The next day, Moon and the group of veterans with the Lieutenant were gathered outside the base gate. The early morning light was on the assembled group as they prepared for departure.
Moon was forced to ride one of the horses that belonged to a veteran since he didn’t have one himself. The animal was level eight, sturdy enough for travel but nothing impressive.
While Moon could have bought his own mount, it would have cost around sixty thousand dollars for a decent one. He didn’t bother, it was a waste of money since he planned to take one of the carriages toward a larger base soon anyway. Investing in a horse he’d use for maybe a few days made no practical sense.
So he just accepted the arrangent without complaint.
According to the Lieutenant and the other veterans, the journey to where the elk had last been spotted would take about a day’s worth of travel. They had a specific checkpoint roughly halfway through the journey where they’d stop to rest the horses and eat before continuing.
Moon didn’t have an issue with that. A day’s travel was nothing compared to the three months he’d spent in the frozen realm. And the ti would give him a chance to observe the veterans, understand their tactics, and get to know them so more.
With everything settled, the group departed.
The Lieutenant rode at the front, his posture relaxed but his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. The veterans spread out in a loose formation, maintaining enough distance to react to threats while staying close enough to support each other if needed.
Moon rode near the middle of the group, sharing a mount with Marcus, the veteran who’d tried to punch him the night before. The man hadn’t apologized, but his attitude had shifted from hostile to warily respectful after seeing Moon’s strength.
They traveled in relative silence for the first few hours, the only sounds the steady rhythm of hoofbeats and the occasional rustle of wind through the sanctuary’s strange vegetation.
Finally, one of the veterans broke the quiet.
"So, newcor," she called back to Moon. She was a woman in her early thirties with short-cropped hair and a bow strapped across her back. "What makes you think you can catch sothing we’ve been hunting for three weeks?"
The other veterans perked up, clearly interested in his answer.
Moon considered his response. "You’ve been hunting it the sa way each ti. Sa approach, sa tactics, sa routes. The elk has learned your patterns. It knows when you’re coming and how to avoid you."
"And you won’t make the sa mistake?" the woman asked, her tone skeptical.
"I don’t have patterns to learn yet, that’s the advantage of being new." Moon replied simply.
The Lieutenant glanced back over his shoulder, a slight smile on his face. He said nothing, but his expression suggested he approved of the answer.
They continued riding as the sun climbed higher in the sky, the landscape gradually shifting around them as they moved deeper into less-traveled territories.
"We are approaching The Great Cleave valley!" one of the veterans at the front called out, his voice carrying across the entire group.
Moon’s interest was piqued by the na. It sounded powerful, and significant.
He didn’t voice his curiosity just in case they were ant to keep their voices low. The last thing he wanted was to make a rookie mistake.
So he simply waited, observing as the veterans adjusted their formation slightly, their postures shifting to sothing more alert.
A few minutes after the warning, Moon’s eyes widened at the scene before him.
They had just left the dense tree line and entered a glade.
The lush, grassy adows under the canopy of deciduous trees weren’t what shocked him. It was the massive cleave that extended for what looked like several hundred ters, cutting through the landscape like a wound that had never healed.
Moon couldn’t help but take a deep breath, awe settling over him as he stared at the impossible geography.
The cleave wasn’t just large. It was devastatingly large.
A canyon carved into the earth with such force that it defied explanation. The edges were clean, almost unnaturally so, as if sothing had simply erased a section of the earth and left this void behind.
He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of being could create such devastation. In Moon’s mind, even a creature like the Winter Beast wouldn’t have a tenth of the strength needed to inflict such a massive injury on the land. Mind you, the Winter Beast could be considered an S-Rank entity in the First Sanctuary, one of the strongest beings existing in this realm.
If sothing this powerful had once walked here, what did that say about the sanctuary’s true nature?
Alyssa, the veteran who’d questioned him earlier, grinned at his reaction. "Freshat is indeed freshat, no matter how strong they are. This is why the valley is called the Great Cleave valley. Because of this massive cleave that separated the land into two pieces."
Moon nodded slowly, his eyes still tracing the length of the chasm. "Does anybody know who did it? What kind of creature or awakener had this much power?"
Alyssa scoffed, though her expression carried a hint of unease. "Who knows? This has existed since the first awakeners arrived here over two hundred years ago. Even they didn’t know what kind of ancient existence possessed such power, nor did they want to find out." She paused, her voice dropping slightly.
"But one thing is true. Every awakener who passes by this cleave thanks their lord that such a being no longer exists in the First Sanctuary. Otherwise..."
She didn’t finish the sentence, the answer was clear. If sothing capable of creating The Great Cleave still existed, no base would be safe. No awakener would stand a chance; the entire sanctuary would be a death trap rather than a place of dangers and opportunities.
Marcus, riding beside Moon, finally spoke up. "There are theories, of course. So think it was a Third Sanctuary awakener who sohow forced entry into the lower realm before the restrictions were fully established. Others believe it was a beast from the Third Sanctuary that wandered through before the dinsional barriers stabilised."
"And the truth?" Moon asked.
The Lieutenant’s voice carried back from the front. "The truth is that speculation is pointless. Whatever created The Great Cleave is long gone. Most of the theories are lies that were used to scam the awakeners of so golden coins. It’s a universally known law, no awakener or beast could ever enter a sanctuary below their rank. It’s an impossibility."
Then, the lieutenant gestured toward the far side of the cleave, where a series of rope bridges stretched across the chasm, connecting the two halves of the valley.
"We cross here, stay alert. The bridges are stable, but beasts sotis use them as ambush points."
The group began moving toward the crossing, but Moon’s eyes lingered on the cleave for a mont longer.
Two hundred years, no. In fact, it was much longer, yet the wound in the earth remained fresh, showing no signs of erosion or natural healing.
Whatever had done this wasn’t just powerful.
It was sothing else entirely.
Sothing that made even S-Rank beasts look insignificant by comparison.
Moon filed that information away and followed the group toward the bridges, his mind already turning back to the more imdiate concern of the elk hunt.
But the question remained, lurking in the back of his thoughts.
If beings that powerful once existed in the sanctuary, what guarantee was there that they were truly gone?
And what would happen if one ever returned?
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