Chapter 140: Breathless Climbing
The slope gradually steepened, the low grasses giving way to gray rockslides and bare patches of earth battered by wind. The barely visible trail wound between eroded granite boulders that stood like silent sentinels.
Maggie led the way, her gaze scanning the ground with hawk-like intensity, evaluating each foothold, each shadow cast by the rocks. There was no more walking in a straight line: they had to weave between unstable zones, loose stones, steep inclines where a single misstep could be fatal.
Élisa, just behind, had become their living compass. She no longer walked, but floated a few centimeters off the ground, her body tilted forward slightly, carried by her spear pointed like a rudder. Her eyes were half-closed, and her sigil pulsed with a steady, almost peaceful emerald light.
She perceived the world differently now that she had awakened. Her elven senses had sharpened somewhat, and all the training she’d undergone before becoming a hunter now proved very useful.
"Left," she said softly, with a small hand motion. Maggie immediately veered, skirting a large slab of shale that appeared solid. As they passed, Dylan nudged a small pebble that rolled onto the slab. It wobbled ever so slightly, revealing a dark void underneath. A natural, hidden trap.
Higher up, the wind turned sharper, carrying the scent of cold dust and mountain lichen. The path narrowed between two steep walls—a tight corridor where echoes rang strangely. Élisa slowed, a faint crease on her forehead. Her spear vibrated almost imperceptibly.
"Let’s stop," she murmured, her voice carried along the narrow wind. "Up ahead... it’s faint, but... better stay alert."
Three pairs of eyes scanned the overhanging ridges. Nothing stirred among the jagged rocks. Yet tension settled like a fog. Maggie pointed with her chin toward a partial landslide on their right—a longer detour, but out of sight from above.
Without a word, they left the corridor, carefully stepping over unstable stones and melting into the shadows of the wall. Dylan, at the rear, kept watch behind them, Jian held low but ready, posture relaxed but alert. No jokes from him this time—none came to mind. His focus was absolute.