The first thing Martis noticed was the scent: fresh earth, rain-soaked stone, and something sharp, metallic, like the tang of iron. The second was the river. It carved through the valley below, a silvery vein snaking between jagged cliffs. It glittered in the golden light of a sun that seemed larger and warmer than the one Martis had known his entire life.
He stood on a grassy ledge overlooking the expanse, the valley's beauty stretching out before him like a painting too perfect to be real. On one side, mountains jutted upward, their sharp peaks crowned with wisps of cloud. On the other, rolling hills melted into dense forests, their edges blurred by a thin, mysterious mist.
But the serenity was deceiving. The valley carried an undercurrent of unease, a hum in the air like an unspoken warning.
Martis blinked, his senses catching up with him. He realized that the sword has fallowed him. He sheeted it as the blade sparked silver.
"You're lucky that I caught you!" came a voice from behind him.
He turned sharply, sword raised instinctively.
Rias stood on a boulder a few feet away. Her robes rippling in the faint breeze and her horns curved back elegantly from her temples, a crown for a queen of chaos.
She tilted her head, smirking. "Though I wonder what would have happen if I didn't catch you? You probably would have become a spat on the ground."
Martis lowered his sword, his heartbeat steadying. "Where are we?"
"The Dragon's Rest"
Rias gestured toward the expanse. "What's left of it. Once, it was a single, unbroken mountain—a monument to the gods' hubris. Then the Demon King fought The Celestial Dragon here, one of the oldest and most powerful dragons, also know as one of the gods pets. Their battle lasted for days, shattering the mountain and reshaping the land. The dragon fell, its body buried beneath this valley, its essence feeding the creatures that live here."
Martis frowned, his eyes scanning the horizon. The valley's beauty now felt like a cruel facade, hiding the darkness beneath its surface. "And the Demon King?"
Rias's face turned away, her smile turning into a frown." Even victories have their costs. Who knows maybe he is still here, in this world." Said as she turned her head back and smiled.
Martis bit back a retort. He was beginning to hate how casually Rias talked about things that should terrify anyone with common sense.
Instead, his attention was drawn to movement near his feet. A small, fluffy creature emerged from the underbrush, no larger than a housecat. Its fur was pure white, its round eyes wide and curious. It chirped softly, tilting its head as it studied Martis.
"What is this fluffy thing?" he asked, crouching down.
"A pest! " Rias replied, her tone flat. "You shouldn't play with it."
Martis ignored her, extending a hand toward the creature. It sniffed his fingers cautiously before rubbing against his leg, purring like a content kitten.
Rias sighed. "Don't get to close to it, It's dangerous."
But Martis was already pulling out a small notebook and pencil from his satchel. Propping his sword under his arm, he began sketching the creature, his strokes quick and deliberate.
"You're seriously drawing right now?" Rias asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.
Martis glanced up briefly. "Why not? It's adorable."
"It's also about to try and eat you," she muttered, stepping back.
He didn't hear her—or maybe he chose not to. The creature's fluffiness was too distracting, its wide eyes too innocent.
Then it growled.
The sound was low and guttural, a stark contrast to its previously sweet demeanor. Its fur bristled, and its eyes turned a menacing shade of red.
Martis froze, pencil hovering mid-stroke. "Uh, Rias?"
"I told you," she said, already moving farther away.
The creature lunged, its teeth bared. Martis stumbled backward, dropping his notebook as he grabbed his sword. He swung wildly, but the blade felt impossibly heavy, dragging him down like a lead weight.
"Why won't it work?!" he shouted, his voice tinged with panic.
"You can't even use your weapon, the one created just for you?" Rias called out, her tone laced with mockery.
Martis gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting as more creatures emerged from the shadows. They were larger than the first, their glowing eyes and sharp claws a stark reminder that this was no ordinary valley.
"Rias, how about you help me then?" he pleaded, his voice cracking.
She smirked, leaning casually against a tree. "I already wasted my assist saving you from falling. You're on your own now."
Martis cursed under his breath, his grip on the sword tightening. He tried to swing again, but the blade refused to cooperate, its weight anchoring him in place.
The creatures closed in, their growls a deafening chorus.
"Focus!" Rias barked, her voice cutting through the chaos with an authoritarian tone. "If you don't take this seriously, you're going to die."
Her words struck something deep within him—a spark of clarity amidst the panic. Martis took a deep breath, his mind racing.
The creatures lunged.
He stepped forward, shifting his weight, and swung the sword with all his might. The blade felt lighter, responding to his movement, and sliced through the air with a faint hum. The lead creature yelped, stumbling back, and the others hesitated, their predatory confidence faltering.
Rias raised an eyebrow. "Well, look at that. You didn't die. Progress."
He didn't have the energy to argue. The creatures retreated into the shadows, their glowing eyes disappearing one by one.
As the adrenaline faded, Martis sank to his knees, his body trembling. The sword felt natural in his hand now, as if it had been waiting for him to take it seriously.
Rias approached, her ember eyes flickering with something unreadable. "You're not completely hopeless," she said, her tone almost… approving.
Martis let out a shaky laugh, brushing dirt off his tunic. "High praise coming from you."
She didn't respond, instead turning her attention to the horizon. The sun was setting, casting the valley in hues of gold and crimson. The beauty of the Dragon's Rest was undeniable, but Martis couldn't shake the feeling that it was a beauty meant to lure the unwary into danger.
As they continued deeper into the valley, the river whispered its secrets, and the mountains stood like silent sentinels. Martis tightened his grip on the sword, determined to prove to himself—and to Rias—that he wasn't just some pawn in this game.
But even as he walked, he couldn't ignore the weight of her gaze, those ember eyes watching him like twin flames, ready to burn him if he faltered.