Rise of the Peerless God of War

Chapter 13

The journey back to the surface felt like climbing out of a nightmare.

Draven's head was still spinning with new memories, new skills, new knowledge that felt both foreign and familiar at the same time. Every step reminded him of a different combat technique. Every breath brought tactical insights from commanders who had died centuries ago. Every heartbeat pulsed with the accumulated wisdom of heroes he'd never met but now knew intimately.

This is what it means to carry the dead, he thought. This is what grandfather prepared me for.

"You sure you're okay?" Jin asked for the dozenth time as they climbed through the catacombs. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Well, more ghosts than usual."

"I'm fine," Draven lied. "Just tired. That was... intense."

Intense. Right. Try having the final moments of three hundred heroes burned into your brain.

But he couldn't tell them that. Couldn't explain that he now knew seventeen different ways to kill someone with a dinner fork, or that he understood magical theory that wouldn't be taught at the academy for another fifty years. They'd think he was crazy.

Or worse, they'd think he was dangerous.

"The spirits seemed to really focus on you," Lyra said carefully. "In the final chamber, I mean. Like they were trying to tell you something specific."

They were trying to give me everything they had. Their skills, their knowledge, their power. And they succeeded.

"They were grateful," Draven said instead. "For helping them find peace."

It wasn't entirely a lie. The spirits had seemed more at rest after the memory transfer, like they'd finally accomplished what they'd been trying to do for centuries.

Sera was walking beside him, her silver eyes studying his face with that unnerving intensity she had. "You know," she said conversationally, "most people would be traumatized after an experience like that. But you seem... different. Calmer. Like you've found something you were looking for."

Because I have. I've found my purpose.

"Maybe I'm just good at handling stress," Draven said.

"Maybe," Sera agreed, but her tone suggested she wasn't buying it.

They reached the main entrance to the catacombs as the sun was setting. Other student teams were already there, reporting their findings to Gale and the other instructors. Most of them looked tired but triumphant—they'd cleared out hostile spirits, catalogued interesting artifacts, and returned safely.

None of them had fundamentally changed the balance of power between the living and the dead.

"Ah, there you are," Gale said as they approached. "I was beginning to worry. The other teams returned hours ago."

"We took the scenic route," Sera said with a slight smile.

"And what did you find on this scenic route?" Gale asked, though his gray eyes were focused on Draven.

He knows something's different. But how much does he know?

"Hostile spirits, like the others," Draven said. "But we managed to put them to rest. The deeper chambers should be peaceful now."

"Interesting," Gale said. "The magical sensors detected some unusual activity from the deep sections. A significant power surge, followed by... nothing. Complete silence."

The pendant. The memory transfer. Of course he detected it.

"Must have been the spirits finally moving on," Lyra said quickly. "Sometimes they release a lot of energy when they find peace."

Gale nodded slowly. "Yes, that would explain it. Well done, all of you. Your report can wait until tomorrow. Get some rest."

As they walked back to the academy, Draven felt the weight of new knowledge settling into his mind. Combat techniques from master swordsmen. Magical theory from scholars who'd spent lifetimes studying the nature of power. Tactical knowledge from commanders who'd led armies against impossible odds.

So much to process. So much to understand.

But underneath it all was something else. A sense of urgency, of danger approaching. The memory surge had been powerful—powerful enough to be detected by anyone with the right equipment.

And I'm not the only one who knows about echo magic.

The thought came unbidden, along with memories that weren't his own. Academy heroes who'd faced enemies that could track magical signatures. Battles fought against those who would steal power from the dead.

The Shadow Moon Sect. They've been searching for someone like me for generations.

"You're doing it again," Jin said, breaking into his thoughts.

"Doing what?"

"Looking like you're planning a war," Jin said. "Or like you're expecting one to start."

Maybe I am.

But Draven just smiled and shook his head. "Just thinking about what comes next. We've got classes tomorrow, and I'm way behind on my theoretical magic studies."

Theoretical magic. Right. As if I need to study theory when I have the practical knowledge of three centuries of masters.

They reached the dormitory as the last light faded from the sky. Other students were already settling in for the night, comparing stories from their various missions. The atmosphere was celebratory—they'd all survived their first real test outside the academy walls.

"I'm going to hit the books," Draven said as they reached their room. "Catch up on what I missed."

"You sure?" Jin asked. "You could probably use some sleep after today."

"I'm sure. See you in the morning."

But Draven didn't go to the library. Instead, he made his way to the academy's oldest wing, following memories that weren't his own. Master Elena Brightwater had hidden something here, decades ago. Something that might be important now.

The passage was concealed behind a false wall, just as the memory had shown him. Inside was a small chamber filled with books, scrolls, and artifacts that had been forgotten by the academy's current administration.

Elena's private collection. Research into ancient magic, forbidden techniques, and things that shouldn't exist.

Draven pulled out a leather-bound journal and began to read. The entries were written in Elena's careful handwriting, documenting her research into something called "echo magic" and its connection to dimensional barriers.

"The ability to commune with the dead is rare, but not unique. Throughout history, there have been those who could absorb the memories and skills of the deceased. Most went mad from the experience. But a few—a very few—learned to control the power."

"These individuals were both blessed and cursed. Blessed with the accumulated knowledge of ages, cursed with the burden of carrying so many deaths. They were hunted by those who would steal their power, protected by those who understood their importance."

"The Shadow Moon Sect has been searching for such an individual for centuries. They believe that someone with true echo magic could break the barriers between dimensions, allowing their masters to enter our world."

Masters. What masters?

Draven flipped through more pages, his heart racing as he read Elena's research. The Shadow Moon Sect wasn't just interested in echo magic—they were servants of something from another dimension. Something that had been trying to break into the mortal world for centuries.

"The Celestial Invasion was not random. It was orchestrated by beings from the higher dimensions, using the Shadow Moon Sect as their agents. They failed because they could not find a suitable conduit for their power."

"But if they ever found someone who could channel the voices of the dead, someone who could bridge the gap between dimensions..."

The journal entry ended abruptly, as if Elena had been interrupted. But Draven didn't need to read more. He understood.

They're looking for me. Or someone like me. And the power surge from the catacombs just told them exactly where I am.

He closed the journal and leaned back in the dusty chair. The knowledge from the academy heroes was still settling in his mind, but now it was accompanied by a growing sense of danger.

I need to get stronger. Fast.

The memories provided dozens of options. Hidden sites across the kingdom where ancient artifacts were buried. Tombs of legendary warriors who had died in battles that predated the academy. Places where the boundary between the living and dead was thin.

Sakura Valley. War God Tianlong's tomb. The memories show it clearly now.

The greatest battle in academy history had been fought there, against an invasion from the celestial realms. War God Tianlong had made his final stand, using techniques that had been lost to time. His tomb contained not just his body, but the accumulated knowledge of the war gods who had come before him.

That's where I need to go. That's where I'll find the power to face what's coming.

But first, he needed to convince his friends to come with him. Without telling them why, without revealing the full extent of his abilities, without letting them know that they were about to become targets in a war that had been brewing for centuries.

Just another day in the life of the hollow prince.

Draven returned to his room to find Jin already asleep, snoring softly. He settled into bed and closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come easily. Every time he dozed off, he was pulled into dreams that weren't his own—memories of battles fought by the academy heroes, visions of the dangers that were coming, glimpses of a future where the Shadow Moon Sect succeeded in their plans.

But there was hope too. In the memories, in the knowledge, in the power that now flowed through him.

The academy heroes hadn't died in vain. They'd left him everything he needed to finish what they started.

He just had to survive long enough to use it.

As dawn approached, Draven finally drifted off to sleep. But his dreams were filled with the sound of footsteps in the darkness, of robed figures moving through the night, of eyes that watched from the shadows.

The hunt was beginning.

And he was the prey.

But he was also the hunter now, armed with the knowledge of legends and the power of the dead.

Let them come, he thought as sleep finally claimed him. Let them all come.

They're about to learn what it means to face the accumulated fury of every hero who ever died protecting this world.

They're about to face the hollow prince who wasn't hollow after all.

And they're going to lose.