Night fell over the ruins like a heavy shroud, swallowing the jagged landscape in darkness.
The only light ca from a small, flickering fla, a fire conjured by Nero, hidden beneath the protective veil of his barrier.
The shimring do not only concealed them from wandering threats, but muffled their presence entirely.
To anything outside, they didn’t exist.
Nero sat cross-legged on the ground, wand resting loosely in his lap.
Across from him, the girl huddled close to the fire, her thin fra trembling despite the warmth.
Her eyes, hollow and distant, reflected the orange glow of the flas like dim lanterns.
The weight of despair still clung to her like a second skin, but Nero’s Occluncy shields held strong.
The emotional aura that radiated from her barely grazed his ntal defenses.
By now, to Nero, it was just a faint background hum of sadness.
She hadn’t spoken since they left the battlefield.
Nero watched her quietly, his gaze steady. Then he flicked his wand.
The air around them shifted, growing subtly warr as Nero spread a gentle heating current through the barrier.
Between his understanding of eastern magic and the accelerated learning with his paper clones, Nero could now use such advanced elental concepts, with intent alone, albeit on a small area.
The cold bite of the Shatterveil faded, replaced by a soft, lingering warmth that eased the tension in his limbs.
The girl flinched at the change, blinking up at him.
"I ward the air," Nero explained. "You looked cold."
She stared at him for a long mont, her lips parting as if she wanted to say sothing.
But no words ca out. Instead, she just... curled in on herself, shoulders shaking.
Nero let her cry.
She didn’t sob or wail, the sound was small, broken, like she didn’t have enough strength to grieve properly.
He didn’t try to stop her, or promise it would be okay.
In the Shatterveil, those words would have been a lie.
But he could make the night a little less cruel.
He quietly conjured a blanket and draped it over her shoulders.
She stiffened, eyes wide, before slowly clutching it with frail fingers.
For a mont, Nero rembered another world, another winter, but the mory slipped away before it could settle.
They sat like that for a long while.
The only sounds were the crackling fire, Lyra’s slow breathing, and the distant, inhuman howls of the Shatterveil.
Finally, the girl spoke.
"Why... why aren’t you scared?" she whispered, voice hoarse and raw.
"Everyone’s scared of us. Even the bad people."
Nero tilted his head, watching her through the flas.
"I’m just built differently," he said.
She blinked, confused. "What?"
"It’s just sothing I often tell my friends," Nero said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I am soone that can see beyond appearances."
The girl didn’t smile, but her head dipped slightly, almost like a nod.
Nero leaned back, resting his elbows on the ground.
His blue eyes glead in the dim light. "I’ve already fought worse things than despair," he said, voice quiet but firm. "Your aura isn’t going to break . And I know it isn’t your fault."
Her fingers tightened around the blanket. She bit her lip, tears streaking down her cheeks again.
But this ti, she didn’t cry all alone.
Nero stayed with her.
When the tears finally stopped, she wiped her face with her sleeve, sniffling.
Nero sat up. "Can you tell your na?"
She hesitated. Then, finally: "Lyra."
"I’m Nero," he said. "Nice to et you, Lyra."
She clutched the blanket tighter. "Why... why are you helping ?"
"Because you needed help," Nero said simply.
Lyra looked down, her face crumpling again, but she didn’t cry this ti.
She just breathed. Shaky, shallow breaths.
Nero watched her carefully. "Can you tell about your clan?" he asked, voice gentle. "Whatever you know."
Lyra fidgeted with the blanket’s edge, staring at the flas.
"I... I don’t know everything," she whispered. "I’m only 15 years old, so they do not tell everything. But... my mom said we’re cursed. A long ti ago, soone in our family did sothing terrible. And the curse fell on all of us."
Her voice wavered, cracking.
"They say the curse eats happiness," Lyra continued. "That being around us makes people... lose hope. Makes them want to hurt themselves. Or run away."
Nero nodded, letting her talk.
"We tried to live far away," Lyra whispered. "But people would still find us. Sotis they’d co to kill us. Sotis they’d try to use us." She hugged herself, eyes distant. "And sotis... people like Malrik’s soldiers would co. And take soone away."
Nero’s jaw clenched.
"How often do they co?" he asked, voice low.
Lyra shook her head. "I don’t know. It... it depends. Sotis they co more when the tree glows brighter."
"The hollow tree?" Nero asked.
She nodded. "It’s... it’s connected to the curse. My mom said it grows from our sadness. That it... feeds on it. But I don’t know why."
Nero’s fingers twitched.
A living tree that fed on despair.
A warlord who hunted the cursed clan for their suffering.
And a city that twisted itself like a living beast.
The Shatterveil was more than just broken magic.
It was sothing alive.
Sothing hungry.
For a long ti, Nero sat in silence, the magical warmth fading as his conjured flas dwindled to nothing.
Across from him, Lyra remained curled in her blanket, staring into the darkness, her eyes reflecting the faint, dying glow.
She hadn’t truly slept. Most survivors in the Shatterveil woke at every sound, terror flickering in their faces.
But Lyra’s stillness was different, a hollowed silence that went beyond fear, as if she’d already surrendered to the city’s emptiness.
Nero watched her a mont longer, wondering just how deep the curse had carved into her soul, and what secrets the Hollow Tree still kept hidden.
As the first light of dawn began to pierce the horizon, Nero let the last embers of his magic fade away with a flick of his wand and stood, stretching. "We should get moving," he said. "We’re close."
Lyra hesitated, then slowly rose, clutching the blanket around her shoulders like armor.
They walked through the ruins in silence, Nero leading with his wand drawn, the Shikigami eagles circling overhead to scout the way.
After hours of careful travel, the landscape began to change.
The shattered streets gave way to twisted fences and ruined huts, all clustered around the base of a monstrous, hollow tree.
As they drew closer, Nero felt it: a low, rhythmic vibration beneath his feet, as if the earth itself was breathing.
The ruined buildings seed to pulse in ti with so unseen heartbeat, shadows shivering even in the gray morning light.
Lyra, who had drifted a few paces behind for most of the journey, now edged closer to his side, clutching her blanket tighter.
The air felt heavier here, thick with sorrow and a kind of ancient magic that pressed in from every side.
For the first ti, Nero understood why the clan never left this place, why even despair could have roots deeper than fear.
In the distance, dark silhouettes moved between the buildings.
Nero glanced at Lyra. "This is it?"
She nodded, her grip on the blanket white-knuckled.
Nero stepped closer to the village, activating his Raven Eyes and scanning the strange pulse of magic and life that hovered at its heart.
They were here.
The cursed clan’s village.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
50 Chapters ahead on Patreon (Suiijin): Chapter 197: The Fall of the Dark Lord
Reviews
All reviews (0)