Journey to Become the Zenith

Battlefield Drowning in Darkness

Back on the battlefield, Lane continued to fight.

The sky above had become dim beneath layers of dark clouds and corrupt mana. The earth was stained black and red, littered with shattered bones, broken weapons, and the remains of fallen undead.

Every breath carried the smell of blood.

Every step echoed with the sound of battle.

Lane stood atop a mound of destroyed skeletons, her black hair fluttering behind her as she looked toward the endless army marching from the horizon.

”Still coming...”

Her voice was quiet.

Yet everyone nearby heard it.

The undead showed no fear.

No hesitation.

No exhaustion.

Wave after wave continued advancing like a black ocean.

A few surviving fighters exchanged uneasy glances.

”How many have we killed already?”

”I stopped counting hours ago.”

”At this rate there won’t be an end to them.”

Lane didn’t answer.

Instead, she leaped forward once more.

Her body blurred through the battlefield.

A skeleton swordsman swung toward her neck.

Crack!

Her fist shattered its skull.

An undead knight lunged from the side.

Lane twisted her body and drove her elbow through its chest, reducing its ribcage into fragments.

Several zombies rushed her simultaneously.

Mana erupted around her legs.

Boom!

The ground exploded beneath her feet as she dashed through their formation.

Bodies flew in every direction.

Yet even after all that...

More appeared.

Always more.

After attacking the enemy forces a few times, Lane and the other groups converged. When everyone was present, Lane noticed that there were only forty of them left. It would seem that many have died while assaulting the enemy.

The realization settled heavily upon everyone.

Earlier there had been more than twice that number.

Now...

Only forty remained.

Several fighters carried wounds.

Some were limping.

Others had dried blood covering their armor.

One young adventurer silently looked around.

His friend was gone.

Another mercenary stared at an empty spot where her squad should have been.

No one needed to say anything.

Everyone understood.

The dead would not be returning.

Lane bit her lower lip with a rare show of emotions. She who was always stoic and indifferent actually looked a bit frustrated. Though this only lasted for a few seconds, it was enough to give the others a feeling of discomfort. If even their fearless leader was feeling stressed that would mean their situation was truly grave.

A veteran warrior swallowed nervously.

For the first time since the battle began, he saw uncertainty on Lane’s face.

It vanished quickly.

But it had been there.

Brinda noticed it too.

”So even she can get frustrated...”

A weak smile appeared on her face.

Another fighter shook his head.

”We’re still alive because of her.”

”That doesn’t mean she can perform miracles.”

Silence followed.

Lane wasn’t a strategist so this was the best she could do. This battle gave her a reality check. She now knew that even though her individual might was stronger than most, she was still helpless in front of such a large quantity of enemies.

She looked toward the distant sea of undead.

Thousands.

Perhaps tens of thousands.

How many could she kill?

A hundred?

A thousand?

Eventually her body would reach its limit.

Her mana would run dry.

Her muscles would fail.

The realization felt unpleasant.

Lane lowered her gaze.

A bitter thought lingered in her mind.

At this rate, how can I stand beside Victor?

Her fingers slowly tightened.

Victor’s image surfaced in her thoughts.

His black hair.

Those golden eyes.

The quiet confidence he carried wherever he went.

And above all, the strength that seemed impossible to reach.

Lane had always been chasing after him.

Not because he asked her to.

Not because he expected it.

Because she wanted to.

She wanted to stand at his side as an equal.

Not behind him.

Not as someone who needed protection.

But as someone who could fight alongside him.

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

”I still have a long way to go...”

Brinda happened to catch the quiet murmur.

A look of surprise crossed her face.

”The great Lane admitting something like that?”

Lane turned her head slightly.

Brinda gave a small shrug.

”I don’t know... it just makes you seem more human.”

Lane looked ahead again.

”I’ve always been human.”

Brinda fell silent.

When she had first met Lane, all she saw was a cold, untouchable beauty wielding terrifying strength. Lane always appeared calm, efficient, and unwavering. No matter what task Victor assigned her, Brinda felt she would complete it flawlessly—even if it involved walking into a battlefield alone or taking someone’s life.

Yet now, seeing the frustration hidden beneath that composed exterior, Brinda realized something.

Lane wasn’t invincible.

She wasn’t some emotionless weapon.

Beneath the icy calm was simply a young woman carrying burdens that few could understand.

That realization brought both comfort and worry.

A complicated expression appeared on Brinda’s face.

”If even you’re struggling...”

Her voice trailed off.

There was no need to finish.

Everyone understood what she meant.

Lane’s gaze swept across the survivors gathered around them.

Fear lingered in some eyes.

Determination burned in others.

Many simply looked exhausted.

A heavy feeling settled in her chest.

Responsibility.

These people had chosen to follow her.

Now many of them were paying for that decision with their lives.

The weight of that truth pressed down on her far more heavily than any weapon she had ever carried.

Meanwhile, Eon was growing increasingly impatient.

The battlefield had fallen into an eerie silence.

Only the occasional distant growl of undead echoed through the air.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

The tension stretched on until it became unbearable.

Finally, Eon stepped forward.

”So... what do we do now?”

Eon finally asked, unable to hold back any longer.

Several pairs of eyes immediately turned toward Lane.

Waiting for an answer.

Waiting for direction.

Lane didn’t respond right away.

Her gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in every detail—the terrain, the survivors gathered around her, the enemy’s advance, and the condition of the exhausted fighters under her command.

She silently weighed every possibility.

Seeing her remain quiet, Eon frowned.