Atlas felt the weight of the Night Spire's fang settle against his hip, fashioned now as a sharp dagger bound in a makeshift grip. He admired the dagger touching along the edge, catching the sunlight that filtered down from the dense canopy above. This weapon—born from the very fang of a paragon-ranked beast—seemed almost too powerful to hold, as if imbued with an ancient energy waiting to be unleashed. Alongside it, he now had God's Will, the cloak with a veil of darkness that fell over him, its golden runes softly glowing with a promise of concealment.
Ivan watched him prepare, a grin of approval stretching across his face. "The gods have blessed you with power," he intoned. "And the jungle will test it."
Atlas nodded, feeling the weight of both the responsibility and the opportunity. Summoning these items into his hands was like breathing; his connection to his Aether room made it feel natural, as if these weapons were extensions of himself. He tightened the hood over his head, and his face vanished, hidden by the power of God's Will.
They ventured deeper into the jungle, the air thick and humid, filled with the heavy scent of damp earth and leaves. The sound of distant creatures occasionally pierced the silence, but Atlas kept his focus on the path, attuned to every movement.
It wasn't long before another predator found them.
An UmbraCoil slid silently into view, its long, dark-scaled body weaving between the trees, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. The creature coiled and prepared to strike, and Atlas felt his heartbeat quicken. Unlike the last encounter, he was ready, his grip tightening around the Night Spire dagger.
With his hood pulled low, he engaged his Aether, summoning his Warp ability to blink forward, vanishing just as the UmbraCoil lunged. He reappeared behind its massive head, where its thick, scaled neck stretched out. Channeling all his momentum, he slashed downward in a single, decisive strike. The dagger, sharper than anything he'd wielded before, cut through the tough hide with ease. The UmbraCoil let out a strangled hiss, collapsing in a heap before it could retaliate.
The Bounders voice whispered in his ear announcing his kill.
He took a breath, feeling the surge of accomplishment tempered with caution.
Just as he turned to check on Ivan, he felt the presence of more. Three UmbraCoils slithered out from the underbrush, surrounding him. Their scales shimmered in dark hues, and their eyes fixated on him, narrowed and calculating.
Atlas steeled himself, realizing this was no easy fight. He couldn't just rely on a single strike to take them all down—he'd need strategy and endurance.
One of the UmbraCoils struck, lunging at him with its fanged maw wide open. Atlas warped out of its path, appearing to its right and slashing at its body. The dagger cut deep but didn't finish the creature, which reared back with a hiss, blood oozing from its scales.
Another attacked from his left, catching him off guard. He twisted out of the way, but the creature's tail lashed out, striking him across the shoulder and sending him stumbling. He could feel the sharp ache from the blow, and his grip on the dagger tightened. The third UmbraCoil struck at his legs, forcing him to leap back. As he landed he decided now was the time to act. He warped to the side, positioning himself away from their strikes.
With each movement, he felt the drain on his Aether reserves; Warping this much really took a toll on him especially after not getting enough rest between his previous paragon encounters.
His total Aether was sitting at around five percent which if he used now it would surely leave him to dry in case of another emergency.
He shifted his approach, warping directly behind one of the injured UmbraCoils and plunging the dagger down into its back. The beast writhed in pain but couldn't retaliate in time, as Atlas twisted the blade deeper. With a final shudder, it collapsed, lifeless.
"You have killed an UmbraCoil, Rank: Sentinel"
"Your core has grown stronger."
He turned to face the remaining two, sweat beginning to drip down his face. The last two were visibly angrier now, their scales raised as they flanked him on either side. They lunged together, forcing Atlas to warp out of their reach, barely dodging their simultaneous strikes.
Running low on Aether, he couldn't keep up the rapid warping. Instead, he relied on pure reflex, ducking under the first creature's swipe and slashing upward with the dagger, catching it under its jaw. The second attacked immediately, but he used the blade to deflect its fangs, narrowly avoiding another strike. In a quick movement, he twisted to drive the dagger through its exposed neck, finally bringing it down with a heaving breath.
"You have killed an UmbraCoil, Rank: Sentinel"
"Your core has grown stronger."
"You have killed an UmbraCoil, Rank: Sentinel"
"Your core has grown stronger."
Atlas staggered back, feeling the burn in his muscles. The three UmbraCoils lay motionless at his feet. Ivan stepped forward, nodding with satisfaction.
"Well done," he murmured, his expression unreadable. "The gods will it, and you endure."
***
The next couple of days passed in similar tension, each night growing darker, the threat of danger more pervasive. Every time they rested, the memory of the Night Spire looming in the sky reminded them that they weren't safe, even for a moment. Twice during their journey, they had to hide under thick foliage as it swept overhead, its shadow casting a chill that seemed to pierce even the heat of the jungle.
They kept a strict silence, moving carefully until the beast passed. Atlas was haunted by the thought of its keen sight,, he felt the familiar sting of fatigue settling in—constant vigilance was draining.
Finally, after what felt like a relentless trek through the oppressive jungle, Ivan stopped, pointing ahead. "There," he said, his voice a low murmur. "We're almost there."
Atlas followed his gaze. In the distance, the White Temple loomed, a stark contrast against the vibrant green of the jungle. Its walls were tall and ancient, gleaming under the dappled sunlight that broke through the canopy. Despite the danger that surely awaited them, Atlas felt a surge of determination.
A single day's journey was all that remained before they reached their first destination.