Chapter 31 – Daren
They walked until the smoke of the ruined village faded behind the hills. The path led them to a quiet clearing by a stream. Daren stopped there, kneeling to wash the soot from his hands.
Aric sat across from him, restless. His father's calmness always frustrated him in moments like this. Finally, he blurted, "Why didn't we help them? We could've done something. I could've done something."
Daren's gaze flicked to him, sharp as steel. "Could you have defeated a dozen men trained in killing? Could you have saved every villager while keeping yourself alive?"
Aric bit his lip, unable to answer.
"You feel guilty," Daren continued, "but guilt without clarity is just another chain. You must learn why mortals fall. And you must learn why even gods fear the system."
Aric frowned. "The system… you always say it limits us. But no one else questions it. Everyone just accepts the levels, the ranks, the power ceilings."
"That," Daren said, pointing a wet hand toward him, "is the trap. The system does not merely measure strength—it dictates it. It bleeds every mortal who rises too far, keeping them below the threshold. That's why there are no mortal kings who surpass gods, no heroes who remain unbroken. Even the most gifted are cut down or drained when they near divinity."
Aric leaned forward. "But… if it limits mortals, then how do gods exist above it?"
Daren's voice lowered, almost a growl. "Because they made it. Or, at least, they enforce it. The Entity, Aion, bound the world in chains of order. The gods feed from that order. The system ensures their supremacy."
Aric's eyes widened. "Then mortals can never surpass them?"
"Not as they are now." Daren sat back, drying his hands on the grass. His eyes looked distant, like he was staring through time. "But every chain has a weakness. Every system has a flaw. Mortals who learn to resist the siphon—the Taboo—can carve paths the gods fear."
Aric remembered the battle in the village. How strategy had mattered more than raw strength. "Then… knowledge is as important as power."
"More important." Daren's voice hardened. "You can gain strength, but if you do not know how to keep it, the system will strip you bare. Worse, the gods will notice you and destroy you before you ever reach your peak."
Silence fell between them, broken only by the bubbling of the stream.
Aric asked quietly, "Have you… ever felt it? The system draining you?"
Daren's jaw clenched. For the first time, Aric saw something like weariness in his father's eyes. "Every day. I've touched powers mortals were not meant to grasp. Each time I rose higher, the system cut into me—stole the essence I earned. It is like bleeding into an endless well. That is why we cannot waste strength. That is why you must learn patience."
The words chilled Aric. To think even his father—strong, unshakable, brilliant—was being bled dry by an invisible cage.
Daren reached into his satchel and pulled out a small crystal shard, faintly glowing. He held it out for Aric to see. "This is siphoned mana, stolen from the system itself. Dangerous to use, but proof it bleeds what it takes from us. One day, you'll learn to cut deeper—to reclaim more than it steals."
Aric's hands itched to hold it, but Daren closed his fist. "Not yet. You are not ready. But remember this: every god, every dragon, every so-called eternal being is bound to this world's laws. They bleed too. Only the Entity stands apart."
Aric looked up sharply. "Then the Entity can't be defeated?"
Daren's expression hardened. "Not by mortals as they are. But by mortals who refuse the system…" His gaze locked onto Aric's, intense and unwavering. "Maybe."
The words sank into Aric's bones like fire. For the first time, he understood why his father's teachings were so harsh, why he forced him to watch suffering instead of rushing to aid. This was more than strength. It was survival against a god-shaped cage.
Daren rose and shouldered his pack. "Come. Tonight, I'll show you the first method of resistance. But be warned—it is pain unlike anything you've known."
Aric stood, determination burning in his chest. He was ready.