Sinclair's stomach dropped as the words burned across his vision. The prompt had been sitting there, complete, ignored, while he'd thrown himself into fights with half his strength. He rubbed his thigh, the ache in his muscles sharp under his palm, now apparent for what it was, a warning he had refused to see.

Images flashed unbidden: claws raking his side, the tunnel floor slick with his blood, Victoria's hands trembling as she forced the healing through him. If he'd claimed the cultivation when it finished, maybe the fight would have ended differently. Perhaps the wound wouldn't have been so close to killing him.

His hand curled into a fist. The screen snapped shut. Every piece matters. Miss one, and it all comes crashing down.

Pillars of Urd: Stone Level Unlocked

Description: The strength of warriors lies not only in their might but in their unbreakable bond with the past, drawing power from the wisdom of those who came before. By unlocking the Pillars of Urd, your connection to this ancient legacy deepens. The essence of Urd, the Norn who embodies the past, fortifies your stance, granting you balance and resilience rooted in the foundation of Midgard itself. As you move, each step is grounded in that strength, every motion echoing the wisdom and endurance of warriors long gone.

Effects:

Heightened Reflexes:

The flow of energy sharpens your reactions, enabling you to dodge threats and execute counterattacks with unparalleled speed.

Keen Coordination:

Your sense of balance and spatial awareness is enhanced, allowing for precise movements and mastery of complex maneuvers.

Power Infusion:

+25 to base Strength, imbuing your strikes with the force of unyielding might.

Graceful Agility:

+35 to base Agility, granting swift and fluid movements, ideal for both combat and traversal.

Sinclair's eyes flicked down his list of dormant nodes, the faint glow of the screen casting pale light across the rough stone around him. His gaze lingered on the entries at his head and spine before moving on. Those could wait, too dangerous to attempt here. His focus settled on his hands and elbows. Practical, but not vital.

He pulled up the mana requirements: twenty-eight uninterrupted hours. Down here, with the air heavy and still, it could stretch closer to thirty. He exhaled through his nose, already calculating the window.

Thank you, sweet girl. The next set should be done in about thirty hours. Remind me around dinner tomorrow, and I'll check on them again.

Leia's thought brushed back, calm and steady. We are here for you, Sinclair.

He dismissed the screen and lifted his head toward the others. "The tunnel runs straight to an overlook above the beasts. No branches. Keep quiet. If you can't see in the dark, hold on to someone who can." He gestured sharply, setting them into motion.

They filed in behind him, steps slow and measured. The dark swallowed them whole, so deep it seemed to press against the skin. The only sound was the soft scrape of boots on stone and the low click of wolf claws. Hands brushed along the damp walls for balance, fingers slick with condensation.

Far ahead, a pinprick of light glimmered. The faint glow refracted on the wet stone, scattering into fleeting shapes that twitched with every step. The pinprick grew, stretching into a ragged oval that outlined stalactites dripping from the ceiling and stalagmites pushing upward from the floor.

The tunnel widened, its walls falling back, and the mountain opened before them. The exit yawned into open air, the sky beyond pale and streaked with thin clouds. Peaks rolled in every direction, jagged and immense, their ridges shadowing the valley below.

Sinclair raised a hand. The group halted. He moved ahead alone, shoulders low, boots rolling heel to toe in near-silence. At the mouth of the opening, he crouched, eyes narrowing as he swept the valley.

The horde was still there. Larger. What had seemed broken at Acrovney had only swollen into something worse. The creatures spread across the valley floor like a black tide, their numbers impossible to count. And worse, splinters of them peeled off, heading toward the town.

Sinclair's jaw flexed. So much for buying time.

He lifted his gaze higher, tracing the vertical sweep of the mountain above. Sheer walls of stone loomed into the clouds, their mass so vast it pressed down on him just to look at it. A thought cut sharply into his mind: break the mountain, bury them. The idea had weight, brutal and effective, but the execution? Without tools, without control, the risk of crushing his own people hung over it like the stone itself.

His teeth ground together. Dammit. Is it too much to ask for a single break?

The truth settled heavy in Sinclair's gut. Defense alone wouldn't hold. The horde would keep swelling until it broke everything in its path. That meant moving first, even if lives were lost. The weight of that choice pressed on him as he motioned the others into a half-circle in the tunnel's shadow. Dropping to a knee, he kept his voice low.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I'm open to suggestions. Thought about dropping part of the mountain on them, but mining takes drills and blasting. From what I've seen, even on TV, it'd make more noise than we can risk."

Ed stepped forward, arms folded. "What's the ground like? Between them and Acrovney. Anything we can use?"

Sinclair leaned back on his heels, recalling the view. "The valley runs long, like a teardrop. We're high on the right-hand ridge, looking north toward Acrovney. But the narrow end curves between bigger ridges, I can't see past that bend."

Ed grunted. "We need the whole picture. Otherwise, we're guessing."

Rose and Alice traded a look, nodding in agreement. Sinclair's jaw tightened. Was he letting fear blind him? He let out a breath, then gave Ed a slight nod. "You're right. Thanks, brother."

He stood, voice steady. "We'll head back to the entrance. If it's clear, we drop the slope and regroup at the trees. Stay in cover. The wolves scout deeper; they'll move quieter than we can."

Alice smirked. "Speak for yourself, lead foot."

The corner of Sinclair's mouth twitched, but he pressed on. "We'll push toward the bend and reassess. If something crosses our path, kill it quickly. We're out of time."

The plan was simple, direct. They moved to ready themselves without argument. Buckles tightened, weapons checked, wolves pacing with ears high. Glances passed between them, an unspoken agreement, a line drawn in the dim light of the tunnel.

Sinclair led them out into the open. The last of the sun painted the peaks gold, shadows clawing long across the valley. The slope pitched steeply beneath their boots, rock shifting loose under every step. They moved slowly and carefully, weight balanced forward, each slip caught before it became a fall.

Beyond the slope stretched bare ground, a strip of rock and scrubland lying between them and the treeline. The forest loomed dark ahead, its edge thick and silent. The stretch between was empty, but the kind of empty that carried teeth. Every shadow across the stone was watched, every gust of wind was weighed for sound.

They descended together, their silence broken only by the crunch of rock and the low growl of wolves at their sides.

At the treeline, the wolves spread out, instinct carrying them into a wide arc. Leia took the lead, her head low, eyes slicing through the gloom ahead. Chewy lingered in the rear, every muscle taut, ears flicking at each shift of wind behind them. Argenta, Bruiser, and Zephyr curved out to the flanks, padding just far enough to seal the gaps and guard the approach from the woods.

Their paws whispered against the soil. Sinclair tracked them only because the Visage sharpened his hearing, the brush of paw against leaf litter, the faint stir of air displaced by their movement. To anyone else, they would have been invisible, a presence without sound.

Alice broke away, running light along the roots of a nearby oak before flowing upward. Her hands and feet found holds without hesitation. Bark did not creak, leaves never stirred. Within seconds, she was gone into the canopy, her outline fading among the branches.

Sinclair tilted his head back to follow her rise. A low breath escaped him. He had once been light enough for such climbs. Not anymore. Two hundred forty pounds at the start of this journey, now his frame carried another hundred on top, all muscle and mass. Every step left an imprint in the soil, shallow but visible. Strength came at the cost of subtlety, and he bore the weight with each stride.

The group pressed forward in formation, wolves sliding through the underbrush, humans threading between them. Each pace came measured, deliberate. The air clung damp and heavy, carrying no sound beyond their own. Silence had weight here.

Victoria and Rose matched stride for stride, their lungs steady despite the drag of branches across arms and shoulders. Magic was their calling, but endurance kept them with the line. The forest crowded them, trunks tight, canopy low, but their spacing held firm.

The valley walls fell back as they advanced. The towering cliffs gave way to rounded ridges, the incline softening under their boots. Sinclair noted the shift in the land, the curve ahead hidden beyond the trees.

No game trails cut the earth. No rustle of deer, no flutter of wings, not even the drone of insects. Only the soft drum of boots and the muted click of claws. Sinclair caught Ed's glance. Ed's jaw was rigid, eyes scanning the empty treeline. For him, the silence said more than words could, the land was wrong, its pages stripped bare.

Twenty minutes passed before the forest thinned. The canopy broke apart, and the night opened above them. They slowed, drawing tight together at the threshold. Grass rolled out ahead, bending in waves under the breeze. Pale flowers dotted the field, their petals trembling. The meadow stretched broad, open, and exposed, ridges shadowing its far edge.

Alice dropped from above. She landed in a crouch, sound swallowed by the earth. Rising, she pushed a strand of hair from her face, eyes alight, the thrill of her passage through the canopy etched across her grin.

At the meadow's edge, the group slowed, eyes shifting to the open fields ahead. The grass rolled out under the night sky, silvered by the moon overhead. Shadows stretched long across the ground, edges blurred by the pale light. Every step forward would be visible, every sound carrying farther than it had under the trees.

The wolves spread again, low to the ground, ears pricked. Sinclair stood still for a moment, gauging the shift. The moonlight provided them with enough light to see, their altered vision sharper than before, but not natural. Fighting like this would take adjustment.

He drew in a breath and spoke low. "We keep moving. Moonlight's enough, and your endurance scores will carry you. No long rests tonight. We cross and find cover near the range in case anyone does need to stop."

Ed nodded first, his arms folded tight across his chest. "I'm fine. Let's push on." His eyes stayed on the grassland, mapping the terrain as though he could force it to reveal every secret.

Alice and Rose followed with small nods, shoulders squared. Determination showed plain in the set of their jaws, the kind that came from nights like these, when silence and trust mattered more than words.

Victoria gave a short laugh, the sound breaking the weight for a moment. "Let's get this done. I want a bath when we get back."

The edge of tension eased as smiles passed through the line. Even the wolves seemed to settle at the sound, tails flicking once before returning to alert stillness.

Sinclair let the quiet linger a moment, then glanced across the faces of his friends. "Here's how we'll do it." His voice was steady, his eyes sharp.

The group leaned in, listening closely, the meadow ahead waiting in silence under the moon.

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