"Since that's the case, let me show you my strength!" Benedict shouted, beginning his ascent up the mountain with his bare hands.
Step by step, he made his way toward the summit.
As expected, the mountain was incredibly high, and it was nearly impossible for an average person to sustain the climb for even half an hour.
Predictably, Benedict fell repeatedly, only to rise and start again each time.
"It's not over yet!" he yelled, even as his energy drained away.
Despite his exhaustion, he refused to give up. Gradually, the mountain did not seem as insurmountable. He kept pushing forward, his hands and feet now completely raw and bleeding. Still, he did not stop. He gritted his teeth and continued to climb.
Unfortunately, he fell again.
Previously, he had managed to use his true energy as a cushion, avoiding severe injuries. This time was different. Having reached a higher point, his strength and energy were utterly depleted, leaving him unable to protect himself with true energy.
This fall ultimately broke his leg.
Perhaps the injuries within the barrier felt different. Benedict experienced excruciating pain, and thoughts of giving up flooded his mind.
A voice whispered persistently, "Just go back the way you came. No one will blame you. You've done your best."
"Shut up! Shut up!" Benedict slapped himself and stood up again tremblingly. "I can do it!" he declared, limping his way up once more.
The outcome was predictable. He barely made it halfway before falling again.
"Give up. You've tried so hard already. It's enough. No one expects you to do this."
"Shut... up," Benedict muttered, barely conscious as he rose once more.
He staggered toward the mountain's base, the inner voice still urging him to quit. His resolve wavered, but his body kept moving forward.
As he touched the surface of the rock, memories flooded back. He recalled asking his father once Dad, is what you're doing now truly what you want?"
He could not remember his father's response, just that his father was still young then.noveldrama
It was a hot afternoon, or rather, a warm one. Everyone was busy, and no one noticed little Benedict. Just then, his father scooped him up in his arms.
...
Throughout his life, though he was
alant
o admit it, Benedict hadet
been under his father's
protection. Content bele adet
He had never genuinely
contemplated his future alone. Het
used to believe that as long as his father was there, there was nothing to fear.
Now, his father, like a precious treasure of the mountain, had been taken from him by vile men. Benedict knew he had to climb, scale this mountain, and face what lay beyond its protective peaks.
He could not lose. He had to reach the summit because he was Benedict Varhess, Anton Varhess' son. Benedict roared, standing once more.
Despite his shattered limbs and broken body, his will allowed him to continue to climb.
He had to conquer this mountain that was towering like a pillar to the heavens.
He would not live in the shadow of anything ever again!