THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Chapter 269 THE CAVE OF FORGOTTEN MYTHS

The days blurred into a grueling test of endurance as five long ones passed. Ced and David pressed on, braving the unforgiving elements as they followed the carrier bird's elusive flight path. The towering silhouette of the mountain grew larger with each passing day, its snowy peaks piercing the heavens like ancient, silent sentinels. The wind howled endlessly, biting at their exposed skin and carrying with it the whispers of the wild.

Ced had brought along a collection of old climbing tools, worn but functional. Rusted carabiners and frayed ropes seemed to defy the odds as they aided the two men in scaling the icy cliffs at the mountain's base. Their breath crystallized in the air as David dug his gloved hands into the frozen surface, his muscles straining as he climbed.

"Don't stop now, old man!" David shouted down, his voice carried off by the wind as he reached a precarious ledge. He leaned over, gripping Ced's outstretched hand and pulling him up with a grunt.

Ced stumbled onto the ledge, brushing off snow from his coat and catching his breath. David, already looking up the next stretch, began to prepare for the next climb, but Ced's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait," Ced said, his voice low and steady.

David turned, confused, and watched as the bird they had been following descended slowly, its dark feathers gleaming against the gray sky. It circled Ced with a peculiar grace before landing lightly on his outstretched finger.

Ced smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Good lad," he murmured to the bird. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the air. "Go on. Home."

The bird soared upward, vanishing into the swirling winds. Ced stood motionless for a moment, his gloved hand gripping the hilt of his rusty sword.

David's senses sharpened, his body instinctively tensing. "Ced?" he asked cautiously. Stay connected via My Virtual Library Empire

Ced turned, his weathered face lined with an emotion David couldn't quite place. "We're here," Ced said quietly, pointing behind him.

David followed the direction of Ced's trembling finger, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the dark maw of a cave etched into the side of the mountain. Its jagged opening seemed to yawn like a beast, a foreboding invitation into the unknown.

"Ced," David began, noticing the way the old man's hands trembled as he exhaled, his breath visible in the freezing air. "You don't have to do this."

Ced shot him a sharp, almost insulted glare. "Don't you patronize me, Winter," he spat, his voice tinged with both anger and resolve. "This is my battle. You wouldn't understand."

David opened his mouth to argue, but Ced didn't wait. Without another word, he stepped into the cave, the darkness swallowing him whole.

David stood there for a moment, staring after Ced as the wind whipped around him. He looked over his shoulder at the sprawling expanse of white behind him, the memory of what he had left behind flickering briefly in his mind.

"I do understand," he muttered to himself, his voice almost lost in the wind.

Squaring his shoulders, David followed Ced into the cave, the encroaching darkness wrapping around him like a shroud. Each step echoed faintly against the stone walls, a harbinger of the danger that lay ahead. The air grew colder, and David's resolve hardened with every step deeper into the mountain.

The oppressive darkness of the cave seemed to press against them, but Ced remained steadfast, his hand outstretched toward David. "Hand me the torch," he ordered, his voice a low growl.

David quickly rummaged through the bags he carried, pulling out the makeshift torch they had prepared earlier. Ced snatched it, sparks flying as he struck flint against the wall, the small bursts of light finally igniting the torch. The cave walls were bathed in flickering orange light, revealing jagged edges and the faint glimmer of frost.

As Ced stepped back, the light caught something etched into the walls—ancient drawings worn with time yet still decipherable. His eyes narrowed, and he motioned for David to look.

"What are these?" David asked, tracing the faded figures with his eyes.

Ced's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the images. "Stories, perhaps... Legends."

The drawings depicted towering figures, their forms exaggerated to resemble gods. Above them, a radiant figure descended from the heavens, embracing a crowned woman, her face obscured by damage to the wall. The next scene showed devastation—a fire consuming a lone figure, burned at the stake. Above the burning form, the god-like figure loomed, its presence worshipped by a crowd bowing beneath it.

Ced's face darkened as he muttered, "This... doesn't align with the myths."

David frowned. "You mean about the Snow Devil?"

Ced shook his head, stepping away. "It's not clear. Could mean anything." His tone was gruff, dismissive, though his eyes lingered on the burning figure for a moment longer. Then, from deeper within the cave, a low growl rumbled, reverberating through the stone walls like a warning.

David's hand instinctively went to his dagger, the blade sliding free as the sound settled in the air. "We need to move," Ced said, his voice taut.

The men pressed forward, the flickering torchlight revealing more of the cave's eerie details. The narrow passage suddenly opened into a vast chamber, supported by towering stone pillars that seemed to bear the weight of the mountain itself. The air here was frigid, colder than outside, and their breath fogged before them.

In the center of the chamber lay a massive white bear, its fur blending seamlessly with the snow-covered ground. Its immense body rose and fell with deep, rhythmic breaths.

But it wasn't the bear that made them freeze—it was the shadowy figure beside it. The figure's dark form seemed to ripple, its hand brushing over the bear's fur in an almost affectionate gesture.

David's blood ran cold as the shadow turned toward them, its featureless face seeming to grin, though no mouth was visible.

Ced's body trembled—not with fear, but with fury. His grip tightened on his sword as he bellowed, "I've come to take your head Devil!"

"No!" David shouted, reaching for him, but it was too late.

Ced lunged at the shadow, sword raised, his war cry echoing through the chamber as the sleeping bear began to stir.