to assimilate the bloodline and become powerful pillars of the kingdom.
His ancestor was one of the five because of whom this damned kingdom existed in the first place and yet this was how they treated their family.
His three big, beefy brothers were already toast, and now it looked like it was his turn to bite the dust. Even if he was a good-for-nothing, it seemed they were still determined not to let him go.
He was pretty sure that those wily old geezers made all the necessary preparations. Otherwise, why would they have opened the mystic realm that was the royal family's personal training ground to everyone else?
Maybe they even arranged for specific royal guards to assassinate him. Eldrin wouldn't put anything past them.
But this was where they had gone wrong. Eldrin still had many aces hidden in his sleeves. Right in front of them, he had improved his strength to a sufficient level.
He glanced at the bracelet in his hand that hid his true power. It was a top treasure that had cost dearly and emptied more than half of his family's coffers but it was worth it.
Want to kill me in the ruins? I will grab the ultimate treasure and bitch slap all of your faces!
Unlike his idiotic family, he no longer had any attachments to his treacherous kingdom. Screw the kingdom and screw the so-called family legacy.
Taking a moment to collect himself, Eldrin straightened his posture and focused his gaze on the distant peak where the sword stood. That was where the real treasure was.
Determination burned in his eyes as he made his move.
