Draganirs, people from the greatest beyond with mysterious origins, devils that climb the great mountain with only one intention in mind. Spread disease, destruction, and death across the lands with their powers and ideologies. If you were encounter one, pray to the god of abundance and hope you'll see another day.
***
One step!.
Five steps!.
Twelve steps!.
"I'm two hills ahead!"
Vicheam's mind was in a state of distortion; the vision ahead of him was nothing but a blur, the path in a wavelength motion, making him stumble on the uneven cave floor now and then.
It was dark; his only light source was the dangling lantern attached to his belt, accompanied by several daggers rustling in the air.
The only thing that filled his instincts was his will to survive; he had to keep running. He didn't care if the path led to a nest of monsters or cursed ones — If so, he could deal with them, unlike the situation unfolding now.
"There he is!"
A strong voice echoed from behind. It wasn't the usual friendly tone; it was more of the "Catch that guy now!" type of tone. Then there was the sound of heavy men chasing him, each step; the sound came back louder and closer.
Suddenly, he felt his body turn cold. The breezing wind that went against his thin coat barely did its job.
The cold was beginning to fuel deadly thoughts inside his head,
"I'll have to kill them if they continue like this"
Vicheam was in a hurry; his face was flustered with sweat and panic. His panting became heavier and heavier by the minute. He didn't dare look back at the subjugators, his goal still clear: Run.
The young man held onto something dearly, a promise, an artifact given by a long-gone friend.
A key.
He carried it on a necklace, a thick key with a unique design. Its head was shaped like an eye, with jade serving as the pupil. The edge was accompanied by a blade shaped like a leaf.
Vicheam held it tightly before stumbling upon a dead end. The darkness revealed a bottomless sinkhole, with jagged and sharp edges running along with it.
His face let out a defeated sigh, his face going pale at the sight. Vicheam kicked a handful-sized rock at its edge, waiting for it to hit the ground — If there were any.
Vicheam leaned in, trying to do his best to look for the sound.
After a good twelve seconds, the impact was barely audible.
It was deep... very deep.
With a slight gulp, Vicheam realized his fate; he didn't want to die, not yet. Turning to look over his shoulder, he was met with 6 panting men wearing long white leather attire, accompanied by armor plating running down their abdomens: spears and swords in hand.
"Holy crap, this guy kept running even though we fed him venom!".
"We poisoned the fresh water creek with hallucinogen and other stuff that should've left him paralyzed".
They were right. Vicheam's entire body was in agony. His muscles were straining; it felt like his own body was being crushed by his own fibers, and it twitched.
Vicheam looked at the present band of men, each one of whom had untrained portions that told him they were assigned fighters.
"To think we managed to encounter a Draganeer here... We are lucky that we took the equipment with us!" The boldest of the crew said.
"It's been five years since the hierarchy gave your people the ultimatum-."
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"
Vicheam quickly interfered in frustration. He had no clue what they were getting at. He had been travelling around the world. The recent upsurge of human encounters has become a hassle than a relief.
"I have told you bastards, I am not a 'Draganeer' or whatever you call it!"
He shouted back, in anger and confusion. It was always the same; the chasing soldiers had been naming him a 'draganeer' even when he didn't know what it was.
Vicheam's path was blocked, and the soldiers finally confronted him.
"Then explain your mystical magic!".
"No... let's ask him this, your goal... are you also seeking the peak of Rodan?" Another one stepped in, his saber drawn and directed towards him.
He was a bit surprised; Yes, reaching the top was his goal... but how did the soldier know? The soldiers glanced at each other, taking notice of Vicheam's startled silence, and the man who'd asked smirked.
"You're not the first draganeer who's searched for the peak... Just so you know, that goal is out of your reach!". The soldier slowly stepped a few times ahead, surrounding Vicheam from all sides.
Vicheam backed up a bit, closing the edge behind. He drew his sword, a long, thin blade, polished to the point of mirror reflection. A white leather handle with no guard.
"He did it! men! Take position". One of the men gestured with his sword.
One by one, they scattered from each other, their steps slow and cautious. "Look out for the sword! Who knows what he can do with it!".
Barely able to focus, Vicheam started to stumble on his footing backwards, just a few meters closer to the edge. The Venom was starting to affect more.
The poison! What the hell did they put in it?
Asking himself, it was obvious soon as the symmetrical patterns started to form. Vicheam wasted no time, charging one of the soldiers immediately he managed to get a stab in quickly.
His moves were fast and precise; he was fighting three wars at the same time. Against the hallucinating mind, his stiffening body, and the men in front. He couldn't die or be captured, not yet.
He has a mission.
"I'll be damned if I die here! Fools like you have no idea what you're going against!
Fighting against the pain, the soldiers started to back up, shocked to see him still able to move so freely despite the influence of venom.
It sent chills down their spine.
"We picked up a poisonous-looking flower in the area that should've killed him by now". One of them uttered to the other.
"Are you sure it was poisonous!?"
"Of course it was! Everything in the beyond is deadly to consume". The bald one shouted back.
Vicheam continued to wait in patience, awaiting the perfect opening to strike, while striking their shield and swords, his strength overpowering their blades' controls.
"Just what do you guys know about the climb!"
After a moment of trying to make them back, he quickly leaped behind to create a gap.
Vicheam looked over his shoulder, getting a good look at the endless sinkhole. He had one thought: throw their bodies down and leave no evidence if he managed to survive.
It became obvious to him that he was known amongst these men.. and if he wanted a silent journey, he couldn't let himself be recognized.
—Swoosh~
Finding the perfect opening, he raised his blade, the breezing wind flushing against the sharp edge, with a quick slash, one of the men was slashed in the chest.
The fountain of blood dropped cold to the floor, causing panic amongst the group.
In confusion and panic, two of the men charged Vicheam with their spears pointed at him first. Already halfway up the steep, curved stone hill, they began to slow down.
"You damn bastard!"
Their movement was dull, their muscles were tense, and they were no doubt amateurs by the looks of it. Vicheam wasn't any better; he could fight, barely.
His mind became even more blurry, and his senses started to fail him. Before he knew it, his face became pale as a ghost, his eyes drowsy. He was just moments from collapsing.
"We'll kill you, punk!"
The vision ahead of him was an entire mess, and the two charging men started to turn into colorful patterns, alongside the background, too. It was overstimulating, and after taking a deep breath, the concept of time became lost.
"....".
Surrounded by the patternful world and his thoughts.
I need to stand up!
Where am I?
Why am I here?
Every word that came through his mind was a distant echo of the previous one, a nauseating effect that made his thoughts a mess. Getting a look at his own hands, he came fast to realize that his body had been covered by the colorful patterns.
M-My body!? W-What the hell is happening!?
For just the slightest of moments, a red vertical line appeared in front of him. In the form of X, they appeared for a second before a new, stronger X came.
About 6 times.
Get me out of here!
His breath became ragged, breathing for his life. Inside, it felt like his body was twisting in the worst way possible. Where did the soldiers go? Did he get teleported to a new dimension?
No. It was the hallucination of the venom.
At the realization, Vicheam's vision slowly turned back to its previous. The colorful waves began to fade away, the reality of a dark and gray world overcoming the sudden wave of pain.
Vicheam found himself settled on the edge of the sinkhole with his back facing the fall.
The first thing his senses notified him about was the spiking pain in his gut. For some reason, his hands were tightly against his guts.
Lifting his hands to see. There was blood on his hand.
He had been stabbed through his guts.
His eyes widened in shock. Confused by the ordeal, he was quick to look at his surroundings. There were 6 corpses scattered in front of him, imperial soldiers from earlier.
"D-Did I kill them all? W-What just happened?"
"Yes, you did," A man's voice disturbed the silence.
His shoes went cold against the cave floor, deliberately walking towards Vicheam, a figure of a tall man wearing fancier attire than the others. His long white hair flowed down his back, his skin was pale as snow, and his eyes were a distant blue. His gaze was familiar, cold-blooded, and stoic.
He was not like the previous soldier; there was a chilling aura around him, one that suggested mysterious danger.
"I don't think you would've remembered because you went savage and all that". His voice was soft, with a gentle yet threatening nature to it.
Savage? Did I go savage?
Vicheam quickly connected the red dots.
The Venom, I started to see hallucinations, and those six X's
Vicheam turned to the soldiers again. There were six dead soldiers, which meant he had killed them. That must've been the reason his hands were covered in blood!
"Too stunned to speak?"
The white haired man asked. He gazed down at Vicheam like he was an ant. A hint of disgust and disdain was visible on the stranger's face, one that told what Vicheam was getting himself into.
"W-Who are you-"
Trying to form a question, he began to cough up blood; his internal organs had been slashed through and were stopping him from forming a sentence.
"Who am I? A Draganeer like you wouldn't have the reason to know".
The word came again, 'Draganeer'.
"W-What the hell is a Draganeer?" Vicheam uttered, holding against his stomach from letting his organs spill out. Just what was it, what did it mean?
"What? You don't know what you are?" The man seemed surprised but snickered after. "It seems your god didn't care about you enough for it to tell you".
The man's face suddenly turned cold, without saying anything, he sent a kick to the already downed Vicheam.
Luckily, he had good reflexes, and he caught it with his left hand; the sound of harsh bones breaking followed after, already adding to the pain.
Vicheam pushed back his foot before spitting at his other shoe.
"Aren't you a durable one?".
"I'll tell you what you are, you filth, you're entity created by the lost gods below, you come up here to seek the destruction of us humans".
The white haired man spoke like he was talking about the devil himself.
Why is he speaking like I'm not a human? We're the same?
"Tell me, mysterious draganeer, why are you so obsessed with reaching the summit of Rodan?".
Vicheam's eyes widened at the mention. How did he know? It was the first time they'd met, but he knew his goal. Confused, his eyes narrowed with a slight huff. Vicheam smiled, aggravated. hoping to provoke him despite his own sorry state.
"Hah! can't you hear the voices calling for me?
"The summit is calling for my name. I don't belong here; I belong at the top, where I can grasp the stars with my own hands, and to overlook the world that is owed to me".
The man raised an eyebrow, huffing before replying, amused.
"You are truly a curse to our world".
Suddenly, the silver-haired man grabbed Vicheam by the back collar of his shirt. Dragging him to the edge of the sinkhole, holding his face up so he could see the abyss.
"You will never climb again, you will die like everyone before you... I'm glad I came down here. I will be honored by my peers to kill someone like you, you didn't even reach the 100th hill... nor will you".
Vicheam laughed, standing his ground as his goal was not just simple; he lived for it. He has climbed for years,
"I've seen worlds and creatures that aren't of this world, I've conquered every hill I've entered and left.. I won't die like this".
The silver-haired man turned to him, slashing off his broken hand.
Vicheam grunted in agony, seeing his own flesh and bones.
"Says the man who's at my mercy, you don't even have the strength to fight against me, you're completely paralyzed from the waist down. You want to know who I am? I'll be kind and tell you even if it don't matter... It's Lorenzo".
Lorenzo?
"It doesn't matter, though, you'll return to where you came from. Any last words?" The sword Lorenzo held gleamed for a second.
Vicheam gritted his teeth, finding the situation almost amusing.
"This isn't the end. I have kept climbing and climbing. I'll be back up; even death cannot stop me from rising to the skies! I have seen your face, I'll remember it".
With a smirk, Lorenzo tightened his grip, kicking Vicheam back. Vicheam felt himself pushed into the sinkhole.
"... You're persistent for being a dead man".
Lorenzo fell out of sight once Vicheam went further down.
"I'm going to conquer this world! I'll be back, I always come back!" Vicheam lastly shouted before feeling the powerful wind behind against back.