Journey to Become the Zenith-Chapter 92: A Weapon That Walks

A Weapon That Walks

Barely pausing after cutting down the last assassin, Lane moved like shadows at dusk - same calm rhythm, same blade precision. Her steps now, deliberate as before, echoed that earlier stillness when steel met throat without warning. Each motion flowed into the next, unhurried yet never delayed. Silence clung close, a companion more loyal than any ally ever was. Even in aftermath, there was no shift, only continuity - the way breath follows heartbeat.

Now the silence settled into the alley behind her.

Beneath a silver glow, stone paths soaked up pale light. Roofs wore shapes of stillness, where motion once lived. Shattered tile cracked under silence. A thin trace of iron hung low in the air. Night breathed without hurry through Fantom City.

Lane moved right away, collecting the bodies one by one.

One by one.

Out of the shadows between buildings she pulled them, one by one. From high up on rooftops they came, tumbling behind her steps. Where arrows had found their mark - on tight ledges - they dropped into reach, lifeless. She gathered each without pause.

A small heap began rising right where the alley met itself. Then bits kept arriving, nudging it higher. Stuff gathered without asking. The middle held everything now. What fell last settled into what came before. Space filled up quietly. Weight stayed low but noticeable.

Frozen in place, Clara kept her distance, arms folded tight as she took it all in.

The blonde woman leaned against the wall, the moonlight outlining her figure. Her black leather pants and short combat top revealed the toned lines of her waist and abdomen, while her long blonde hair moved softly in the night breeze.

But her attention never left Lane.

Lane crouched beside the pile of bodies and raised one hand.

Mana gathered silently.

A moment later—

Flames ignited.

The fire spread quickly, swallowing the corpses. Cloth burned first, then skin, then bone.

Within minutes the bodies were reduced to ash.

Lane watched the fire burn without expression.

No hesitation.

No disgust. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

No satisfaction.

Just quiet completion of a task.

Clara sighed.

"You really killed them all."

Lane didn’t answer.

The fire crackled softly.

Clara rubbed her temple.

"You should’ve left one alive."

Lane glanced at her.

Clara continued.

"We could have interrogated someone."

Her eyes moved toward the burning pile.

"Or at least left a body intact. Maybe we could’ve found clues."

Lane’s voice came out calm and cold.

"It doesn’t matter."

Clara frowned slightly.

Lane’s black eyes remained emotionless.

"As long as they direct killing intent at me..."

Her voice held no anger.

Only certainty.

"I will kill them."

Clara sighed again.

She had expected that answer.

Lane was nothing like Victor.

Victor fought with excitement.

He enjoyed testing his limits.

But Lane...

Lane fought like a blade.

Efficient.

Precise.

Merciless.

Clara folded her arms again.

"You know, that kind of thinking is dangerous."

Lane tilted her head slightly.

"How?"

Clara shrugged.

"Because sometimes enemies are useful alive."

Lane didn’t respond.

The flames continued burning.

Clara studied her quietly.

She had already learned part of Lane’s story.

Victor had trained her since they were young.

Back when they still lived near Kanal Village.

Victor used to hunt bandits that threatened the village.

And he brought Lane with him.

Not as a spectator.

As a student.

Clara remembered hearing that story.

Victor killing bandits without hesitation.

Teaching Lane to do the same.

Sometimes he even brought Skyla.

Skyla never hesitated either.

If Victor said something was necessary, she simply followed.

But when Victor occasionally brought Videl along...

Things were different.

Videl had always struggled more.

Taking a human life was not easy for her.

Even monsters with humanoid shapes made her hesitate.

Victor had spent years training both girls.

Hardening them.

Preparing them for the reality of battle.

And now...

Lane had reached a frightening level of calm when it came to killing.

Clara watched her silently.

Victor really shaped this girl...

The flames slowly died.

Only ashes remained.

Clara finally broke the silence.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Lane reached into her coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Victor’s list.

She glanced down at it.

Then answered calmly.

"I’m going to do the things written on this list."

Clara raised an eyebrow.

"You’re still following that thing?"

Lane nodded once.

Clara tilted her head slightly.

"Do you need my help?"

Lane didn’t even hesitate.

"No."

The answer came instantly.

Then—

Before Clara could say anything else—

Lane bent her knees slightly and jumped.

Her body launched upward.

She landed on the rooftop above them with effortless grace.

Within seconds she was already running across the rooftops.

Her black dress fluttered lightly behind her as she disappeared into the distance.

Clara stared at the empty roof.

Then sighed.

"She didn’t even say goodbye..."

The wind moved through the alley quietly.

Clara pushed herself off the wall.

She looked toward the direction Lane had vanished.

"That girl..."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"...moves like a shadow."

But the smile faded quickly.

Her thoughts drifted.

Back to Victor.

Her brows tightened slightly.

Those two still don’t trust me.

Even though they were technically party members.

Clara knew it.

She could feel it every time they spoke.

Victor always kept a layer of distance.

Lane barely spoke to her unless necessary.

Clara walked slowly toward the main street.

Her boots echoed against the stone road.

Well...

I can’t really blame them.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Because I don’t trust them either.

Especially Victor.

Every time she looked at him...

She felt something unsettling.

Not fear.

Not hostility.

Something else.

Like there were layers beneath his smile.

Like every word he spoke had another meaning hidden underneath.

Clara muttered quietly to herself.

"That guy..."

She rubbed the back of her neck.

"...always looks like he’s planning something."

Her mind replayed moments she had spent around him.

Victor smiling calmly.

Victor observing everyone silently.

Victor making decisions faster than anyone else.

It irritated her.

Her heart told her one thing.

Her mind told her another.

Her heart said—

He saved you.

When they faced that Necromancer—the terrifying being who controlled corrupted cemetery mana—

Victor had chosen to retreat.

Not because he couldn’t fight.

But because he chose to protect them.

Clara still remembered that moment clearly.

Victor wanted to stay and fight.

She could see it in his eyes.

The thrill.

The challenge.

But he had still chosen to take them away instead.

That meant something.

But Clara’s mind refused to relax.

Saving us once doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy.

She exhaled slowly.

"I still need to watch him."

The words slipped out quietly.

Because Victor was dangerous.

Not just because of his strength.

Because of his mind.

Clara stopped at a crossroads.

Then turned toward the adventurers’ district.

"Well..."

She stretched her shoulders.

"No point standing around."

"If Lane is running errands for Victor..."

"Then I might as well earn some money."

Her lips curved into a faint smirk.

"Solo quest it is."

And with that—

Clara walked toward the Adventurers Guild, her thoughts still lingering on the mysterious man named Victor.