The mountains loomed over us as we pushed onward, their jagged peaks cutting into the horizon like fractured blades. The crisp air grew colder with every step, the wind howling through the rocky passes and carrying with it the faint scent of snow.

Despite the grueling pace, we didn’t dare slow down. The encounter with the Ravagers in the ravine had left us shaken, a stark reminder that the threats in this world extended far beyond Ecclesion’s soldiers.

“Still no sign of pursuit,” Orin said, his eyes scanning the path behind us as he brought up the rear.

“For now,” Jessa said tersely. “But Ecclesion has agents everywhere. If they’re not already on our trail, they will be soon.”

“Well, I’m just thrilled about our next steps,” Farron muttered, his breath misting in the cold air. “Mountains, tight passes, and locals who’ll probably try to kill us before we say a word. This is my dream adventure.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay,” Jessa shot back, her tone sharp.

“Please, I’d miss you too much,” Farron said with a grin, though it lacked his usual confidence.

The trail narrowed as we climbed, the rocky path winding through steep cliffs and precarious drops. Snow clung to the higher peaks, and the ground beneath our feet grew treacherous, dusted with frost.

We came across a makeshift trail marker—a wooden post jammed into the ground, its surface scratched with strange, jagged symbols.

Jessa paused, her hand hovering near her dagger. “Clan markings,” she said, her voice low.

“Friendly ones?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

She shook her head. “Depends on who you ask. But if we’ve crossed into their territory, we’ll need to tread carefully.”

“What do they want?” I asked.

“Control,” Orin said simply. “The clans of the north don’t follow one leader. Each controls its own lands, and they guard them fiercely. Some see Ecclesion as an enemy, but others see them as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?” I asked, frowning.

“Power,” Jessa said. “Some clans think siding with Ecclesion will secure their survival—and their dominance.”

“Wonderful,” Farron muttered. “So, we could be walking into either allies or a trap. Fifty-fifty odds.”

“Better than Ravagers,” I said.

“Not by much,” Farron replied.

We pressed on, the trail growing steeper and narrower. The wind bit at my face, carrying with it faint, haunting sounds—low, guttural chants that echoed through the mountains.

“What is that?” I asked, stopping to listen.

“The clans,” Orin said, his voice low. “Rituals. Prayers. Battle songs. Depends on the clan, but it means we’re close.”

“Close to what?” Farron asked.

“Finding out whether they’ll kill us on sight,” Jessa said.

I glanced at her, trying to read her expression, but her face was as unreadable as ever.

The trail opened into a narrow valley, its rocky floor strewn with snow and jagged boulders. Smoke rose in thin columns from a cluster of tents and wooden structures built into the cliffside. Figures moved among the camp, their silhouettes stark against the pale light of the sky.

Jessa raised a hand, signaling us to stop. “Let me go first,” she said.

“Why you?” Farron asked.

“Because I know how to talk to them,” she said. “And because they’re less likely to shoot me.”

“That’s... not comforting,” I said.

“Stay here,” Jessa said, ignoring my comment. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

She descended into the valley, her movements deliberate and slow, her hands raised slightly to show she wasn’t armed.

We watched from the ridge, tension thick in the air as she approached the edge of the camp. A group of figures emerged to meet her, their movements cautious but purposeful.

The leader stepped forward—a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in thick furs and leather armor, his face painted with streaks of white and red. He carried a massive axe slung across his back, and his eyes gleamed with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

They exchanged words, though we couldn’t make out what was being said. Jessa gestured toward us once, and the leader glanced up, his gaze locking onto mine for a moment before returning to her.

“What’s the plan if this goes south?” Farron whispered.

“Run,” Orin said. “Fast.”

“Great plan,” Farron muttered.

Jessa eventually turned and waved us forward.

“Well, that’s our cue,” I said, trying to steady my nerves.

“Just don’t trip over your destiny, Chosen One,” Farron said, clapping me on the shoulder.

As we descended into the valley, the eyes of the clan members followed us, their expressions a mix of suspicion and thinly veiled hostility. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and iron, and the low hum of distant chanting echoed through the camp.

Jessa met us halfway, her expression tight. “They’re letting us speak to their leader. Don’t do anything to offend him.”

“Define ‘offend,’” Farron said.

“Don’t talk,” she snapped.

“Got it,” he said, though the grin on his face didn’t inspire confidence.

The leader introduced himself as Serek of the Ironhowl Clan. Up close, he was even more imposing, his weathered face lined with scars that told stories I didn’t want to hear.

“You travel through our lands,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Why?”

“We’re heading for the southern mountains,” Jessa said. “We need passage.”

Serek studied her for a long moment, then glanced at the rest of us. “And why should we grant it?”

I stepped forward before I could think better of it. “Because Ecclesion is a threat to all of us. If we don’t stop them, there won’t be any lands left to defend.”

The clan members murmured among themselves, but Serek’s expression remained unreadable.

“You speak of war,” he said. “But you bring no army, no strength. Why should the Ironhowl risk its people for your cause?”

“Because if you don’t, Ecclesion will take everything,” I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. “They’ve already taken most of Kaedralis. If you think they’ll stop at your borders, you’re wrong.”

Serek’s eyes narrowed. “Brave words for one so small.”

He stepped closer, towering over me. “The Ironhowl respects strength. Show me yours, and I will decide whether you are worth listening to.”

Before I could react, Serek swung his axe, the blade stopping inches from my face.

“Prove yourself,” he growled.

The challenge hung in the air like a blade.

Jessa’s eyes flicked to me, her expression unreadable. Orin tensed, his hand on his knife, but he didn’t move.

Farron whistled softly. “Good luck, Chosen One.”

I tightened my grip on my dagger, my heart pounding in my chest.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

This was going to hurt.

The axe gleamed in the pale light as Serek stepped back, his imposing frame radiating authority. Around us, the clan members formed a loose circle, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism. The air buzzed with anticipation, and I felt the weight of every eye on me.

Jessa’s voice was low but firm as she stepped closer. “Ash, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, he does,” Serek said, his tone final. “If he cannot fight for his own survival, he has no place fighting for ours.”

I took a deep breath, gripping my dagger tightly. My mind raced with possibilities, but none of them ended with me walking away unscathed.

“Okay,” I said, stepping forward. “Let’s do this.”

Serek smirked, his scarred face twisting into something that could almost be called amusement. He raised his axe, its edge catching the faint light. “You have spirit, Chosen One. Let’s see if you have skill.”

The clan members stepped back, giving us space. The circle was silent now, the air thick with tension.

Farron leaned closer to Jessa, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. “You think he’s got a shot?”

Jessa didn’t answer.

Serek came at me fast. For someone his size, his movements were shockingly fluid, the axe slicing through the air in a wide arc.

I barely managed to dodge, the blade missing me by inches. My heart hammered in my chest as I scrambled back, trying to create distance.

“Come on, boy,” Serek growled, his voice low and challenging. “Show me what you’re made of.”

I tightened my grip on the dagger, the faint hum of its shadow energy vibrating against my palm.

Focus. Stay calm.

I activated Shadow Veil, the world shifting slightly as the ability wrapped me in its obscuring embrace. The whispers of the shadowed world made Serek’s movements more predictable, his strikes slower in my heightened perception.

He swung again, the axe cutting low. This time, I sidestepped and lashed out with the dagger, aiming for his exposed side.

The blade connected, leaving a shallow gash across his arm. Serek grunted, more surprised than hurt, and stepped back, his grin widening.

“Not bad,” he said, flexing his arm. “But you’ll need more than tricks to win.”

He lunged, feinting high before swinging the axe low again. The feint caught me off guard, and the blunt edge of the axe caught my side, sending me sprawling to the ground.

Pain flared through my ribs as I hit the dirt, gasping for air. The crowd murmured, their voices a distant hum against the pounding in my head.

“Get up,” Serek growled, standing over me. “Or stay down and prove me right.”

Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself to my feet. My hand shook as I raised the dagger again, its dark blade flickering faintly.

“Still standing?” Serek said, his grin almost approving. “Good.”

I lunged, this time aiming for his legs. He swung the axe to block, but I activated Shadow Step, vanishing into the flickering shadows and reappearing behind him.

The dagger sank into the back of his thigh, and Serek roared in pain, staggering forward.

The crowd erupted into shouts, some cheering, others jeering.

Serek turned, his face twisted with a mix of anger and exhilaration. “Clever,” he said, gripping his axe tightly. “But don’t think this is over.”

The fight blurred into a series of strikes and dodges, each move pushing me closer to exhaustion. Serek was relentless, his strength and experience forcing me to rely on every trick I had.

But slowly, I began to see an opening.

He favored his left side now, the wound in his thigh slowing his movements.

I waited for the next swing, feinting right before darting left. His axe came down hard, but I was already behind him, my dagger slicing across the back of his shoulder.

Serek stumbled, dropping to one knee. His axe hit the ground with a heavy thud.

The circle fell silent.

I stepped back, breathing hard, the dagger still trembling in my hand. My vision swam with exhaustion, but I forced myself to stand tall.

Serek looked up at me, blood dripping from his wounds. For a moment, I thought he might lunge again, but then he laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that echoed through the valley.

“Well fought,” he said, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. “You’ve earned my respect, Chosen One.”

He turned to the crowd, raising his voice. “The Ironhowl Clan honors strength, and this one has proven his. We will hear what they have to say.”

The clan members murmured among themselves, their expressions shifting from suspicion to grudging approval.

Jessa stepped forward, her expression a mix of relief and disbelief. “That was reckless,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “But it worked.”

Farron grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “Not bad, Ash. For a minute there, I thought we were going to have to scrape you off the ground.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered.

Serek approached, his massive hand outstretched. “Come. Let us talk. The Ironhowl may be rough, but we are not unreasonable. If you seek allies against Ecclesion, you will need more than strength. You will need wisdom.”

I nodded, shaking his hand.

The first step toward forging alliances had been taken.

But as I looked at the rugged faces of the clan members surrounding us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the hardest battles were still ahead.

That night, we sat with Serek and his council around a roaring fire. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and smoke, the conversation tense but productive.

The Ironhowl knew of Ecclesion’s expansion, and they weren’t blind to the threat it posed. But like the other clans, they valued their independence above all else. Convincing them to join our fight would take more than a single victory.

“Ecclesion’s power comes from fear,” Serek said, his voice steady. “They crush all who stand against them, but they cannot crush what they cannot reach. The mountains are ours. They will not take them easily.”

“They don’t need to take them,” Jessa said. “They only need to divide you.”

Serek frowned, his jaw tightening. “What are you proposing, then?”

“A coalition,” Jessa said. “The clans, the Freeholds, the resistance—we need to unite. If we don’t, Ecclesion will destroy us one by one.”

The fire crackled, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

Serek was silent for a long moment before nodding. “You’ve proven your strength. Now you must prove your cause is worth dying for.”

His eyes locked onto mine, his expression unyielding.

“You may have won the fight, Chosen One. But the war has only begun.”

The fire crackled softly in the silence that followed Serek’s words. His council members sat on either side of him, their expressions varying from interest to skepticism. The night air was sharp and cold, the flames casting flickering shadows on the rocky walls of the camp.

Serek leaned forward, his scarred face illuminated by the firelight. “You speak of unity as if it is so easily achieved, Chosen One. But unity comes at a price. Trust is rare among the clans, and even rarer when it comes to outsiders.”

Jessa spoke before I could respond, her tone calm but forceful. “We’re not asking for blind trust. We’re asking for cooperation. Ecclesion’s strength grows by the day. If the clans don’t act soon, there won’t be anyone left to resist.”

One of the council members, a woman with braided hair and a jagged scar running down her cheek, shook her head. “You underestimate us. The Ironhowl has stood for centuries. We’ve repelled invaders before, and we’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t like anything you’ve faced,” Jessa countered, her voice rising slightly. “Ecclesion doesn’t just march armies into battle—they infiltrate, divide, and corrupt. By the time you realize what’s happening, it’ll be too late.”

Serek raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that rippled through the council. His sharp eyes turned to me. “You’ve shown strength, Chosen One. But strength alone is not enough. Tell me, what would you ask of the Ironhowl? Do you seek warriors? A safe haven? Or something more?”

The weight of his question settled on my shoulders, and for a moment, I struggled to find the right words. My mind raced, thinking of everything Jessa had told me about the Nexuses, the resistance, and the fractured state of the world.

“I’m not asking for a single battle,” I said finally, my voice steady. “I’m asking for a chance to stop Ecclesion at its core. Their power isn’t invincible—it’s tied to the Nexuses, the ancient places they’ve claimed as their own. If we can sever those connections, we can weaken them. Maybe even destroy the Light Eternal itself.”

The council stirred at the mention of the Nexuses, their murmurs growing louder. Serek’s expression didn’t change, but I caught a flicker of something in his eyes—recognition, perhaps.

“The Nexuses,” Serek said slowly, his voice thoughtful. “I have heard tales of such places. Ancient and powerful, but dangerous.”

“They’re real,” Jessa said. “And Ecclesion guards them fiercely. The Chosen One isn’t just here to fight—he’s here to unmake their power. But he can’t do it alone.”

The braided woman frowned. “And you expect us to throw our lot in with you based on a prophecy?”

“Not just a prophecy,” I said, my tone firm. “What Ecclesion’s done—what they’re still doing—is proof enough. They won’t stop until they control everything. Your independence, your lands, your people—they’ll take it all if you let them.”

Serek leaned back, his massive arms crossed over his chest. “And what happens if we follow you? If we risk our warriors and our blood for your cause, and you fail?”

I hesitated. The truth was, I didn’t have an answer for that.

“If we fail,” Jessa said, stepping in, “then Ecclesion wins. But standing alone guarantees failure. If we stand together, we have a chance.”

The fire crackled as Serek considered her words. The other council members exchanged glances, their murmured debates just out of earshot.

Finally, Serek stood, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the fire. “You’ve given me much to think about, Chosen One. The Ironhowl does not act lightly, but we are not blind to the threat Ecclesion poses. If what you say is true, then these Nexuses may hold the key to defeating them.”

He stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “But words alone will not bind the clans. If you seek our aid, you must earn it—not just with strength, but with action.”

“What kind of action?” I asked, my voice steady despite the growing tension.

“There is another clan,” Serek said. “The Frostblades. They border our territory to the north, and their leader, Kordek, has long been an ally—until recently. He has begun trading with Ecclesion, allowing their agents safe passage through his lands. If you can confront Kordek and convince him to turn against Ecclesion, you will prove that your cause is worth fighting for.”

The task felt monumental, but I nodded. “We’ll do it.”

“Good,” Serek said, his tone carrying a hint of approval. “I will send two of my warriors with you. They will guide you to Frostblade territory and ensure your safety.”

“Safety?” Farron muttered under his breath. “Not sure anyone can guarantee that.”

Ignoring him, Serek turned to the council. “We will reconvene when the Chosen One returns. Until then, the Ironhowl will hold its position and prepare.”

As the meeting ended, Jessa pulled me aside, her voice low. “This isn’t going to be easy. Kordek’s ties to Ecclesion won’t be broken with words alone.”

“I know,” I said, the weight of the mission sinking in.

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “You handled yourself well with Serek. But this is just the beginning. If we can’t convince Kordek, the clans won’t unite. And without them...”

She didn’t finish the thought, but she didn’t need to.

That night, I sat by the fire, staring into the flames as the others rested. The wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it a deep sense of unease.

The clans, the Nexuses, the looming shadow of Ecclesion—it was all interconnected, threads of a tapestry I was only beginning to see.

If we could turn Kordek against Ecclesion, it would be a step toward uniting the clans. But if we failed...

I shook the thought away, gripping my dagger tightly. The road ahead was steep and dangerous, but for the first time, it felt like we were moving toward something real.

Tomorrow, we would leave for Frostblade territory.

And I would find out if this fragile alliance could hold.