Sylvia’s voice wavered. “But if he picks the candy?” “Then he is crafty,” Jared answered. “He still cannot live.”
Sylvia pressed on, almost whispering. “If he takes both?” Jared’s reply came colder than winter rain. “Greed, too, deserves no future. He cannot live.”
“And what if the child refuses to choose either one?” Sylvia asked again, her words soft yet edged with an urgency that seemed to echo beyond the stone walls.
Jared let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing as though he could already read the inevitable future. “Then the child carries rebellion in his very bones,” he said. “Someone like that can never be allowed to stay.”
Sylvia’s lips parted, but no sound emerged. A long, uncertain silence stretched between them, louder than any argument.
If the child were really here, he’d probably say, “You think you’re so great, so high and mighty! If you can’t stand to lose, don’t play at all.”
The old man’s gaze drifted to Jared, equal parts exasperation and affection.
“Your talent is real,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “Focus on training harder, and not on pointless things.”
The last syllable had barely faded before his figure dissolved like morning mist, leaving only a quiver in the air where he had stood.
At the very instant he vanished, the void before them twisted as though an invisible hand wrung reality itself.
When the distortion settled, a towering mountain materialized, its ridges abrupt, its shadow swallowing half the sky.
High upon those crags, palaces rose one after another, their jade roofs glinting cold and remote, like silent sentinels guarding forgotten secrets.
Seeing this, Jared’s brow furrowed.
“Why does that peak look so familiar?” he murmured, heart thudding as memories stirred just out of reach.
A sudden spark lit Sylvia’s eyes.
“Heaven Gate Mountain,” she breathed. “That’s Heaven Gate Mountain, isn’t it?”
Only then did Jared see it. It was the same steep face, the same heaven-piercing summit he had climbed once in dreams and legends.
“Have we walked out of the ruins?” he whispered, baffled by the impossible leap from one realm to the next.
Sylvia shook her head, silver hair catching the breeze. “I don’t think so. Look at those palaces; this must be the long-lost Heaven Gate Sect itself, revealed at last.”
Excitement flared in his voice. “Come on, let’s see it up close!”
Side by side, they strode toward the mountain path, anticipation quickening every step. Yet the moment their boots met the first stone stair, an unseen wall struck them, vast, unyielding, forcing them back with a silent roar.
Power shimmered in the air, an ocean-wide barrier locking the entire mountain inside a single luminous shell.
“Looks like one last trial,” Jared said, resolve settling over him like armor. He scanned every ripple of energy, every faint rune flickering in and out of sight, searching for the key that might prise the barrier open.
A deep, authoritative voice rolled across the summit, closer than thunder yet nowhere to be seen. “Young ones, you have finally arrived…”
Their hearts jolted. They spun in all directions, but only swirling mist and silent stone answered their frantic glances.
“Do not bother looking,” the voice intoned, calm as ancient wood. “I am already here.”
From the thinning haze stepped an elder robed in flawless white. He moved with the quiet gravity of snowfall, each stride erasing the distance as though the ground itself bent to greet him.
Hair and beard gleamed like new-fallen frost, yet his kindly features could not disguise the centuries etched into his eyes.
A pure, formidable aura radiated from him—so clean and vast that Jared and Sylvia bowed instinctively, the breath caught in their lungs.
Jared straightened, voice respectful. “May we know your name, sir?”
The old man’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. “I am Gareth Hawksley, the last sect leader of Heaven Gate. You may call me Elder Hawksley.”
“The Sect Leader of Heaven Gate?!”
Shock blazed across both faces. Legends spoke of the master, but none had expected to meet him in living flesh, or spirit, upon this very peak.
Elder Hawksley let their amazement wash over him before he continued, voice low and steady. “Yes… Since the sect vanished, I have stood guard over these ruins, waiting for those fated to inherit our legacy.”
“Have you truly been waiting for us this whole time?” Sylvia asked, her brows knitting as the faint glow from the ruin’s torches drew a quiver of silver across her eyes.
Elder Hawksley gave a grave nod. “Indeed… In the two of you, I see a sliver of dawn, one bright enough to rouse Heaven Gate Sect from the ash heap history left behind… Yet, before I entrust that hope to your hands, you must hear a story. It is the naked, unvarnished truth of how Heaven Gate vanished.”
Jared and Sylvia fell silent. Anticipation, sharp as an unsheathed blade pressed against their hearts. The old man drew a breath so long it seemed to scrape the centuries.
Pain and regret simmered in his dimmed gaze. “A thousand years ago, Heaven Gate stood at its zenith. I, as its master, was hailed the unrivaled force of level nine. And that was precisely when a single child altered the fate of us all.”
