The Last Bargain

Chapter VIII: The Battle In The Mountains

The night was still young, but the mist was thickening around Zento and Shin as they made their way toward the mountain path. The cold air bit at their faces, and the distant sound of a river rushing over rocks filled the silence between them. Zento held the scroll tightly, its coarse parchment creaking in his grip. The map that Raito had given them showed a series of narrow trails that wound up into the mountains, twisting and turning like a snake through the jagged peaks.

"Do you think we can trust him?" Shin asked, breaking the silence.

Zento glanced sideways at his companion, weighing his answer. "Raito's ability makes him see the truth in people, but it doesn't mean he isn't hiding his own intentions," he replied. "But right now, we don't have a choice. He's our only lead."

Shin nodded, his face serious. "Still... a shrine where people commune with gods sounds like a place we should approach cautiously. Especially if others have disappeared trying to find it."

Zento agreed, and they continued their ascent, each step heavier than the last. The path was steep and narrow, barely wide enough for them to walk side by side. The trees grew thicker, their branches intertwined overhead, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in the flickering light of their torches.

As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, and the fog began to cling to their clothes like a damp shroud. Zento's breath came in short, visible puffs, and he could feel his muscles beginning to ache. But he pressed on, driven by a determination that burned hotter than the chill in his bones.

Hours passed, and the forest began to thin, replaced by rocky terrain. The trail grew narrower, more treacherous, with loose stones sliding under their feet. Zento moved carefully, his eyes scanning the path ahead for any signs of danger. Shin followed closely, his face set with concentration.

At last, they reached a small plateau, a flat space carved out of the mountainside. Zento stopped, catching his breath, and looked around. The plateau was surrounded by towering cliffs, their jagged edges cutting into the sky. In the center of the plateau stood a large stone marker, weathered and cracked, with ancient characters carved into its surface.

"What does it say?" Shin asked, stepping closer to examine the stone.

Zento squinted, trying to decipher the old script. "It's a warning," he said slowly. "It says, 'Beyond this point lies the domain of the gods. Turn back, mortals, lest you incur their wrath.'"

Shin chuckled softly. "Not exactly welcoming, is it?"

Zento shook his head, his expression grim. "No. But we have to keep going."

They moved past the marker, the path growing even narrower and more precarious. The wind picked up, howling through the cliffs like a distant wail, and the fog grew thicker still, obscuring the path ahead. Zento's heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to stay focused. There was no room for fear, not now.

After another hour of careful climbing, they reached a narrow pass between two towering cliffs. Zento stopped, holding up his hand for Shin to halt. "Wait," he whispered, his eyes narrowing.

"What is it?" Shin asked, looking around.

Zento didn't answer immediately. He felt something—a strange, tingling sensation at the back of his neck, like the feeling of being watched. He scanned the shadows, searching for any movement, but saw nothing. Yet, the feeling didn't go away. It was as if the very air around them had grown heavier, charged with an unseen energy.

"We're not alone," Zento murmured.

Shin's eyes darted around, his hand instinctively reaching for the small knife he carried at his side. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice echoing off the rocks.