Chapter 9 - The Trial of the Mountain
Ethan didn't flinch. He reached behind his shoulder and gripped the leather hilt of the Dragon Sword.
With a smooth, practiced motion, he drew the blade from its scabbard. The silver steel erupted into brilliant, blinding white light, cutting through the darkness of the mountain pass and reflecting fiercely off the creature's armored scales. The twin dragons carved along the fuller seemed to writhe with living fire, filling the cold mountain air with a resonant, metallic hum that made the ground beneath their boots vibrate.
"You talk a lot for a lizard," Ethan said coldly.
The beast let out a roar of rage and lunged forward with terrifying speed, its massive claws extended to tear Ethan apart.
"Ethan, get down!" Marcus shouted, raising his rifle and unleashing a rapid burst of armor-piercing rounds directly into the creature's chest.
The bullets struck with explosive force, but they flattened harmlessly against the thick, iridescent scales, not even scratching the beast's hide. The creature backhanded Marcus with a casual flick of its wrist, sending the veteran flying into a snowbank.
"Captain!" Ethan yelled.
Fuelled by sudden fury, Ethan didn't wait. He channeled every ounce of strength, every hardship of his past, every memory of his mother’s dying words into his arms, and brought the Dragon Sword down in a ferocious, vertical arc.
The blade met the creature's outstretched claws.
There was no sound of clashing steel. Instead, the Dragon Sword sliced through the obsidian-hard armor as if it were paper. A blinding flash of white energy engulfed the beast, followed by a shockwave that blew the surrounding snowdrifts twenty feet into the air.
The monster froze, its single yellow eye widening in absolute disbelief as a glowing fracture line appeared down the center of its massive body.
"The blood... is real," it choked out before shattering into a billion glittering fragments of light that dissolved harmlessly into the mountain wind.
Silence rushed back into the canyon.
Marcus staggered out of the snowbank, coughing slightly, staring at the empty space where the eight-foot monster had stood a second before. He looked at Ethan, his eyes wide with stunned respect.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side, kid," Marcus breathed, wiping snow from his jacket.
Vance jogged up from the second rover, his jaw nearly hitting the frozen ground. "Did... did you just vaporize a demon with a sword?"
"Let's move," Ethan said, sheathing the glowing blade, his heart pounding in his chest. "We're close. The map says the entrance is just past the ridge."
Ten minutes later, scrambling on foot up a steep, narrow goat trail, they reached the crest of the ridge. Before them lay a hidden, ancient amphitheater carved directly into the heart of the Continental Divide. In the center of the natural stone basin stood a massive circular altar of black basalt, identical to the one in Heritage Hall, but infinitely older, covered in glowing runes that pulsed in time with the heartbeat of the Dragon Sword.
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And standing before the altar, waiting for them, was an old stone archway leading into darkness.
The Heart of the Divide.
