thief of fate-Chapter 77: The second stage has ended

Valerian moved cautiously, his hand on his dagger, eyes half-closed as he looked ahead. The air here was thick.

He spoke in a low voice, without turning. "We feel it... don’t we?"

Alistair answered. "Yes. It’s like something is watching us from behind the rocks."

Zenith didn’t comment. As usual, he simply kept walking in silence, his eyes scanning the ground and horizon. His face was as stone-like as ever, showing no sign of concern or curiosity.

Leonard, however, was behind them, holding a somewhat torn map, trying to match it to what they could see. "We should be close to the passage... just a few hundred meters and the Arinval Mountains will come into view from behind this rise."

"Nice," Valerian muttered, then added to himself, "But I don’t trust ease when it comes suddenly... something’s wrong."

As they climbed the rise, the picture became clear.

A valley. Or rather, a deep, wide chasm, terrifying in its breadth. The cracked rocks below showed the fury of nature. No bridge, no road, just emptiness stretching between the two sides. On the opposite shore, they could see a stone gate carved into the mountain, the one the wise man had told them about: the gate to ascend to Arinval. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Dammit..." Alistair cursed, kicking a small stone that fell into the chasm, its sound fading before it hit anything. "No road? Nothing about this on the map, genius?"

Leonard sighed, hiding his annoyance. "The passage was there in the past... maybe it was swept away by the landslides. Or something else removed it."

"It doesn’t look recent," Zenith finally spoke in a low voice. These were his first words since the day began.

Valerian sat on a rock, his breathing slow, his thoughts preoccupied. "Is this a test? Did whoever made this road intentionally cut it off? Or has someone already passed and sealed it?"

"Alternate map, Leonard."

The latter pulled out another sheet, larger, folded carefully. He opened it on a nearby rock. "There’s a side path, we need to go back a little and turn east. But the problem is..." He paused for a moment, then added: "It passes through an area called... the Thornlands."

Alistair smiled, but his smile was heavy with sarcasm. "A name that really inspires confidence."

Valerian stood up, dusting off his pants, and said calmly: "Better than waiting here. Or risking jumping and dying. Let’s go."

The side path was narrower, covered with strange thorny plants, violet and white, growing from the ground as if searching for something to pierce. The thorns weren’t rigid; they moved slowly, as if they were breathing.

Alistair spoke, using his sword to push some away from the path: "These plants... don’t look like anything in the herb books."

Leonard responded, watching one move as they got closer: "Because they’re not natural. Most likely... magical."

Valerian paused, focusing on them. Then pressed his forehead when that familiar screen appeared before him:

[Stay away from this place.]

"Great..." Valerian muttered.

Suddenly, Zenith noticed something. "Three creatures have been watching us for 10 minutes. They move between the thorns..."

Alistair replied with a scowl: "And you were planning to inform us before they attack?"

Zenith shrugged lightly. "As long as we haven’t started fighting, there’s no need to panic."

Leonard began to jot something down in a small notebook. "If this land is enchanted, we might be able to determine what kinds of energies are controlling it. Some of the thorns retreat as we pass, while others move towards us."

Valerian suddenly said: "There’s a mind behind this place."

They looked at him, but he didn’t explain. He was looking at the thorns as though they were eyes. These aren’t plants. They’re sensors. And someone... or something... is watching from a distance.

At some point, the ground exploded in front of them, and strange creatures surged out: a mix of insects and reptiles, with sharp jaws and limbs covered in black thorns. They weren’t many, but they were annoyingly fast.

"Fight!" Alistair shouted, leaping backward, brandishing his spear.

Zenith didn’t speak but charged forward, his sword cutting through the air like a transparent scythe. Each strike cleaved a creature in half, leaving the other half to twist before disintegrating into ash.

Valerian felt his body moving almost on its own, as if something within him yearned for battle.

"Let’s hurry through!" he shouted, slicing through one of the creatures with a sideways strike, then pushing Alistair: "Keep moving!"

Leonard stabbed several of them with his spear as they surrounded them. "They’re blocking the way behind us! No turning back!"

Alistair shouted, "Then we keep going forward!"

The battle lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When they reached an area free of thorns, the creatures stopped chasing them. Some retreated, while others disappeared into the ground.

They all breathed heavily.

"This... this wasn’t natural. Neither their movements nor their sudden retreat."

Alistair sat on a rock, clutching his arm which had been scratched slightly: "I don’t like places where nature acts like a trained soldier."

Valerian sat down, this time without speaking. But his gaze was focused on something distant... within him.

That entity... warned me. So it doesn’t want me dead yet. But it didn’t intervene. Is it just watching? Or is it waiting for the right moment?

They continued their journey in relative silence. The thorns gradually lessened, and the ground began to take on a more rocky, less lively form. Suddenly, at the last turn, the mountains appeared before them. Majestic and grand.

Everyone stopped.

Leonard said, with a tired smile: "We made it... despite everything."

Alistair said: "This is just the entrance. Don’t start celebrating."

Valerian raised his eyes to the sky, then muttered:

"Arinval..."

But he wasn’t just looking at the mountain. He was looking beyond it. At what they would face.

He looked at his companions. Only four, but in them, there was enough courage, doubt, weakness, and strength to stir a storm.

The sun had begun to dip toward the horizon when they emerged from the Thornlands into a natural clearing.

Valerian sat on a flat rock near the edge of the clearing, slowly removing his gloves while watching the faces of the other arrivals.

There were dozens. Some had arrived shortly before them, others were still entering through various passages between the mountains. The sounds were few, whispers mixing with breaths of exhaustion. No one was laughing. No one was smiling. Only silent glances between those who survived.

"They’re more than I expected," Leonard said, standing behind him, wiping his spear with a cloth, then adding sarcastically: "I expected to find a larger number than this."

Leonard chuckled weakly, his voice hoarse: "I guess the losers stayed behind on the road."

Zenith didn’t comment. He stood on a raised edge, his eyes moving between the faces, as though searching for something.

"How much time is left?" Valerian asked in a calm voice.

Leonard answered, glancing at his watch: "Five minutes. Then the passage closes permanently, and the survivors will be announced."

Valerian slowly nodded his head. Five minutes... just five minutes separating them from the next phase. But strangely, he didn’t feel relief, not even satisfaction. Just... emptiness. As though the road had taken something from him without him noticing.

The faces began to clear up more. Some were sitting on the ground, stretched out as if they had lost consciousness. Others knelt, drinking from water skins, silently crying. Amid all this, Valerian spotted a familiar face.

"Selina..." he whispered.

She was sitting under the shadow of a high rock, her disheveled hair covering half her face, her clothes torn at the edges, dry blood on her left hand. But she was there. Alone.

"Are you going to go to her?" Alistair asked.

Valerian shook his head. "Later."

Minutes passed like hours. Each minute met with the arrival of another competitor. Some arrived running, some crawling, some... were carried by their companions.

Then, suddenly, a voice echoed from above the stone wall, no one knew from where. No men, no messenger, just a booming echo that shook the clearing.

"Time is up. The roads are closed. The number of qualifiers has been recorded: exactly one hundred. The second phase is over."

Silence. Then the sound of the gate slowly opening.

But no one moved.

Leonard said, in a contemplative tone: "One hundred... exactly."

Valerian approached the gate but didn’t enter. He just stood before it, looking into the darkness. He saw images that didn’t belong to this place: a picture of Raine, fighting. A picture of Selina, screaming in the investigation, pleading for the world to listen. A picture of the entity, that cold voice appearing on the screens, warning him of everything... and leaving him for everything.

Then, for the first time in a while, he thought with a voice that wasn’t his:

"Did we choose to continue, or did the road choose us?"

An inner echo answered him, without a face:

"You are the only one who thinks you have a choice."