THE AMBROSIUS CYCLE; SAGA Ⅰ
Amidst the harsh snow and rugged cliffs, a sole figure trudged slowly through the nigh inhabitable terrain. To the wandering eye, he'd appear to be nothing more than a mountaineer, tackling the mighty mountain for the thrill alone. However, to the man known as Arthur, the precarious climb was not an act he derived joy from.
The concept that one should cherish the journey more than the destination was something he fundamentally disagreed with. All roads were at their core, a means to the end. To claim the journey was more valuable then the goal was to spit on the end you strived towards, an action that invalidated the need for the journey to exist. No. If one could no properly enjoy the dream they had bled and struggled for, then it was merely a sign they failed to dream big enough.
Perhaps it was this line of thinking that brought him to Mount Kobushi, tracking down a group that by all measures had faded into obscure legends. There were few in the world who knew their name, and of them even less could confirm their existence. They called themselves the Kumo, and they were said to reside within the House of Spiders.
They had made a name for themselves as assassins and sellswords, however, this was not the reason Arther sought them out. While he would eventually need forces and an army, that came later. If he was to ask others to lay down their lives for him, he must at the very least be prepared to do the same. This was a philosophy he took quite seriously, for a king to lead other, it had to be from the front lines. As such, it was imperative he mastered the use of Drakengard. Quite the struck of luck then that the Kumo had begun accepting an influx of students in recent years. So while their methods might be distasteful, their skill was undeniable.
Arthur was no stranger to the cold, nor was he a novice when it came to scaling rough terrain. His time hunting Michê in the Himalayans with Vorpal had guaranteed he'd be comfortable with trips such as this. However, even still, he was finding the journey to be quite...testing. With no clear location, he was almost wandering the mountains aimlessly, hoping to stumble across something. This alone would have made things difficult, but to make matters worse, on his back was a massive black case. Even under normal circumstances, it was difficult to carry around, however, the climbing and snow only exasperated the problem. Despite all this, Arthur merely gritted his teeth, dug his heels in a bit deeper, and kept moving.
Then, after what felt an eternity, he spotted something as he reached the top of a ridge. A compound nestled deep within the mountain ranges, with architecture matching what he would have expected. A bonified monastery.
Huh.
Weary, yet willing to take the risk, Arthur approached the citadel before doing what all courteous visitors did upon arriving. He knocked.
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