C11 Entering the Mountain of Flames Alone

"Waiter, you've been patient enough. Go ahead with your tasks. Here's a tip for your trouble..." Rupert said, realizing there was no point in continuing the conversation. He waved the waiter off with a dismissive gesture.

"I wouldn't presume to suggest, sir, but your mink seems a bit lethargic. Perhaps it could benefit from some fruit to boost its energy? It looks rather listless..." Rupert nodded in agreement.

"Could this little sable be homesick? Since leaving Fristin, I've noticed it seldom stirs on your shoulder, and there's drool at the corners of its mouth..." Erik observed.

"No worries. I've cared for many animals and understand their behaviors. This mink might be struggling to adjust to the new climate and hasn't shaken off the summer heat. Let's make sure it drinks more water later on..." Rupert replied. But something seemed off. "Big brother, take a look at Spark here. Why has it been so listless since last evening? It ate some fruit, but now it's vomited it all up. Wow! That's quite a mess. Big brother, I'll find something to clean this up so we won't trouble the waiter further. Huh... Big brother, what is this odd thing Spark has vomited? It's quite peculiar..."

Upon clearing away the vomit, Rupert was startled to find something unusual—a small, hard object, emerald green and glistening. It must have been difficult for Spark to swallow. He rinsed it in the basin and saw three characters inscribed in a remarkably standard small seal script: "Key of Heaven!" Rupert, take a look. Is this the relic you mentioned before, one of the mountain's secrets, and the token we need?

Rupert picked up the object, lost in thought for a moment. "Relic of the Gods... Relic of the Gods..." he murmured. Could Spark have known to swallow it? For now, let's let it rest. I think we should all turn in early tonight.

After a restless night filled with plans, Rupert rose early the next day to wait for his big brother...

Rupert had spent the night tossing and turning, clutching the Key of Heaven, feeling an inexplicable surge of excitement in his veins. Faint totemic images began to form in his mind, reminiscent of visions from his childhood illnesses. He recalled the teachings of his master from the Dragon Spine Mountains and the advice of his mentor, Kerwin. If he wished to remove the tattooed totems from his body, he would need to seek out the Sage.

"Rupert! The essence of martial arts isn't to overpower the weak but to harness its full potential," I recalled my mentor's teachings as if he were speaking beside me. "Moreover, Master specifically mentioned that there's a seal within you. Should you encounter the Sage, ask him to attempt unlocking it. Within you lie memories of your past life, along with a long-suppressed internal strength. Once unleashed, you'll ascend to new heights!"

"Master! All I want to understand is why I'm haunted by these totem tattoos. How do I deal with the incomprehensible in this life?" I had been jolted awake from a dream. As dawn broke, many were already busy preparing the horses. Rupert and the group had finished breakfast, yet he seemed unusually somber—a first for him.

Rupert approached his elder brother, "Big brother, I wish to ascend the Mountain of Flames alone. Let Zach and the others guard you on the main road. We'll regroup at Celestial Dew. I'll stay connected with you…"

"Why must you go alone and face this danger? If there's trouble, we could all respond together…" Rupert expressed his concern for his younger brother.

"Big brother! As your sibling, I've always kept you informed. Master once said that encountering this key would be my fate. Had there been any treasures in the Western Regions, I might have abstained. But now, with the Key of Heaven's emergence, I must seek the third relic to piece together a complete ending. You know I've always been a free spirit; let me take this challenge. If I haven't arrived by the 20th of August, continue on and fulfill the Emperor's mission."

"If we fail to meet as planned, it may mean I've encountered trouble, and I fear I won't be able to report back to the Emperor. Initially, I intended to use my presence to draw out the factional disputes. Though the Han Dynasty enjoys peace and prosperity, internal strife abounds. I aim to use this opportunity to set a trap for the assassins en route. Don't fret over me; let Zach accompany you first…"

Rupert took a small knife and sheared off a large tuft of his hair, handing it to his elder brother with a solemn instruction, "If you find yourself unable to reach me, present this hair to the emperor and explain that I encountered thieves on the road and perished. Let the emperor receive this message..."

Despite the danger, Rupert couldn't bear the thought of his brother being consumed by worry for him. Though they were both grown men, their bond was unbreakable. It made sense for them to part ways and take separate paths. Rupert pressed on alone into the mountains, but solitude inevitably brought with it a sense of boredom and loneliness. He pondered over the nature of the Relic of the Gods. According to the drawings, it was nothing more than a stick—what could possibly be so extraordinary about it?

The Mountain of Flames lived up to its name. As Rupert journeyed on, the landscape was barren, with not a blade of grass in sight. The withered trees were a uniform yellow, and as the ascent grew steeper, the heat intensified rather than the cold. It was so sweltering that it induced dizziness and an unquenchable thirst. Even the mounts grew restless and their steps faltered. Thankfully, Rupert had brought extra water. Spark, having expelled a token the previous night, seemed revitalized after a night's rest. The creature scampered energetically from the horse's head to Rupert's shoulder, resembling a tactician directing their course. Was it a natural talent, or did Spark truly know the way? The little fellow never had a moment's rest...

At the journey's midpoint, Rupert was confronted with a three-way fork in the road. He sighed in exasperation, "Oh dear! Which path should I take? Each one is overgrown with grass taller than a man, making it impossible to discern the best route. How can there be no one ahead or behind us in such a place?"

The paths were indistinguishable, offering no clue as to which direction was north, south, east, or west. They stretched onward, seemingly without end. In the midst of Rupert's quandary, Spark, who had exerted little effort thus far, suddenly became a flurry of activity. The creature stood on the horse's head and pointed emphatically to the left with an elongated finger. "Spark! Are you suggesting I take the left path?" (Spark appeared to understand and nodded) "But why not the right or the middle? They seem smoother to me."

At that moment, Spark burst into a frenzied dance, hands and feet flailing like fireworks exploding in a fit of rage. Frustrated by his owner's refusal to heed his advice, Rupert had no choice but to give in. "Fine, fine, fine, we'll go left. There's no need for such anger. Isn't it just a path? The other one looks similar anyway..."

Spark remained silent. Rupert rode on, bouncing along the trail, while Spark stood proudly at the horse's head like a valiant soldier. The further they went, the hotter it became, defying the cool expectations set by the forest. "Hey, Spark, do you hear that? Sounds like water! I think we've hit a dead end. Did you lead us the wrong way?" Spark gave no response, and Rupert, with a resigned shrug, continued on despite the lack of any clear path or signpost.

Intrigued by an inscription on a nearby tombstone, they read: "The river of quicksand never ceases its flow; three thousand goose feathers sink to its depths. All brave souls turn back here; only a deity could cross this river!" Rupert scanned the banks for a boat, but found none. The ominous words sent a shiver down his spine, tempting him to consider turning back.