Chapter 52: Illusion of Cabin
[: 3rd POV :]
Once the last trace of the slavers had turned to ash, Daniel stood still for a mont, letting the silence settle—not just over the forest, but over his own heart.
The storm inside him began to quiet.
He turned back slowly, the fury fading from his eyes as they landed once more on the small, fragile figure curled beneath the tree.
The violet glow dimd.
The killing intent dispersed.
And all that remained was the gentle warmth of soone who no longer wanted to see suffering.
He knelt beside her again, his voice soft—gentler than anything that had co before.
"You can open your eyes now, little one."
Erina blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering like fragile wings as she looked up at him.
She opened her eyes—expecting horror, expecting the bloody aftermath of violence—but found nothing.
No corpses.
No screams.
No traces of battle.
Just Daniel’s calm, reassuring presence... and the peace that had followed him.
She scanned the area, her gaze drifting from one tree to another, from the leaves to the distant horizon.
Nothing.
No bodies.
No blood.
No danger.
It was like the n who had tortured her had never existed.
Even though she was a child, even though her heart was still raw and broken—she sohow understood.
So things... weren’t ant to be spoken of.
So actions weren’t ant to be rembered.
And so monsters... were ant to be erased.
She opened her mouth, trembling slightly as words of gratitude tried to escape her.
But they never ca.
Because in the very next mont, a mory surged up—a flash of terrified eyes, a muffled scream, the image of her friends being dragged away.
Her eyes widened.
"—My friends!" she gasped, panic tightening her throat. "Th-they’re still—!"
Without thinking, she tried to stand.
Tried to run.
Her legs wobbled, knees buckling as her battered body scread in protest.
Too much pain.
Too much damage.
Her mana reserves were spent, her body too frail from days of starvation and tornt.
She took one step—and crumpled.
But she never hit the ground.
Daniel moved faster than gravity.
He caught her, arms steady and warm as they wrapped around her before she could fall.
One hand cradled her back while the other supported her legs, holding her as if she weighed nothing at all.
Her head rested against his chest, her breath shallow and uneven.
"I... I have to go," she murmured weakly, frustration and fear cracking her voice. "They’ll hurt them..."
"You won’t help them by collapsing,"
Daniel said gently, his tone firm but not unkind.
"You’ve done enough. Now... let ."
Tears welled in her eyes, though she didn’t let them fall.
Sothing inside her whispered that she didn’t need to be strong anymore.
Not right now.
Not while he was here.
Not while Daniel—the storm in human form—stood between her and the world.
Daniel slowly stood, still cradling the girl in his arms as her breathing steadied against his chest.
Her tiny hands were clenched into the fabric of his coat, and though her body trembled with fatigue, her eyes still burned with worry—not for herself, but for her friends.
He looked down at her gently, brushing a few strands of matted silver hair from her face.
"Can you show ?" he asked softly.
"Where did they take your friends?"
Erina’s lips trembled for a mont, then she lifted her hand slowly, pointing toward the dense thicket in the far distance.
"T-that way... beyond the ridge. Past the old stone arch..."
Her voice wavered, but her eyes remained clear—fueled by desperation and hope.
Daniel gave a single nod, his expression sharpening. "Good."
In an instant, a violet hue glimred across his irises, [ Eyes of Calamity: Far Sight ] activated.
The world around him shifted.
Trees parted in his vision, the forest stretching out in layers of blurred motion until his focus snapped far ahead.
His gaze zood forward like a phantom arrow, piercing through branches, rock, and mist.
And then—he saw them.
A decrepit outpost tucked in the middle of nowhere, half-hidden under an illusion barrier.
Cages lined the walls.
Dozens of crude symbols were engraved in the soil—barriers, traps, and mana suppressors.
And inside those rusted cages—huddled together in silence—were the dragon children.
There weren’t only dragon children, there were others.
Bound.
Wounded.
Frightened.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed with quiet fury. His voice was calm, but beneath it simred an unforgiving rage.
"I’ve found them."
He looked back at Erina. "Hold on to . Tight."
Erina blinked up at him, her eyes wide, but sothing in his tone made her small heart swell—not with fear, but trust.
She nodded. "Okay."
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her little fingers gripping the fabric of his cloak with everything she had.
There was no hesitation, no fear of him.
Despite all she had endured, she clung to him as though she believed—with every part of her—that he would never let anything happen to her again.
Daniel felt the weight of her trust and held her just a little closer.
"Good," he whispered. "Now... don’t let go."
And without a word more, Void Step was activated.
The world bent around them in an instant—colors stretched, reality cracked, and space folded like paper.
A thunderless roar echoed in silence as their figures vanished, consud by the void.
And then—within a heartbeat—they reappeared.
Right at the edge of the outpost.
Shrouded by shadows.
The scent of blood and fear thick in the air.
The cages weren’t far now.
As they arrived at the edge of the outpost, the world snapped back into form.
To Erina, it was as if space had folded in on itself—one mont she had been clutching Daniel in the forest, and the next, they stood amidst dense shadows near the outskirts of a desolate encampnt.
Her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide with astonishnt.
’What was that?’ she thought, glancing up at him.
She had never experienced such a phenonon before—not even among the dragons of her holand.
But despite the overwhelming curiosity blooming in her heart, she said nothing.
She simply held onto him tighter.
Because she trusted him.
Daniel placed her down gently on a patch of moss-covered stone, brushing the back of her head softly.
"Stay here for a mont," he said, his voice calm—but his eyes, glowing faintly violet, scanned the entire encampnt like a predator stalking the battlefield.
"I’ve counted over a thousand of them... Slave rchants," he muttered under his breath.
Erina’s heart thudded ’A thousand?’
Erina gazed over and she could find a cabin that couldn’t fit more than 10 people.
Perhaps Erina had forgotten that she was captured and chained in the sa place that was covered by lies.
But Daniel didn’t falter.
From within his inventory, he pulled out a small black orb pulsing with dim red light, it was a Spatial Barrier Core.
Without hesitation, he crushed it between his fingers, and a transparent do of ethereal light imdiately expanded around Erina.
It shimred faintly like glass made of magic, humming in the air with soft energy.
"Nothing will hurt you," Daniel said, his tone gentle but firm.
"This is just in case. I’ll be back before a minute passes."
Erina looked up at him with round, tired eyes—filled with fear, awe... and now, hope.
She nodded silently, placing both hands against the barrier’s warm surface.
"I’ll wait," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Daniel gave her one last look, a subtle but reassuring smile on his face.
Then, without a sound, he turned away—his coat fluttering in the windless air—and began walking toward the camp.
As Daniel approached the central structure cabin, he narrowed his eyes.
From the outside, it appeared to be a simple wooden cabin—worn with age, harmless in appearance, almost inviting.
But he wasn’t fooled.
His violet gaze shimred faintly as his Eyes of Calamity activated, revealing the distorted threads of mana woven into the air like a curtain of lies.
"A high-rank illusion spell," he muttered, lips curling into a cold frown.
"They really think this could fool ?"
With a simple, almost lazy wave of his hand, a ripple of black and violet energy flowed from his fingers, slicing through the illusion like a blade through silk.
The image of the cabin flickered—shimred—and then shattered into fragnts of false light that dispersed into the air.
"What a futile attempt," Daniel said, his voice low and contemptuous.
Before him now stood the truth.
A grotesque structure of cold tal and stone erged from the vanishing glamour—part laboratory, part prison.
Jagged pipes protruded from the walls, and cages of all sizes were lined up in rows like livestock pens.
The stench of chemicals mixed with blood lingered in the air.
Chains rattled faintly in the distance, and magical restraints pulsed along the walls, glowing faintly with sickly hues.
Inside, he could already sense the presence of weakened lifeforms—beaten, sedated, or broken.
The building wasn’t just a place to store slaves.
It was a facility ant to break them down—mind, body, and soul—for profit... or worse, experintation.
Daniel’s fists clenched at his sides, his heart cold and burning at the sa ti.
There would be no rcy here.
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