The dark forest was still alive. Cold whispers slipped between the leaves, as though mories from the past still clung to the canopy of the trees. Zaber moved slowly, leveling each step with the soft earth, making no sound. His breathing was heavy yet rhythmic — his heart beat in the sa rhythm, while his mind sharply tracked every single sound.
He knew how to hide himself; it was his vital instinct. Aurora was inside the city — she definitely could not sense him yet. The knights were searching for him, but they still hadn’t found his true location. For Zaber, it was only a matter of ti — and ti was his greatest advantage. The longer Aurora remained unaware of him because of the yellow core, the more certain it beca that she would eventually search for him. He didn’t know exactly how, but he was convinced they were sohow connected.
A sharp shadow fell among the trees. He lightly moved his hands, stretching them through the thick branches, rging with the darkness. Holding his breath, he advanced almost invisibly, footsteps silent. With every breath he controlled the heat inside him: fear and caution intertwined.
One thing Zaber had long forgotten resurfaced — the six bees. They rested inside a small iron container. Each bee drew his attention. He watched them carefully, moving the lid without the slightest sound. These bees were his closest servants. Though they possessed no true intelligence, they would attack anyone other than Zaber — and that could buy him precious monts. Through them he not only felt secure, but also maintained his ntal balance. Every bee reflected his inner strength and vigilance.
In Zaber’s mind, all mories and present circumstances blended together. Every noise reminded him of danger; every whisper of the wind summoned caution. He wanted no one to see him, no one to hear him, and no one to know exactly where he was. In the dark layers of the forest he escaped, hid, and steadily gathered his power.
Watching the bees in his hands was not rely about preserving his life. Together with the bees he felt the inner rhythm of the forest: the beating of their wings, their faint humming, even the tiny noises they produced echoed in his consciousness. This gave him both peace and strength.
Zaber’s inner world was complex: he had to protect himself while simultaneously maintaining balance with his inner realm. Hiding in the dark corners of the forest, he focused on clear thinking. Over so many years Zaber had co to one deep understanding: it is not the mind that controls most people — it is their thoughts. If soone mocks another and provokes rage, the enraged person wants revenge or to strike — and their body slips out of control. But if that person chooses silence, the body either freezes or channels all attention into what they are doing. The sa happens with joy: if soone suddenly gains a lot of money and thinks only of pleasure, they will squander it on debauchery; but if they think of starting a business with that money, their life can completely change. That is why, for Zaber, the most important thing was the way of thinking. For example, before a battle he would fully convince himself that he was already defeated — and then he could fight calmly, without excitent or emotion. That calm could not be broken. And now he was fighting for himself — to preserve his life and shape his own power.
With every breath he remained cautious. With every glance he sensed his surroundings — the wind, even the movent of the trees. He knew: Aurora was active inside the city, the knights were searching for anything connected to her, yet he still remained unseen. Every second counted for Zaber.
He checked the bees. The six bees rested silently inside the iron container.
Zaber’s imagination was at its strongest in that mont. He hid carefully, yet inside he was gathering power. He ntally reviewed his mories and future strategies. Every decision was made with extre caution. Every action was part of his inner world — he never rushed.
The dark forest had beco not only a place of survival for him, but also a spiritual arena. While concealing himself, he was also planning to attack — because the best defense is a good offense. Every glance, every whisper of wind, every bee he controlled sharpened his attention and focus.
As the night deepened, only one goal existed in Zaber’s heart and mind: to hide, preserve his strength, and fully prepare his inner power — spiritually — before the world could find him. The forest was his sanctuary. Deep within this dark forest, isolated from the world, he gathered strength — only in this way could he be ready for the coming confrontation.
The trees stood tall, cold, wrapped in thick shadows; the wind rustled the leaves, awakening ancient mories. Every branch, every whisper — a signal for Zaber. He crouched low, rging with leaves and branches, adjusting his steps to the soft layers of the ground. Holding his breath carefully, he analyzed every movent.
From behind, in the dark shadow, footsteps suddenly appeared. Zaber darted behind a tree. *Impossible — they couldn’t have found this quickly,* he thought. The moonlight of the moon and Siamon spilled over the forest, illuminating those who approached.
Goblins. They had sensed that Zaber was fleeing — to them he appeared as prey. Their footsteps moved in eerie harmony. Zaber observed their movents, assessing them: who was advancing, who was moving left — every position shaped his next decision.
The six bees in his hands remained silent inside the iron container. They served as his ears and eyes — ready to be released at the critical mont to distract the goblins.
Zaber moved slowly but decisively. Every thick root, every fallen leaf on the ground beca part of his strategy. While hiding, he continued preparing every action for battle.
The goblins positioned themselves side by side for a mont, as though trying to encircle him from both sides. But Zaber already had a separate plan in mind — one he had prepared his whole life for unexpected situations. In one glance he found a safe spot and vanished among the leaves and branches, disappearing from their sight. At the sa ti he released one bee from the container — a small but effective sting diverted the goblins’ attention. They held clubs and iron cudgels, looking around, searching for him. One of them scread from the bee sting.
"Ggrrraaaaaaa!"
He had anticipated everything, already calculating his next two moves. If they went left, he would silently slip right; if they pulled back, he would move to the most advantageous spot for attack. Every action, every decision already existed in Zaber’s mind — and that was why he felt a strange pleasure in it.
One goblin ca dangerously close. Zaber took a quiet step and lted into the leaves. The goblin’s hand grasped empty air — he saw nothing. In that instant a plan ford in Zaber’s mind: distract them with the bees while creating a signal. He released two more bees. The goblins began colliding with each other in confusion. Five or six goblins fell into panic — the pain from these particular bee stings was incomparable to ordinary ones.
anwhile Zaber used that mont to slip much farther away. An open fight was not the right choice for him now. He had previously used the soul chain to seal the yellow core and could no longer draw on it. This place was ideal not only for hiding, but also for launching an attack. The small hollows beneath the snow layer aided him as well.
The goblins prepared to charge, but Zaber’s pre-planned strategy gave them no opening. With his senses expanded to the maximum, he could almost foresee their glances. At one mont he took a single step, leaped, and passed straight through their formation — they could not see him.
Yet it was the sequence of Zaber’s decisions that protected him. Blending movent and concealnt, he steadily increased his inner strength.
Finally one goblin turned and caught sight of Zaber — but he was still within the shadows. He aligned his steps with the psychological state from the beginning: caution, inner rhythm, unity of mind and motion. Every decision, every action — this was how he preserved his life and gathered power.
The night deepened further. Only one goal remained in Zaber’s heart and mind: to hide, preserve his strength, and fully shape his inner power before the world could find him. Every branch, every root, every whisper of wind reinforced his strategy. Every bee in his hand or inside the iron container — a reflection of his own inner power.
In this way Zaber continued his chess-like battle with the goblins, each decision and movent drawing the reader deeper. He hid, distracted, moved with utmost caution — yet inside he gathered strength, preparing for the next strike.
The forest remained alive: with the whispers of wind, the rustling of leaves, and the beating wings of bees — guarding its secrets. Zaber studied these secrets and turned them to his advantage. Every sound, every movent — like a chess piece strengthening his position.
The night deepened. Every branch and leaf beneath the snow watched Zaber’s movents, granting him the chance to hide and gather strength. Even if the goblins ca closer, Zaber could have killed them — but the reason he remained so extrely cautious was exhaustion. If he grew tired and stopped, unable to go farther, and Aurora or the knights arrived — he would be helpless. In truth, avoiding even these goblins entirely was currently the better option.
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