Re-Awakening: I Ascend with a Legendary class

The light dropped Almond and Lily onto a mountain peak of bare grey stone, and the cold hit a breath before the view did.

Far across an ocean of black treetops, hundreds of kilometers distant, a second peak caught light from nowhere and held it, glowing soft and gold against a sky that had no sun to explain it.

”That’s the way out,” Lily said, reading the beacon the way she read everything. ”And whatever’s between us and it isn’t decoration.”

The forest below was not simply dark. Darkness moved through it, thick and slow, pooling between trunks that seemed to lean away from what little light escaped the peaks on either end.

Three strangers stood a short distance off, and all three had already stopped looking at the forest and started looking at Almond and Lily instead.

The lean one spoke first, twin curved sabers resting easy across his shoulders. ”Two of them, working together already.” His eyes flicked to his companions. ”We’d be fools not to do the same.”

The broad one grunted agreement, hefting a warhammer that looked heavy enough to crack the peak itself. ”Fine by me. Three against two isn’t cheating. It’s math.”

The cloaked one said nothing at first, small blades already fanned between gloved fingers, calculating something the other two weren’t bothering to.

”There’s an easier way,” he said finally. ”Why race through that at all?”

He stepped back from the peak’s edge, called a pair of dark wings from his shoulders, and launched himself out over the black canopy without waiting for anyone’s opinion on the plan.

He did not get far.

The moment his boots left solid stone, something vast and silent seized him out of the air, and his wings simply stopped answering him, folding uselessly against a fall that gravity alone had no trouble finishing.

He struck the canopy hard enough to be heard from the peak, and a furious, chastened voice rose back up through the leaves a moment later.

”No flying,” he snarled, more to himself than anyone. ”Fine. Fine!”

”Guess we’re all walking,” the broad one said, and grinned like that suited him just fine.

---

They went down together after that, five bodies dropping into a forest that had been waiting patiently the whole time.

The darkness did not simply sit between the trees. It hunted.

Shapes peeled away from the black the instant the ground took their weight, wolves built from shadow and old malice, eyes burning the dull red of embers dying slow.

Almond’s Grimblade was already in his hand before the first one closed the distance, and he read it the way the cave had taught him, one clean cut finding the exact seam where its darkness held together.

The wolf came apart in a spray of ember-light and dust.

Lily’s whip sang out beside him, silence trailing off the tip, and the second wolf’s snarling howl simply stopped mid-note, its whole body going still and toppling before it understood it had already lost.

”They’re not the real danger,” Lily said, already turning. ”Watch our backs.”

She was right to say it. The lean one came in low and fast the moment their attention split, both sabers flashing in a scissoring cross meant to open Almond from hip to shoulder before he could turn.

Almond caught the crossing blades on his own, steel screaming, and read the strike’s owner in the half second their weapons locked. Fast. Confident. Overextended.

He turned the lock into a pivot, let the sabers slide past his ribs by a hair, and answered with a rising cut that forced the lean one into a full backward leap to keep his own throat where it belonged.

”Good reflexes,” the lean one said, breathing hard, already circling for another angle.

”You’ll need better than reflexes,” Almond said.

The broad one arrived a heartbeat later, warhammer already descending in a two-handed swing meant to end the fight in a single blow, and the ground under Lily’s feet cracked wide where she had been standing a moment before.

She was three feet to the side already, whip lashing out to catch the hammer’s return arc, silence eating into the weapon’s momentum until it dragged like it was swinging through water instead of air.

”Cute trick,” the broad one growled, muscling through the drag with brute stubbornness alone.

”It gets less cute,” Lily said, and pulled.

The hammer wrenched sideways out of his grip entirely, and Lily’s second strike caught him across the ribs hard enough to fold him around it, sending him stumbling back into a stand of black trees that immediately began reaching for him with root and branch alike.

He tore free with a curse, more shadow-wolves circling in on the sound of his struggle.

---

The forest did not care whose side anyone was on, and it proved that within the next minute.

A fresh pack of wolves broke from the tree line all at once, drawn by blood and noise and the general promise of five warm bodies fighting too hard to watch every flank.

The cloaked one, still furious about his fall, used the chaos exactly the way Almond had expected him to. A thin blade spun end over end out of the tree cover, aimed not at Almond’s front but at the gap in Lily’s guard his two allies’ attacks had briefly opened.

Almond saw it a half second before it would have landed.

He stepped into Lily’s blind side without breaking his own guard against the lean one’s next flurry, caught the spinning blade out of the air with two fingers, and sent it back the way it came with a flick of his wrist.

It buried itself in a tree an inch from the cloaked one’s ear.

”Poor aim,” Almond said. ”I read your intent before you finished the throw.”

The cloaked one’s face went pale, then furious, and he vanished back into the shadows between trunks rather than answer.

Lily didn’t thank him. She didn’t need to. She simply adjusted the angle of her next strike a fraction wider, covering the gap without either of them breaking stride, and the two of them settled into the same wordless rhythm that had carried them through a hundred worse fights than this one.

The lean one pressed again, sabers weaving a pattern meant to bait a counter and punish it, but Almond had spent a year learning what every made thing wanted at its core, and a saber wanted only one thing.

To cut cleanly, and never be read.

He read it anyway. The next exchange ended with one saber spinning from a numbed hand and the lean one backpedaling hard, blood welling from a shallow line across his forearm.

”You’re better than the notice boards said,” the lean one admitted, breathing hard.

”The notice boards don’t know us yet,” Lily said.

---

The broad one came back into it swinging wild, warhammer trailing splinters and shadow-wolf ichor both, more animal now than tactician, driven past patience by the humiliation of losing his weapon once already.

He swung for Almond’s head with everything he had left.

Almond didn’t dodge it. He read the swing’s whole arc, stepped inside the reach where the hammer’s weight worked against its owner instead of for him, and drove the flat of his blade into the exposed wrist above the grip.

Bone gave with a sound that silenced the clearing.

The broad one dropped to one knee, hammer falling useless from a hand that no longer answered him, and for the first time since the peak, real fear crossed his face.

Almond’s blade came to rest at his throat a moment later, close enough that the man could feel the edge without it breaking skin.

”This is where you decide,” Almond said, quiet and even. ”Not me.”

The broad one’s eyes flicked toward Lily, toward the shadow-wolves still circling the edges of the clearing, toward a death that had gone from theoretical to one clumsy heartbeat away.

”I withdraw,” he said, hoarse and fast. ”I withdraw! Get me out!”

Gold light took him before he finished the second sentence, the quest’s own mercy moving faster than any of them could, and the clearing had two rivals left in it instead of three.

---

The lean one and the cloaked one found each other in the chaos that followed, some silent understanding passing between them that two against two were better odds than one against two.

It didn’t matter. Almond and Lily had already stopped fighting them as separate problems.

The lean one came from the front, sabers flashing in a rapid cross-cut meant to force a retreat, while the cloaked one broke from cover behind them, three blades already spinning through the dark.

Lily caught the ambush first, whip snapping back and out in the same motion, silence swallowing all three throwing blades out of the air before they’d covered half the distance.

”Predictable,” she said.

Almond met the sabers head on, and this time he didn’t just read the blade. He read the forest around it, the shadow-wolves already circling close on the scent of fresh blood, the loose footing where roots had cracked the ground during the broad one’s earlier fall.

He gave ground on purpose, one step, then two, drawing the lean one’s flurry directly over the weakened earth.

The ground gave way exactly when he needed it to.

The lean one’s next lunge carried him stumbling forward onto broken footing, and three shadow-wolves that had been waiting for precisely this kind of opening surged in from the tree line, jaws already wide.

”Almond!” Lily called a warning that wasn’t really needed.

Almond was already moving, not to save the lean one, but to make sure the wolves reached him a half second before anyone else did.

The lean one twisted desperately away from the first snapping jaw, took a shallow gash along his ribs from the second, and understood with sudden, total clarity exactly how close permanent death had just come to collecting him for real.

”Withdraw,” he shouted, voice cracking. ”I withdraw, I withdraw, get them off me!”

The gold light took him a heartbeat before the third wolf’s jaws closed on empty air where he’d been standing, and the forest, briefly, held only three living things instead of five.

---

The cloaked one ran.

He didn’t try to fight what remained. He simply turned and bolted deeper into the darkness, throwing knives loosed blind behind him to buy distance, calculating even in retreat that outlasting the forest might still beat outfighting the two people currently walking through it like it owed them something.

Almond and Lily didn’t chase him directly. They didn’t need to.

They simply kept walking toward the shining peak in a straight, unhurried line, and let the forest do what the forest had been doing to everyone since the moment they’d landed.

They caught up to him twenty minutes later, cornered in a hollow between roots by four shadow-wolves he had clearly been fighting alone for longer than his knives could sustain, blood running from a dozen shallow cuts, breath ragged.

He saw them arrive over the wolves’ shoulders and understood, in that moment, exactly how this was going to end if he let it.

”Wait,” he said, already backing toward the one gap the wolves hadn’t closed. ”Wait, I’ll withdraw, just, give me a second, I’ll withdraw.”

Lily’s whip lashed out anyway, not at him, but at the wolf closest to his throat, silence swallowing its snarl mid-lunge and buying him the exact second he’d asked for.

He didn’t waste it.

”I withdraw,” he said, loud and final this time, and the gold light caught him just as the fourth wolf’s jaws finally closed on the space where he’d been standing a heartbeat before.

The forest went quiet around Almond and Lily, three rivals gone from it entirely, and only the two of them and the long walk toward a shining peak left standing in the dark.

---

They reached the second mountain as the false gold light of the beacon peak brightened into something closer to true dawn, and found the Rumble Coin waiting at its summit, small and bright and entirely undramatic for something that had cost three people their place in this event.

Almond picked it up, and read it the way he read everything, and found nothing hidden in it at all. Just a coin, simple and honest, exactly what it claimed to be.

”One down,” Lily said, looking back out over the dark forest they’d just crossed.

Neither of them smiled, not yet, not with the shape of the next ninety-nine still entirely unknown. But they stood together on that quiet, shining peak, alive and whole and one coin richer than they’d been an hour before.