Rise of the Peerless God of War

Chapter 19

The apex predator was dead, but the cost was written on Jin's face.

He knelt beside the massive stone spear he'd created, his skin pale as parchment and blood trickling from his nose. The effort of channeling that much earth magic had pushed him far beyond his limits.

He gave everything. Literally everything.

That spear took every ounce of magical energy he had.

"Jin," Draven said, kneeling beside his friend. "Talk to me. How bad is it?"

How bad is it? He looks like he's dying.

Because he might be. That's what happens when you use more magic than your body can handle.

"I'm okay," Jin said weakly, but his voice was barely above a whisper. "Just... tired. Really tired."

Tired. Right. The kind of tired that comes from nearly burning out your magical core.

The kind of tired that kills people.

"You're not okay," Lyra said, her wind magic gentle as she examined him. "You've got magical exhaustion. Severe magical exhaustion."

Magical exhaustion. When you use more power than your body can safely channel.

When you push yourself past the breaking point to save your friends.

When you act like a hero.

"But I'm alive," Jin said, managing a weak smile. "We're all alive. That's what matters."

All alive. Because Jin was willing to sacrifice himself for the rest of us.

Because he understood what it means to be a hero.

Because he did what needed to be done.

"You saved us," Sera said quietly, her shadow magic checking the perimeter for threats. "That spear... it was incredible."

Incredible. And nearly fatal.

The kind of technique that should have killed him.

The kind of sacrifice that heroes make.

Draven helped Jin to his feet, supporting his weight as they looked around the battlefield. The massive sakura tree lay still, Jin's spear protruding from its trunk like a monument to their victory. Around them, the smaller trees had retreated, no longer hostile but still watchful.

The valley's changing. Accepting us.

Recognizing that we've proven ourselves worthy.

That we understand what it means to sacrifice for others.

"The path's open," Lyra observed, pointing toward the heart of the valley where the largest sakura tree stood. "Look."

She's right. The tree that holds Tianlong's tomb. The air around it is different now.

Welcoming instead of threatening.

Ready to reveal its secrets.

A path had appeared through the forest, marked by blossoms that glowed with soft inner light. The hostile trees parted to create a clear route, their branches no longer reaching to attack but instead forming an honor guard.

An honor guard. For heroes who proved themselves worthy.

For people who understand that some things are worth dying for.

"Can you walk?" Draven asked Jin.

Because we need to reach that tomb. We need to claim what we came for.

Before the Shadow Moon Sect catches up to us.

Before something else goes wrong.

"I can walk," Jin said, though he swayed on his feet. "I just need... support."

Support. From friends who won't let him fall.

From people who understand that heroes take care of each other.

They made their way along the glowing path, Jin leaning heavily on Draven's shoulder. With each step, the valley felt more peaceful, more accepting. The magical pressure that had been weighing on them since they arrived was lifting.

The guardians approve. They've seen what we're willing to sacrifice.

They know we're not grave robbers or treasure hunters.

We're inheritors. Successors. The next generation of heroes.

The massive sakura tree at the valley's heart was unlike anything they'd ever seen. Its trunk was wide enough to house a small city, and its branches disappeared into the clouds above. Ancient runes covered its bark, glowing with gentle silver light.

War God Tianlong's tomb. The resting place of legends.

The repository of power that could save the world.

Or destroy it, if it falls into the wrong hands.

At the base of the tree, a doorway had opened—or maybe it had always been there, hidden until they proved themselves worthy. Stone steps led down into darkness, and the air that emerged carried the scent of incense and ancient magic.

The tomb entrance. Finally.

After everything we've been through, we're finally here.

But as they approached the entrance, Sera's shadow magic flared in warning.

"We're not alone," she said quietly. "Multiple contacts. Human. Moving with purpose."

The Shadow Moon Sect. They followed us here.

They've been waiting for us to clear the guardians, to open the path.

Now they want to steal everything for themselves.

"How many?" Draven asked, his hand moving to his sword.

How many enemies? How many people willing to kill for power?

How many obstacles between us and what we came for?

"Six," Sera said, her shadows spreading out to gather more information. "Maybe more. Professional fighters, moving in formation."

Professional fighters. Trained killers.

People who know exactly what they're doing.

People who won't hesitate to murder four academy students.

"Can we avoid them?" Lyra asked, her wind magic stirring nervously around her.

Avoid them? With Jin barely able to stand and all of us exhausted from the fight?

Not likely.

"Doubtful," Draven said. "They're between us and the tomb entrance."

Between us and everything we came for.

Between us and the power that could save the world.

Which means we go through them.

Or we don't go at all.

"So we fight," Jin said weakly, trying to straighten up. "I can still—"

"You can still collapse and die," Lyra interrupted. "You're in no condition to fight anyone."

She's right. Jin's magical exhaustion is severe.

Using any more magic could kill him.

Could burn out what's left of his magical core.

"Then we protect him," Draven said simply. "And we get to that tomb."

Protect him. Fight the Shadow Moon Sect. Claim Tianlong's legacy.

All while exhausted and outnumbered.

Just another day in the life of heroes.

Dark shapes emerged from the forest around them, moving with the fluid grace of trained killers. They wore the black robes of the Shadow Moon Sect, and their faces were hidden behind masks that seemed to absorb light.

Shadow Moon Sect. Here for the same thing we are.

Except they want to corrupt it. Use it for their masters.

Turn War God Tianlong's legacy into a weapon against the world he died protecting.

"Students of the Imperial Academy," one of them said, his voice like grinding glass. "You have done us a great service by clearing the guardians."

A great service. Right.

We risked our lives so they could waltz in and steal everything.

That's not happening.

"Now stand aside," the figure continued. "What lies in that tomb is not meant for children."

Not meant for children. But meant for interdimensional cultists?

I don't think so.

"I don't think so," Draven said aloud, his sword sliding from its sheath. "That tomb belongs to heroes. Not grave robbers."

Heroes. People who understand what sacrifice means.

People who are willing to die for others.

People like us.

The Shadow Moon Sect leader laughed, a sound like breaking bones. "Heroes? You think you're heroes? You're children playing with forces beyond your comprehension."

Children. Right.

Children who just killed a guardian that's been protecting this place for three centuries.

Children who've proven themselves worthy of War God Tianlong's legacy.

Children who aren't going to back down.

"Maybe," Draven said, fire beginning to flicker around his hands. "But we're the children who are going to stop you."

Stop them. Fight them. Win.

Because that's what heroes do.

They stand between the darkness and the light.

They protect what needs protecting.

They sacrifice what needs sacrificing.

The Shadow Moon Sect members raised their hands, and darkness flowed from their fingers like liquid night. Not normal shadow magic—something corrupt, wrong, touched by power from other dimensions.

Corrupted magic. Power that shouldn't exist in this world.

Power stolen from the spaces between realities.

Power that's about to be used to try to kill us.

"Last chance," the leader said. "Stand aside, or die."

Last chance. Right.

Our last chance to prove that we're worthy of this power.

Our last chance to show that heroes don't back down.

Our last chance to save the world.

"We'll take option three," Draven said, his fire flaring brighter.

Option three. Fight.

Win.

Become the heroes we were meant to be.

The battle erupted around the tomb entrance, fire and shadow clashing in the gathering darkness.

This is it. This is where we prove ourselves.

This is where we show the world what we're made of.

This is where we become legends.

Or die trying.

The Shadow Moon Sect had experience and training on their side.

But we have something they don't.

We have each other.

We have friendship.

We have the willingness to sacrifice everything for what we believe in.

And that's going to have to be enough.

Because it's all we have.

And sometimes, it's all heroes need.

Ancient magic stirred in the air around them as the battle began.

The tomb is watching. Tianlong's spirit is watching.

The guardians are watching.

Everyone who ever died protecting this place is watching.

Time to show them we're worthy.

Time to show them we understand.

Time to become the heroes they died believing we could be.

The darkness pressed in around them, but Draven's fire burned brighter.

Because that's what fire does.

It burns away the darkness.

It shows the way forward.

It refuses to be extinguished.

No matter what.