CHAPTER 50: ONE MOUNTAIN

When Luke uttered these words, he turned his back without even listening to the rest of what was said and continued on his journey towards the Tholien Mountains.

It was cold, very cold, and Luke could feel it, but the cold had no effect on him. It was as if the cold knew who he was, as if it was protecting him. He was wearing far fewer clothes than he had before entering the forest, but now, even though he was only wearing two layers, the cold felt warm to him.

His steps were heavy, there was so much snow, but... strangely, this heaviness did not tire him.

It had only taken seven days. After Luke emerged from the forested area, it took exactly seven days to reach the end of the Tholien Mountains, that vast range of hundreds of mountains, the mountain range.

When Luke looked up at the massive mountain ahead of him, or rather, from where he wanted to climb the mountain, he could see the area up to the clouds, but nothing else.

The snow had started falling, and Luke was a bit unlucky, but he thought there might be a path up there because, according to history books, the Tholien Mountains, these massive mountain ranges, were somehow connected to each other.

However, the last person to enter here and record anything had done so hundreds of thousands of years ago. Heavy snowfall and possible natural disasters could have affected the mountains. Luke wanted to try his luck and climb.

He didn’t even know how happy he would be for doing so.

He took off his fedora and threw it into his inventory, then began climbing the mountain without a moment’s hesitation.

His body was strong, and his magic made him even stronger. He could even use white fire to create places where he could hold himself steady and rest.

Still, it was his first time climbing a mountain, and there was no need to mention how difficult it was.

Within just half an hour, he had already faced the danger of falling seven times while climbing an area of four hundred metres.

If he hadn’t had the white fire, or by the other name, ice fire, he would have likely fallen hundreds of metres and died.

Still, he managed to climb a thousand six hundred metres in three hours, first four hundred metres, then another four hundred, then another four hundred.

He was incredibly tired, truly exhausted. His muscles ached and kept swelling. His arms and legs were trembling.

Luke had found a cave, a cave filled with light.

After starting to walk in the cave, he had to walk for perhaps twenty minutes before finally reaching the other side of the cave.

At the same time, he saw the bridge above the clouds. It was a bridge filled with ruins, with no trace of its former glory, but still standing for the person that shall arrive one day, and that person was there, at its start.

A bridge connecting two mountains, perhaps one or two kilometres long.

It was beautiful. It was truly a beautiful sight.

Without hesitation, Luke began walking across the bridge, and when he reached the middle, the cold air hit him, and he could see down through the clouds below, a thousand six hundred metres below.

It was as if an image of pure white snow stretching into infinity, reflecting the light of the sky onto the earth, had begun to reflect in his eyes.

Oh, what a beautiful sight it was.

He couldn’t even find the words to describe it.

He stared at the sight for five minutes, breathing in and out, steam coming out of his mouth.

"This... is art," Luke said. It was a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life.

When he came to his senses, he began to walk with steady steps and crossed the bridge in a short time. He then came across another cave and reached another bridge at the end of it.

Then another one.

Another one.

Again and again.

Tens of those caves had turned into hundreds in a short time.

And in just four days, Luke had crossed hundreds of mountains and managed to see the stairs leading down the mountain. The stairs, which framed the mountain in a spiral shape, were broken and damaged.

Luke continued to move forward slowly, step by step, descending the staircase.

It took him two hours to descend thousands of steps, and his legs were beginning to give out again, but it was worth it—because of what he saw in the distance.

Kilometres away, towering above the clouds, unlike the other mountains, it was a pure white sight. A mountain, pure white, unlike the other mountains, which seemed to have turned white because of the snow, and a mountain that could be seen even though it was kilometres away.

[The One Mountain].

One of the mountains is believed to be home to the Ancient Dragons and Ancient Phoenixes.

When Luke created a house to rest in, he slept for fifteen hours straight, without waking up even once.

Contrary to what Elsa had said, he had not encountered a Phoenix in the Tholien Mountains; perhaps this Phoenix had returned to One Mountain.

Perhaps it had been sent there... Anything was possible.

When Luke set off again, he knew he wouldn’t stop. He was aware that there were nearly forty kilometres to go to reach the mountain. The snow wasn’t very deep; Luke’s foot sank about five centimetres into the ground, and he could walk on the earth beneath.

This meant he could cover the distance in a maximum of two hours, even if he walked slowly.

That was indeed the case, and within an hour and forty minutes, Luke had managed to reach the foot of the mountain.

Just like at Tholien Mountain, there were spiral staircases here as well. The steps were broken and crumbling.

As Luke began to climb the steps slowly, he noticed that the habitat around him began to change after a short while.

The mountain was hot, really hot.

After only a thousand or two thousand steps, Luke began to sweat. When he chose to rest for a moment because of the sweat dripping into his eyes, he began to hear a few sounds.

Heavy sounds...

"FWOOOOSH!!"

"WHOOOMPH!!!!"

"THWUMP!!!"

They were very close... They were really there.