Kelvin's finger traced over the jagged lines on the makeshift map, pausing at a rough spot where the charcoal markings darkened into a thick smudge.
"This is where we are," he said, tapping the location with his fingertip.
Hope and Walker leaned in slightly, both their expressions showing confusion. The map was barely legible—just uneven sketches of ruins, strange markings that seemed like warnings, and faded symbols that held no immediate meaning. But Kelvin spoke with certainty, as if the crude mess was as clear as a professionally drawn blueprint in his mind.
Slowly, his finger moved across the map, following a winding path of scratches that could barely be called a road. He stopped at a specific point, where the charcoal had been pressed harder into the paper, making the mark darker than the others.
"This… is where we fight."
Hope blinked, his mind stalling for a moment.
"What?"
Even Walker, who had been silently observing, lifted his gaze from the map to stare at Kelvin with a strange expression. He wasn't one to react much, but even he looked slightly thrown off.
Kelvin ignored their reactions and continued, his voice calm yet firm.
"The place where we fight is within the territory of a Sacred Beast."
The weight of his words hung in the air. Hope felt a prickle of unease creep up his spine. He had already learned that Sacred Beasts were on a level comparable to Ascended—powerful individuals who had survived the first trial and challenged the Veil for even greater strength. If what Kelvin was saying was true, then…
"My guess is that if we defeat this beast or monster," Kelvin continued, his tone steady, "we will pass our first trial."
Hope clenched his jaw.
The first trial…
A way out.
But the way out was blocked by something powerful enough to rival an Ascended? That wasn't just a trial—it was a death sentence.
Kelvin didn't seem to notice their doubt, or maybe he did and simply didn't care. He continued explaining, his tone unwavering.
"The Sacred Beast isn't alone. It controls a horde of Corrupted Fiends."
That got Walker's attention. His fingers twitched around the handle of his rusted dagger.
"A horde?" Walker repeated, his voice flat but carrying an underlying sharpness.
Kelvin nodded.
"I've been in this place for a week now," he said, leaning back slightly. "I've explored different ruins, watched how the creatures move, how they behave. I've seen their patterns, their territory markings, and I've observed enough to know that what I'm saying is true."
Hope studied Kelvin carefully. His tone wasn't arrogant or reckless. It was calculated, like someone who had already thought through every possibility.
But that didn't make what he was saying any easier to accept.
A Sacred Beast and its horde of Corrupted Fiends?