Her cold breath gently stirred the forest.
The leaves of the trees whispered, as though passing soone’s secret from one to another.
They trembled.
The scent of blood still hung above the ground — fresh, warm, and sharp.
Aurora kept walking.
She made no sound with her steps.
The soil offered her no resistance.
It was as though the earth itself parted to let her pass.
Behind her, two sentences had been carried out.
Garrik.
Kael.
Their nas were now nothing more than dust particles scattering in the wind.
Aurora did not stop.
Yet sothing inside her was not silent.
Deep in her chest, in a place invisible even to herself, a very faint void had appeared.
She felt it.
It was not pain.
It was not exactly loss.
It was... fracture.
She slowly closed her eyes.
Her senses swept the surroundings like invisible fingers.
Normally her inner domain was ice-cold and flawless. Every thread of power perfectly in place, every layer of energy aligned in perfect order.
But now—
A tiny, almost imperceptible point was missing — sharp as the tip of a needle.
Aurora’s brow line gave the faintest twitch.
"...Interesting."
This was no coincidence.
And she did not believe in coincidences.
On the far side of the forest
Zaber was running.
No — he was fleeing.
Though he would never admit that word.
He moved among the trees like a shadow, leaving no footprints even when his feet touched the earth. His breathing was heavy, yet he did not stop.
The pressure that had rolled over him when Aurora arrived still lingered in his bones.
He hadn’t seen it.
He hadn’t even truly felt it.
One mont there was a fight.
The next mont there was nothing.
He was still trying to comprehend that instant.
There had been no explosion of power.
No wave of aura.
Only judgnt.
And execution.
Zaber’s hand trembled.
He finally stopped, leaned against a tree trunk, and drew a deep breath.
He visualized the soul chain.
A thin, gleaming chain materialized in his palm.
But this ti...
It was different.
Inside it flickered a very delicate golden light.
Zaber’s pupils narrowed, then widened.
"...This..."
He rembered.
The mont Garrik resisted.
The soul chain had not been able to fully harvest him.
Because they were stronger.
But in that fleeting mont of resistance—
The chain had torn for an instant... and caught sothing.
By accident.
Or...
No.
Not by accident.
Zaber closed his eyes.
He could feel the golden particle.
It was not ordinary energy.
It was dense.
Calm.
And impossibly heavy.
Like a tiny core.
The soul chain was only supposed to reap souls.
Yet through it, it could also glimpse mories, hold them, feel them, consu them.
How many hidden capabilities did the soul chain truly possess?
For the first ti, Zaber seriously wondered.
At the city walls
Aurora stopped before the gate.
The wind lightly lifted her pale golden hair.
Edvin knelt, waiting.
"My lady, is everything settled?"
"It is settled."
"Any further orders?"
Aurora turned her gaze far behind her.
She could not see the forest.
But she could feel it.
"Begin the search."
"At what level?"
"Concealed."
Edvin bowed his head.
"Who are we searching for?"
Aurora answered slowly.
"The masked boy. Do not kill him. He is weak... but sothing definite is hidden inside him. Find out exactly what it is."
It was not a na.
It was a mark.
And a mark was enough.
In the fissure within the soul
Zaber sat on the ground.
The golden particle slowly pulsed.
With each beat it sent faint tremors through his spiritual field.
He pressed his hand to his heart.
He heard himself.
The urge to flee — yet not from fear, not from the hunter.
This was sothing else entirely.
And...
Awe.
This power did not belong to him.
Yet it was inside him.
If he tried to force it out—
He might die.
If he left it—
It might grow.
Zaber bit his lip.
"Then... there is no choice."
He slowly wrapped his energy around it.
He coiled the soul chain around the golden core.
He intended to seal it.
But—
The core resisted.
For one brief mont.
The entire forest flared with light.
The trees shivered.
Birds exploded into flight.
Zaber’s vision turned white.
And he saw.
A vision.
A woman standing atop a palace.
Golden eyes.
Looking straight at him.
Directly.
Unflinchingly.
Zaber’s breath caught.
"No..."
This was not a mory.
This was a connection.
On the palace roof
Aurora opened her eyes.
She had seen it too.
One instant.
A dark forest.
And within it—
A golden flicker.
Her gaze turned colder.
"So that’s how it is..."
She placed her hand over her chest.
Now she felt it clearly.
One of the ones she had executed belonged to her own clan.
That power should have belonged to her bloodline.
Even though her clan had mysteriously vanished long ago, she still knew certain things about those who carried its blood.
In the deepest part of the forest, underground, inside an ancient circle of standing stones, a single eye opened.
It was not physical.
It was a spiritual watch.
It had sensed the clash of powers.
The tremor of the golden core.
It gave a slow smile.
"At last..."
It had waited many years.
Two forces.
One accidental bond.
The seed had been planted.
Now it would simply watch it grow.
And when the ti ca—
It would intervene.
Zaber remained on his knees.
Aurora stood on the roof with icy resolve.
The golden particle did not belong to order.
It was sothing foreign.
And it was alive.
"Who are you...?" she whispered.
There was no answer.
But in the next pulse she felt it.
Warmth.
No — not warmth.
Sothing else.
This energy was not ordinary power.
It carried command.
It carried supremacy.
Zaber took a deep breath.
He spun the soul chain once more.
This ti not to attack — to seal.
The chain began to wind around the golden particle.
One layer.
Then another.
The core resisted for a mont, but not as fiercely as before.
Yet it was not weak either.
Zaber’s breathing grew labored; hot blood rose in his throat.
He gathered all his focus, expanded his spiritual domain, pressed inward with the chain.
Finally—
The core stilled for a mont.
"What kind of core even is this...? The elental core I was waiting for is still four years away. When Larden arrives I’ll have to ask him to take it," he thought.
This could not simply vanish by chance.
Aurora murmured to herself:
"Even if I did not recognize my own kin and killed them... the blood would still bind us. Anyone who carries it alive would beco aware of ."
Either the boy possessed an unnatural power.
Or...
A third party had interfered.
Aurora’s gaze changed.
She disliked that thought.
Hidden gas. One of the things she hated most — because Aurora despised complexity.
She turned.
"Edvin."
The silhouette of the knight who had been kneeling behind her appeared.
"My lady."
"Search the eastern sector of the forest."
"Authorized level?"
"No."
Edvin understood imdiately.
Aurora’s voice was cold:
"Without rules."
Edvin bowed deeply.
This was not an ordinary order.
This carried personal wrath as well.
The warrior she had deed weak and spared had turned out to be far more than she expected.
Deep in the forest
Zaber stood upright.
His body still felt heavy.
But sothing inside had changed.
He felt the golden particle again.
Now it was silent.
Zaber clenched his fist.
"If I can control you..."
Zaber finally rose to his feet.
His breathing was still heavy.
"If I can control you..."
The golden particle pulsed quietly.
No longer aggressive as before.
This ti... it almost felt like it was responding.
Even though it was wrapped in the soul chain, it could still behave this way.
Then, in Zaber’s ears, a strange sound began to erge.
Very faint, as though coming from behind a wall:
"You are not ready yet..."
This was not imagination.
This was not his own thought.
Sothing inside the core possessed awareness.
At that very mont, on the palace roof, Aurora pressed her hand to her chest.
The missing particle suddenly made itself felt with double the weight.
The void widened.
Her gaze turned even colder.
This was supposed to be rely a fragnt of power—yet how could an ordinary ability produce the sensation of having lost sothing on the level of a national treasure?
Was it capable of spiritual attacks? she wondered.
Among the snow-covered mountains, at a height where the wind never ceases, there lay an ancient cave. Outside, a blinding blizzard raged, but inside—silence.
A table carved from stone. Two rough-hewn chairs. In the center, a pot of black tea, steam rising in slow curls.
Larden and his old friend sat facing each other.
Both were elderly.
But not ordinary old n.
Their eyes carried the weight of ti.
Larden’s friend turned the cup slowly in his hand, then finally spoke:
"Have you taken on a disciple?"
Larden did not hurry to answer. He took a sip of tea. His eyes vanished for a mont behind the rising steam.
"He cannot really be called a disciple..." he said in a quiet tone. "But yes."
The old man gave a faint smile.
"Why can’t he be called a disciple?"
Larden set the cup down gently on the table.
"Because I cannot understand him."
"You cannot understand him?"
"At one glance, he seems to co from another world entirely. Cold. Calculating. Every step asured. — Larden paused for a mont. — At the next glance... he is completely different. There is sothing wild inside him. An endless hunger. A desire that recognizes no boundaries."
The old man narrowed his eyes.
"Such people beco dangerous."
"I know."
"Then why did you draw him close?"
Larden turned his gaze toward the mouth of the cave. Outside, the snowstorm howled in fury.
"Because he is not an ordinary danger."
"Then what is he?"
Larden’s gaze deepened.
"He is a choice."
"What kind of choice?"
"If guided correctly, he will preserve the balance. If not..." He left the sentence unfinished.
The old man remained silent for a ti. Then he said slowly:
"Are you afraid?"
Larden smiled. Very faintly.
"I have not known fear for a very long ti."
He paused for a mont.
"But this boy... he is forcing to be cautious. And that, for ..."
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