Chapter 10
2822words
He yelled so loudly that the birds sitting on the nearby trees flew away in fear.
The owner of this booming voice was named Gama. A former member of the previous Wanderers' elites, he was currently "not doing anything" – a euphemism for being incredibly bored and restless.
"Please don't shout in my ears! And stay 10 miles away from me!"
The speaker, whose patience was clearly wearing thin, rubbed his temple like he had the world’s worst headache. He’d already complained almost ten times about having to do "all this."
"If I stay 10 miles away, don’t you think this will become a solo mission, not a team mission?"
Gama smirked, passing a playful sideways glance to Viti.
This was Viti — also a former member of the elite unit, now working as a Discovery Officer on the South Coast. His long pink hair, tied up in a neat bun, swayed slightly as he turned his head with narrowed eyes.
"I don't understand why Rikiya sent you with me," he muttered, a visible crease forming between his brows. "It would've been better if I was alone instead of |-|ill."
He paused. His gaze dropped for a second. Then with a half-sigh, half-muttered groan, he added, "That's where I should've been."
"Hey, I also don’t want to come with you," Gama crossed his arms and turned his face away dramatically. "But I have no choice."
There was a pout in his voice, like a child denied candy.
Then, cutting through his own theatrics, he asked:
"By the way... where exactly are we going?"
Viti stopped.
Like completely froze.
His eyes closed for a second, and when he opened them again, his expression was a mix of disbelief and sheer exhaustion.
He turned slowly.
"I am going to inspect across the river," he said tightly. "Don’t interfere in my work. You go and investigate in the village."
His voice grew quieter, sharper.
"...I think there’s something wrong with this river."
“Something wrong, meaning?” Gama tilted his head.
Viti didn’t answer. He simply glanced at him, gave a curt nod, then gestured with his chin for Gama to follow.
“Hey… what do you mean? Hey, hey, hey—”
“How many more times will you ask?” Viti snapped, throwing his hands up. “Can’t you wait two minutes? I swear…”
“Hey, I just wanted to lift the mood! Everything feels too serious,” Gama said sheepishly, rubbing his head.
“Don’t do anything,” Viti sighed again. A pause followed.
Then, quietly:
“Did you smell something…?”
“Huh?” Gama blinked, his playful air slipping just a little. “Smell? What kind of smell? I didn’t smell anything besides… wait—yes, you’re right. The river… it smells rotten.”
“Thank God you’re not that dense,” Viti muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“So… what does it mean?” Gama asked, now more serious.
“It means,” Viti said, his voice steady, “this river has a direct connection to a demonic presence.”
Gama’s brows lifted. “You know… when we were coming, I smelled cherries on the wind. That wasn’t normal. I’m sure it was cherries, but there were no trees… and it’s not even cherry season.”
Viti’s jaw tensed.
“Cherries… That’s strange. But if you think about it… a demon and cherries — that’s not as odd as it sounds.”
They locked eyes.
Both faces, once filled with light irritation, had turned sober.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Without another word, they turned toward the village.
When Veti and Gama rushed into the village, they were met with something they weren’t prepared for —
A silence that didn’t feel empty.
It felt infested.
The moment they crossed the old, broken gate, both of them froze.
Not fallen.
But sitting.
Hundreds of villagers were gathered in perfect stillness — each of them kneeling, hands resting on their thighs.
Mouths wide open.
Eyes fully open — but blank.
Just white.
As if something had plucked the color of their soul right out of them.
Their faces were tilted ever so slightly upwards, like they were praying... to something not of this world.
Veti’s breathing slowed.
His eyes widened — not from fear, but disbelief.
His lips moved, barely finding the strength to speak.
“What... is this...?”
His jaw clenched. Hard.
His voice cracked somewhere between a whisper and a scream.
Gama didn’t reply.
He moved his neck to the left — slowly, stiffly —
Nothing changed.
Still in that same position.
Still staring.
Still silent.
He turned right.
Still the same.
Everywhere.
A strange wind brushed past them — but not a single body moved.
Not even the clothes fluttered.
Something was terribly wrong here.
And this... was just the beginning.
A sudden gush of energy hit Gama like a storm blast —
he was flung meters away, his body smashing through the cracked ground.
Veti’s eyes widened in shock — but not for long.
He immediately regained his focus.
In mid-air, a silver shimmer twisted around his palm —
his katana formed, sleek and sharp.
With flawless momentum, he countered the unseen attack with D-Force —
a strike so powerful, it annihilated the small shrine behind them in one clean blow.
The impact thundered through the trees — wood splinters and fire dancing into the air.
The attack hit nothing.
Only the shrine suffered.
Whatever had attacked them… was still invisible.
Gama, now recovered, drew his own blade —
“Roarsong.”
A deep hum followed as the weapon carved through the air.
He slashed diagonally toward the source — and this time,
a scream split the silence.
It wasn’t a loud one.
But sharp.
Sharp enough that the sky itself seemed to wince.
His blade had hit something — or rather, someone.
She appeared.
Fifteen, maybe sixteen.
Porcelain skin. Soft pink hair. A serene, almost angelic face.
In her delicate hands —
a small handful of cherries.
Veti and Gama’s eyes snapped toward her hands.
That smell.
The cherries.
It all made sense now.
“Who… are you?” Veti asked, voice cautious but firm.
The girl didn’t flinch.
She stepped forward, slowly, with soft twirls, almost like a dance.
Her arms drifted behind her back. Her expression never changed.
She looked… calm.
Not like someone who had just been struck.
More like someone who had decided to be found.
She smiled —
a delicate, almost kind smile.
“Hello,” she said sweetly.
“My name is Vridia. I’m sixteen years old.”
“These people…”
“They’re my friends.”
That single sentence…
sent a shiver down both elites' spines.
It was so innocent.
Too innocent.
And yet her presence… felt unholy.
She looked like an angel.
But the air around her whispered a demon’s truth.
Veti stepped back slightly.
“Who are you… really, kid?” he asked.
Somewhere inside, he already knew the answer.
But hope was a stubborn thing.
Another smile tugged at her lips.
She tilted her head.
“Don’t you mean what I am?”
That single correction —
shattered their illusions.
She wasn’t hiding anything.
She wanted to be known.
Before they could react further —
Vridia lifted her hand.
And with one lazy motion, she sliced through all of the villagers.
No hesitation.
No expression.
The people were already dead — their souls long gone —
but their bodies were still intact, still human…
Until now.
She cut them down effortlessly.
Their bodies dropped like puppets with strings suddenly severed.
Among them were children.
Women. Elders. Entire families.
Gama’s heart stopped for a second.
“You… killed them… again,” he whispered.
The calmness on her face never changed.
The air, still heavy with unspoken horror, drifted east —
carried by a silence that clung to the trees and whispered across the land…
…until it found two footsteps echoing down an old, forgotten path.
Soft creaking accompanied each double step as Mosu and Leoran walked toward the Tower of Solace, a place mentioned in the cryptic "Book of Lullabies." They headed there because Mosu had unintentionally ripped page 465, revealing a crucial location directly connected to Elurin—not due to some past tragedy, but because it was the only place linked to the entire region. The Great Gold River War had taken place there, and while not directly tied to Elurin, the area bore a dark history of changing people. Anyone who went there returned different. (Leoran didn't call it the Gold River War tragedy because its origins were clearly intentional.)
They walked in silence. Mosu was still grumbling, his cheeks puffed out like a pufferfish, because Leoran had yelled at him for ripping the page.
"Huh?" Leoran glanced over his shoulder at Mosu, who was walking a few meters behind him. He felt confused, and a pang of guilt.
Leoran sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. Mosu heard him but didn't respond, turning his face away.
"Hey, why are you sulking?"
Mosu clenched his fist and yelled, "What do you mean sulking?! Why'd you have to yell at me? Didn't I tell you it wasn't on purpose? Thanks to me, we found a crucial piece of information, didn't we?!"
"Yes... but..." Mosu, still seething, remained silent and continued walking.
"I... I'm..." Leoran mumbled, barely audible.
Mosu's ears perked up with lightning speed. "What did you say?!"
Leoran stood, his neck bent, staring at the ground beneath him. He tried to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.
With each "I...mm," Mosu slid closer to him. "I'm saying," he began, "you deserved that yelling!"
Mosu's face flattened like a piece of paper. He tsk'd at Leoran. Leoran's cheeks turned red, not from embarrassment, but because the temperature had suddenly spiked.
"Huh? Why's it suddenly so hot?" Mosu was also breaking out in a sweat.
"You're right, it was normal a moment ago..." They both looked up. Nothing extraordinary. The sky was clear, not even particularly sunny. The heat was coming directly from the Tower of Solace. The closer they got, the more intense it became.
"Oh, Leoran, look! We're almost there!" Mosu pointed ahead at the towering structure, standing alone on the edge of a small mountain. It wasn't a small tower at all; it was huge, with its own unique history.
Mosu took a step forward, but something felt wrong. He sensed a vast amount of dark energy radiating from ahead—something invisible, like a malevolent presence waiting for them. The moment Leoran stepped forward, an invisible barrier detected their human presence. It hurled a volley of dark, flaming projectiles at Leoran, but Mosu was quick. He lunged in front of Leoran and blocked the initial assault with his Rain Breathing "Seal of Drops." Leoran swiftly backed up, forming his Wind Wave Breathing Technique Form 1.
The air became a storm of daggers. Dark flames, sharp and relentless, rained down from all directions. Midway through their trajectory, every flame seemed to accelerate, their edges blurring with renewed speed. "What is this?!" Mosu grunted, struggling to maintain his "Seal of Drops" with his left hand while trying to deflect the searing projectiles with his pure physical strength. "Argh," he groaned, "My heart's pounding! They're too fast!"
"They're coming from everywhere! I can't see their origin!" Leoran replied, his words cut short by the sheer pressure and the burning sensation on his skin.
Realizing the onslaught was too great to face individually, Mosu and Leoran combined their seals, planting themselves in the middle of the clearing, backs facing each other. Leoran, utilizing his Wind Wave Breathing, moved like a blur, tackling the attacks in the air, his hands and feet a whirlwind of defensive motions. Mosu, meanwhile, used his formidable strength and Rain Breathing, tackling the ground-level flames, stomping, sweeping, and deflecting the searing projectiles. They countered over twenty flames, then thirty, then forty, but it was too much, too sudden, and utterly unending. The ground around them began to char and sizzle from stray impacts, and the air crackled with raw power.
As their combined teamwork began to falter under the relentless assault, Leoran shifted tactics. He started utilizing his teleportation technique as a defensive wall, appearing and disappearing in blurs, clearing the flames by essentially blinking through them. While Leoran used his incredible speed to evade and disperse attacks, Mosu continued to rely on his "Seal of Drops" for direct defense and brute force to tackle the incoming projectiles. Leoran was blindingly fast, a master of combat mobility. However, to truly destroy a flame, Mosu only needed two powerful blows, while Leoran, despite his speed, required four or five precise strikes to achieve the same result. The sheer volume of the attacks, combined with their differing combat styles, was slowly wearing them down.
Leoran quickly retreated, placing his middle and index fingers on his forehead. A faint light twinkled from his hand, connecting with the center of his forehead. Then, a sudden, unsettling silence fell over the chaotic barrage. He had entered his inner domain. He saw a statue, and then it clicked: "I see! A statue here!"
The barrage resumed, even more furious. Leoran, with newfound precision, countered two flames mid-air, one with his left leg, the other with his right hand, using pure force. "Statue, Leoran? Did you see something?" Mosu called out, his voice strained. A searing flame slammed into Mosu's back with brutal force, sending him sprawling to the ground, spitting dirt. "Ugh, ugh!"
"Are you okay?!" Leoran's concentration broke slightly at the sight of his fallen friend. He tried to help Mosu, but the dark energy flow surged towards him, accelerating with predatory speed. A particularly large, incandescent flame roared directly for Leoran’s chest. In Mosu's eyes, he saw only Leoran's face and that speeding flame. His heart skipped a beat, then hammered. If that flame, speeding at 1 kilometer per 5 seconds, hit Leoran with his concentration broken, it could severely injure him. No, it would kill him.
Mosu, despite his own agony, poured every last shred of his remaining energy into his left hand. With a desperate, powerful surge, he grabbed Leoran's wrist, pulled him closer, and with all his might, slammed his open palm onto the ground. The impact was cataclysmic. The entire earth shook with an ominous tremor, as if the mountain itself groaned in pain. A colossal cloud of dirt and debris erupted, spreading across the entire forest, even engulfing the Tower of Solace itself. The shockwave of that single, desperate strike could be felt as a minor tremor in distant areas and cities. It was a blow that bought them time, but at an immense cost.
Slowly, the dense dust faded, revealing them lying on the ground. Mosu lay unconscious beside Leoran, still instinctively shielding him with his body. Leoran groaned, his strength severely weakened, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. But then, his struggle for air abruptly stopped as he saw Mosu unconscious beside him. His face turned pale. Sudden panic seized him. "Hey!" Leoran's lips trembled with fear, but he clenched back his tears, trying desperately to wake him up. He quickly scrambled up, using his remaining strength to check on Mosu. Leoran knelt down, shaking Mosu with full force. No response. With every lack of response, his heart skipped beats, but the pain of his own injuries faded into insignificance.
He checked Mosu's pulse. It was slow but there. A wave of fragile relief washed over him, but Mosu was still unconscious. Leoran's abilities didn't include healing, so without wasting another second, he lifted Mosu onto his back and tried to teleport, but he was too weak. It didn't work. The only option now was to run at full strength. It would take four to five hours to reach Hill District, but there was no choice. He activated his Communication Mist, desperately sending a message to Kenren.
"Help us!" His voice was trembling, but he did everything to control himself, even as his head spun. He felt an agonizing weight, not just from Mosu's unconscious body, but from the crushing burden of responsibility. He began to drag Mosu with every ounce of his remaining strength. He kept calling out to him. "Mosu! Oi! Wake up! You're heavy, wake up and walk by yourself!" It was helpless. With each passing second, he sensed Mosu's heartbeat fading...
He clenched his lips, biting down hard until he tasted blood. "You dare to die on me..."
A few moments ago...
From the crumbling spire of the Tower of Solace...
A small, childlike figure sat silently — legs dangling over the ledge. Their silhouette almost blended into the dark stone, save for the eerie glow in their half-lidded eyes.
They watched the scene below — every stumble, every scream, every burn — with a smile that didn’t match the shape of their face.
"That one..."
Their voice was soft. Almost innocent. But the words didn’t belong to innocence.
"The boy with the rain... wasn’t he the one who interrupted something important between me and Leoran?"
They tilted their head slowly toward Mosu’s unconscious body. The smile widened.
"How interesting..."
