UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 132: Paths

The room was dim, lit only by the soft orange glow from the lamp on the desk. Dune sat on the edge of the bed, his body sore under the tight bandages, though he tried not to show it.

Across from him, Atlas stood with his arms crossed, his expression colder than usual.

"Let me see it," Atlas said, voice sharp.

Dune didn't move. "It's nothing. I'm fine., my wounds are almost healed."

Atlas's eyes narrowed.

"I saw what happened at the ceremony." He stepped closer, his tone heavy. "You cut off Raves's hand. Then got beaten half to death right after. You can't keep doing this, Dune. If you're not going to pick a family, then stop getting involved in their mess."

Dune's jaw tensed. He didn't answer right away. "...You like her Atlas, don't you? You like Hazel and you still didn't intervene."

Atlas looked away. "It's not an easy decision to make."

"You think i don't know? But still—"

"Who was it?" Atlas interrupted. "Rodeny sent someone, didn't they? Who did this to you?"

Dune let out a slow breath, eyes dropping to the floor. For a second, it looked like he wouldn't say anything, but then he muttered.

"Azrael. He caught me outside...damn it... i couldn't even fight back."

Atlas's mouth set into a hard line.

"Azrael Rodeny..." he repeated, voice dark.

"And you call this nothing?"

Dune shook his head and forced himself to stand, even though his body screamed in protest.

"It doesn't matter. I'll be healed soon. And something minor like this... it doesn't change anything. I'll be taking the trial soon, that's what matters now."

Atlas stared at him, exasperated. "You call getting nearly killed minor? Dune—"

"Drop it." Dune's voice was quieter, but final.

"I saw your face, you wanted to intervene too didn't you? But you couldn't."

The silence stretched between them for a moment before Dune broke it, changing the subject.

"Why did you tell Silvie to talk to me? Don't try to hide it, i already know."

Atlas's gaze shifted, but his expression didn't soften. "How did it go?"

Dune let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"What do you think? Obviously, I refused."

Atlas sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You should've accepted."

Dune turned toward him, confused. "What?" His brow furrowed. "I never wanted to be part of any of this. Why the hell would I—"

"Because alone, you won't last here, Dune. Not against them. You need allies. You need power that doesn't just come from your Neba. If you don't tie yourself to someone, they'll crush you."

Dune's fists clenched at his sides as he looked away, jaw tight. He knew Atlas wasn't wrong... but hearing it out loud made something heavy settle in his chest.

"I'm not marrying Silvie," Dune muttered.

Atlas chuckled, a dry sound. "Why not? She's rich and hot."

Dune stiffened. "Yeah... I saw it."

Atlas raised a brow, clearly amused now. "What exactly did you see?"

Dune shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at his friend. "Nothing much. She just... jumped on me. I didn't expect it."

Atlas smirked, pushing his hair back with one hand. "You were almost there and you just turned away?"

Dune shot him a glare and reached out, giving Atlas a shove on the shoulder, not hard, but enough to make his point.

"Maybe next time talk to me first before you send some crazy woman to seduce me into marriage."

Atlas groaned and covered his face with his hand, shaking his head.

"Why are you so stubborn?" His voice was muffled but exasperated. "Just go talk to Neville. Make some kind of alliance. I'm just trying to protect you, Dune."

Dune looked at him again, calmer now but no less firm. "I don't want to be dependent on anyone. I want to do what I want to do, by myself."

Atlas sighed heavily and let his hand drop from his face, his eyes meeting Dune's with something like frustration... but also understanding.

The sun was high, casting long shadows over the sand as Dune ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the wooden sword that swung past his face.

"You're gonna get married?!" Mindya shouted, charging at him like a whirlwind.

"Of course not," Dune said, sidestepping with calm precision.

She leapt forward again. "You won't leave me, right? Atlas and Ned left, but you gotta stay with me!"

Dune shook his head, still dodging with ease. "I hate these families as much as you do."

Mindya's grin split her face wide. "Yessir!"

Then suddenly, with a spark in her eye, she shouted, "Marry me instead, Dune!"

He faltered, brows furrowing at the randomness of it, then let out a low chuckle.

"No thanks."

"What?! Am I not pretty enough?!" she shouted, swinging harder.

Dune laughed, stepping back. "Yeah, you're not pretty. Also a bit stupid. A pain. And—"

Before he could finish, she screamed and charged with all her strength, bringing the wooden blade down fast. Dune barely managed to dodge, sliding across the sand.

"Calm down, I was joking!" he called out.

But she didn't stop.

Seeing her swing with wild force, Dune finally activated Nebastep, letting a controlled pulse of Neba blast out and knock her back. She hit the sand with a cough, tumbling.

Dune's smirk vanished instantly. "Ah—dammit, I'm sorry," he said, rushing over, afraid he overdid it.

He knelt, placing a hand gently on her back.

And then—

WHACK!

The wooden sword cracked across his face.

He fell flat on the sand with a groan.

Mindya sprang up, triumphant, knee on his chest as she held him down, grinning like a devil. "I win!"

Dune stared up at her, expression deadpan.

"You always cheat."

"Cheating is winning when you're me."

With a grunt, he shoved her off and stood up, brushing sand from his clothes.

"Let's go. Class is about to start."

She hopped up beside him, smug as ever.

"Alright, loser!"

The classroom quieted as the doors opened. Dune raised his head as a tall man with a long white cloak stepped in. His presence alone silenced even the cockiest students.

His sharp, weathered face, piercing gray eyes, and the long beard trailing down to his neck marked him unmistakably, Ramires, the director of Bloodrose Academy himself.

Dune narrowed his eyes. Why is the head himself teaching us today?

Ramires walked calmly to the front and turned with a controlled motion, folding his hands behind his back.

"Today," he began, his voice steady but full of weight, "I will explain what you were never taught, what most of you will never master."

He turned to face them all fully.

"There are hundreds of paths of Neba, but for now im only gonna tell you about the ten most important ones."

"Ten Oaths one can walk, each born from different ideals, instincts, and truths. These paths are not techniques, they are foundations of power. And once you take one, you cannot stray without consequence."

Ramires let his words settle before continuing.

"Each time you absorb an animal core, its essence joins with your own. But if you pull in conflicting natures... your Neba will fracture. Wild, unstable, weak. But if you follow one Path, your powers will resonate, merge and evolve."

He began listing them, his voice slow and clear:

"The Path of Death" — For those who understand that all things end. Its users channel decay, fear, and silence.

"The Path of Rebirth" — For those who accept change, pain, and survival through transformation. These are healers and evolving warriors.

"The Path of Dominion" — For rulers, tyrants, and tacticians. Masters of control, of people, elements, and battlefield.

"The Path of Chaos" — For the reckless. The broken. Their power is unpredictable, unstable, but monstrous when mastered.

"The Path of Harmony" — For those who seek balance. Their Neba flows like breath, calm, fluid, and unshakable.

"The Path of the Beast" — For those who follow instinct over reason. Wild fighters who merge with animalistic power.

"The Path of the Void" — For those who understand nothingness. They erase presence, power, and sometimes... even memory.

"The Path of the Elements" — Fire, Ice, Thunder, Stone. Deep mastery over one element becomes your soul.

"The Path of the Mirror" — For the clever. They twist what others give them, reflecting pain, copying power, breaking rhythm.

"The Path of the Titan" — For the unmovable. Warriors of raw force and endurance who let nothing pass.

"Understand this," Ramires said firmly, "your Neba core must not be a cluttered pile of beasts."

"Choosing your Path is not just tradition it's survival. You absorb off-path cores, and your essence will tear itself apart. You stay loyal to your Path... and it will make you more powerful than any mere ability."

He turned and began writing the ten Paths on the board behind him with quick strokes of Neba-charged chalk. The names glowed faintly as he carved them into the surface.

"Each of you will eventually walk one of these Paths, whether by choice or accident. Better to choose now, and evolve with purpose, than to regret it when it's too late."

Dune leaned back in his seat slightly. His thoughts drifted. So that's how it works...

His eyes narrowed.

So what Path am I walking...?