Still, the laughter kept her moving. Her steps grew firr, her balance more stable. She could feel sothing flowing through her veins—energy, maybe? Or adrenaline. Either way, it carried her forward.
By eight thousand, she was drenched in sweat, but there was a rhythm to the pain now. Her heart pumped steadily, her breaths ca asured. It hurt, yes—but not like before. It was bearable. Her body was learning.
She whispered between breaths, "If I survive this, I swear I’ll never complain again."
"Record of previous similar statents: twelve," Bubu said.
"Stop exposing ," she gasped.
Glimora chirped, clearly enjoying her suffering far too much.
At nine thousand, Isabella realized sothing incredible—the mountain didn’t feel as heavy anymore. The wind around her wasn’t biting; it felt alive, brushing her skin like a soft current. The sound of her footsteps echoed differently, deeper, as if the ground itself acknowledged her.
Her body scread for rest, but her blood humd with sothing else. Her skin tingled faintly, glowing under the soft mist. Inside her chest, a pulse of warmth spread outward, steady and slow.
"Bubu..." she breathed. "Sothing’s happening."
"Yes," the system replied softly. "That’s your body opening its first ridian."
"Feels like being roasted alive."
"That’s normal."
"It’s not normal, Bubu!"
"Adaptation rarely feels kind."
She grit her teeth, pushing onward, step by step. The mountain wind howled through the cliffs, tugging at her damp hair, yet she didn’t stop.
At nine thousand two hundred, her muscles stopped shaking. Her stride evened out, her steps lighter.
At nine thousand five hundred, the pain dulled into a deep, heavy ache—but one she could carry.
"Hey," she panted, a faint smile tugging at her lips, "it’s working."
"I told you," Bubu said. "The human body learns faster than it believes."
"You an faster than you believe," she shot back.
"Incorrect. I always believed. You simply argued longer than expected."
Her laugh echoed against the cliffs, broken and breathless.
Nine thousand eight hundred.
A wave of fatigue hit her again, sudden and brutal. Her knees hit the stone, palms scraping against the rough surface. Glimora squeaked in alarm, rushing to her side. Isabella’s entire body shook, lungs clawing for air.
"I can’t," she whispered.
"You can."
"I can’t."
"You are," Bubu replied, softer this ti.
Her vision blurred again. Every nerve scread, yet beneath the agony, a strange calm blood. Her heart slowed. Her breath steadied. She pushed herself up, trembling but unbroken.
One step. Then another.
The wind swirled around her, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers from so distant ridge. The mountain humd beneath her boots—alive, ancient, approving.
Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine.
And then—
The final step.
The world went silent. Then a faint ding echoed from Bubu’s screen, followed by a soft chi that rippled through the air like bells underwater.
"Task completed," Bubu announced.
A soft golden shimr spread across the floating screen, followed by a cheerful ding!
Reward Received:
15 Strength
25 Stamina
Passive Skill Unlocked: Endurance Training — stamina recovers 15% faster during travel or battle.
A gentle warmth rolled through Isabella’s limbs, like molten sunlight seeping into her veins. The ache in her muscles eased just enough for her to stand straighter, her breath deepening.
Isabella swayed on her feet, laughing weakly. "Oh my god, I did it... I actually did it..."
"You did," Bubu said simply. "Congratulations, Host."
Her chest rose and fell, each breath slow and shaky. Her arms hung limp at her sides, Glimora curling up near her foot like a proud little guardian. The mist around them glowed faintly, casting silvery reflections over her damp skin.
Her whole body pulsed with warmth. The exhaustion was still there, yes—but so was strength. She could feel it. Like her blood had turned to fire and her bones had rembered how to hold it.
"I hate you," she murmured, half-smiling, half-crying.
"I know," Bubu said.
She dropped to her knees, letting out a long, trembling laugh. "I’m never walking again."
"You will."
"Shut up, Bubu."
"Noted."
The system’s screen flickered gently, light dimming like a heartbeat.
And for the first ti, both of them went quiet—not the cold, silent treatnt from before, but sothing gentler. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the sll of rain and distant thunder. Glimora purred softly beside her.
The mountain exhaled.
And sowhere deep inside Isabella’s chest, the ache of exhaustion gave way to a steady, quiet strength.
Isabella lay flat on her back, staring at the sky. Every muscle in her body ached like soone had replaced her bones with molten rock. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. Even blinking hurt.
The mist above her looked soft now, like cotton floating lazily through the blue air. The mountain had gone strangely quiet—no birds, no wind, just her own panting and Glimora’s tiny squeaks.
She reached into her space with trembling fingers and pulled out her waterskin. The leather flask glistened faintly, the enchantnt inside humming as it refilled itself. "Thank God you don’t run out," she mumbled, uncorking it and drinking greedily. Cool water slid down her throat like a blessing from heaven.
Her lips parted for a long sigh. "Ahh... finally sothing that doesn’t try to kill ."
Bubu’s light flickered into view beside her, faintly amused. "You just walked ten thousand mountain steps. Stop acting like you fought a dragon."
Isabella rolled her eyes so hard she almost sprained sothing.
"Bubu, I swear, one day your mouth will put you in trouble."
"My mouth?"
"Yes! Whoever programd that smart-ass personality of yours needs to be sued," she snapped, pointing dramatically at the floating screen.
"I am performing at 99.8% efficiency," Bubu replied smoothly.
"Yeah, 99.8% annoying," Isabella shot back.
"Then I pity the other 0.2%. That must be your empathy setting."
Bubu pulsed faintly, like a sigh. "Host, you dramatize everything."
"Of course I dramatize everything! I nearly died of dehydration!"
"You were fine."
"Fine? I could literally feel my soul walking ahead of , telling to hurry up!"
While Isabella ranted, Glimora stretched beside her and let out a soft chirp. Then, with the casual mischief of a toddler, she darted off into the tall grass.
"Hey! Glimora! Don’t you dare—!" Isabella froze mid-sentence as her little companion disappeared behind a patch of glowing ferns. "You little—" she cut herself off before finishing the word, pressing a hand to her mouth. "No, no, I’m a mother now. I can’t curse. I am calm. I am graceful."
She imdiately scrambled to her feet, brushing dirt off her legs and muttering, "I swear, if sothing eats you, I’m haunting you myself."
Bubu’s voice floated lazily after her. "Wow. Host still lacks survival instinct."
"I heard that!" she yelled back, stomping through the grass.
Her boots crunched softly as she pushed through the greenery. The air grew heavier here—dense and sweet, tinged with the faint sll of smoke and tal. The grass shimred faintly, touched by gold.
"Glimora?" she called, peering through the mist. "Where are you, baby?"
There was no answer. Only the rustle of wings—soft, almost musical.
Then her eyes caught sothing strange.
Feathers.
Dozens of them.
Golden, radiant feathers littered the ground like fallen sunlight. They shimred faintly with a pearly sheen, glinting under the mountain’s dim glow. Isabella’s breath hitched. "Oh my god... feathers... lots of golden feathers..."
She crouched down slowly, fingertips brushing one. It was warm to the touch, softer than silk, pulsing faintly as if still alive.
"Bubu," she whispered. "I think I found sothing rare."
The system didn’t answer imdiately. Its light blinked once—cautious. "Host, step back slowly."
"Why?" Isabella asked, straightening up. "It’s just—"
She didn’t finish.
Because her gaze finally lifted beyond the feathers.
And that’s when she scread.
Bodies.
They weren’t just feathers scattered across the clearing—they were remains. Phoenixes, dozens of them, lay strewn across the grass. Their once-glorious wings were charred and bloodied, their golden plumage stained black with ash. A few still flickered faintly, dying embers trapped beneath broken feathers.
But those weren’t the only shapes there.
There were people.
n and won, with faint fire marks etched into their skin—half human, half bird. Their faces were frozen mid-terror, eyes wide, throats burned raw. Blood streaked the golden grass, glinting under the dim light like rubies scattered among coins.
The air reeked of smoke, iron, and sothing heartbreakingly sweet—burnt feathers.
Isabella’s breath hitched in her throat. Her stomach twisted violently. The water she’d just drunk felt like it wanted to crawl back up.
"Bubu..." she whispered, voice trembling. "What... what is this?"
No answer.
Her hand went to her fan instinctively.
The silence pressed against her ears, heavy and alive.
And then—
Sothing moved among the corpses.
She froze, heart hamring so loudly she thought the whole mountain would hear it.
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