As we ventured deeper into the dense forest, the atmosphere grew increasingly eerie. Each step we took landed on fallen leaves, but the crunching sound was unnaturally loud—almost as if the forest itself was listening. I glanced around, a creeping sensation crawling over my skin, as if something—or someone—was watching me. Was it the trees? The forest? I wasn’t sure. I looked at Alya. She walked tensely, sweat beading and trickling down her forehead. It was clear she felt it too. My eyes then shifted to Master Luan, who was walking a few steps ahead of us. His posture was steady, but every muscle was alert, his guard clearly raised. My gaze moved to the soft white mana barrier surrounding us, the fragile shield protecting us from the cursed forest’s malevolent energy.

  Suddenly, I noticed a faint flicker within the white mana. My eyes widened, and I turned toward Master Luan, about to warn him. But before I could speak, Frostbite abruptly woke, leaping off my head and striding purposefully toward the darkest, most foreboding part of the forest. It was so shadowed there that nothing could be seen without a bright light. Without thinking, my body reacted instantly. I stepped out of the protective mana barrier, instinct overriding caution. Alya’s eyes widened in shock as she saw me move beyond the shield. “DLIVA!” she called out, panic lacing her voice.

  Master Luan heard her cry and whipped around, but I was already gone—following Frostbite into the heart of the cursed forest. With my departure, Master Luan’s concentration broke, and the white mana shield surrounding Alya immediately vanished, exposing both her and himself to the harsh, oppressive environment.

  Alya collapsed to her knees, the cursed energy too intense for her young body to withstand. The air thickened, suffocating and heavy, and she began to pant for breath. Seeing this, Master Luan quickly reactivated the white mana shield around her, providing a protective barrier from the forest’s dark influence.

  His eyes followed the direction I had taken, determination hardening his expression. “We’re going after him,” he declared.

  Alya nodded, resolve shining in her eyes despite the exhaustion weighing on her.

  Together, they prepared to follow into the shadows, knowing the dangers ahead were as much physical as they were unknown. The forest seemed to close in around them, but their courage burned brighter than the darkness that threatened to consume all.

  I followed Frostbite deeper into the cursed forest, each step crunching softly underfoot. The shadows around us thickened, the twisted trees bending inward like silent sentinels watching our every move. “Frostbite, where are you going?” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper.

  The little dragon didn’t slow; instead, it quickened its pace, moving with a purpose that stirred both curiosity and unease in me. “Frostbite, wait!” I urged, hastening my steps to keep up.

  After some time, we reached a large pond nestled among the bent, crushed trees. Despite the oppressive atmosphere of the cursed forest, the sight of the pond was unexpectedly serene—its glassy surface perfectly still, reflecting the muted light filtering through the canopy. For a moment, the eerie tension around me eased, replaced by a strange calm.

  Frostbite stopped at the very edge of the pond, his gaze fixed on the water. I stepped forward and looked down into the reflective surface. At first, I saw my own face staring back, but slowly, the image began to shift. The reflection morphed into a version of me with pure white skin, eyes glowing a vivid, icy blue, and a dark slash marking streaked across the left side of my face.

  A cold shiver ran down my spine as I swallowed hard, my heart pounding at the sight. Before I could react, the pond’s surface rippled violently, and in a single heartbeat, it pulled me in—or rather, the reflection pulled me into itself.

  The world around me dissolved into darkness as I was drawn into the unknown depths beyond the pond’s surface, leaving the cursed forest behind.

  In the Southern ruins

  The skeleton clad in assassin’s gear sat patiently beside a broken pillar, the ancient stone standing tall despite the threat of crumbling at any moment. The skeleton kept his head bowed, silent and still, until the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the ruins. Slowly, he raised his head to see Der entering, carrying the lifeless body of Natan.

  From the shadows, a tall, unnerving figure emerged—a slender entity with limbs bent at unnatural angles, its cracked, gray skin resembling burnt clay. Where a face should have been, a swirling dark smoke formed a hollow void, illuminated only by two bright, floating blue eyes that flickered like restless flames in the wind. As the entity noticed Der, he immediately dropped to one knee, his heavy armor clanging loudly against the stone floor. The smoky face shifted with the motion, the blue eyes drifting toward the corpse of Natan. “As I expected,” the entity’s deep, shaky voice rumbled. “You’ve returned, successful as always.”

  Der bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, Leader. I have brought the corpse, just as you commanded.”

  The skeleton, still seated, finally spoke. “So, now can I go hunt down that human?”

  The entity’s glowing eyes turned toward the skeleton, then shifted back to Der. “Der, you will accompany Arcaon to hunt that human.”

  Der’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would both of us be needed to kill just one human?”

  “That human is no ordinary man,” the entity replied, voice heavy with ominous certainty. “No more questions. Go.”

  Arcaon—the skeleton in assassin’s armor—rose silently and approached Der. As he came alongside the knight, his bony fingers gripped Der’s armor, cracking the metal slightly. Annoyed, Der shook off the skeletal hand and stood upright. “Let us move, Arcaon. The hunt awaits.”

  Arcaon’s hollow gaze seemed to glint with satisfaction as he smiled beneath his mask of bones and nodded in agreement. Together, they stepped deeper into the ruins, shadows stretching long as the ominous hunt began.

  In The Cursed Forest

  Master Luan called out urgently, “Dliva! Dliva, where are you?” His voice echoed through the dense forest, soon joined by Alya’s anxious calls. Their footsteps crunched over the fallen leaves as they hurried toward the source of the sound. Finally, they reached the pond where Frostbite stood, his small form tense and growling low, his roars barely audible but filled with warning. Master Luan’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of such a beautiful, serene pond nestled within the heart of the cursed forest. The white mana shield surrounding Alya flickered and then disappeared, yet this time she felt no oppressive weight or danger.

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  Slowly, they approached Frostbite, who continued to growl at the water’s surface. Master Luan knelt beside the dragon to get a better view of the pond, while Alya stood quietly behind, captivated by the pond’s strange, haunting beauty.

  “Frostbite,” Master Luan spoke softly but firmly, “where is Dliva?” Frostbite did not respond with words; instead, his growls deepened as his eyes fixed on the pond’s shimmering surface. Then, Master Luan realized the truth—Dliva was inside the pond.

  Without hesitation, Master Luan reached out his hand to touch the water. But before his fingers could graze the surface, the water instantly froze, forming a solid barrier of ice. Undeterred, Master Luan began pounding his fists against the ice, but his bare hands were powerless to break through.

  Determined, he summoned his white mana, coating his hands in a glowing aura, and struck the ice as hard as he could. The ice cracked and shattered, but the moment it broke, water surged up violently, engulfing him and pulling him beneath the surface. The forest grew silent, save for Alya’s sharp intake of breath and Frostbite’s anxious roars at the pond’s now still surface. The rescue had become a plunge into the unknown, and time was running out.

  Master Luan’s eyes flew open, and he found himself standing alone in an endless, empty sky. The vast expanse around him stretched into infinity, a void punctuated only by a glowing portal floating steadily before him. Its edges shimmered with an ethereal light, beckoning him forward. Just as he prepared to step through, a familiar presence made itself known behind him—a presence he instinctively recognized.

  Without hesitation, Luan turned, his gaze settling on a striking figure. The being’s skin was pure white, almost luminescent, radiating an otherworldly glow that illuminated the surrounding void. Its form was humanoid, but eerily perfect and unsettling in its unnatural brightness. Luan’s eyes locked onto the entity’s face, and he spoke quietly but firmly. “Sylim.”

  The white figure chuckled, a sound both cold and knowing. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it, Luan?” Its voice carried a weight of history and quiet reproach. Then, shifting in tone, the entity’s expression darkened. “This is the second time you have interfered with the work of God.”

  Luan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Second time? What do you mean by that?”

  Sylim’s glowing eyes fixed on him with an unsettling intensity. “Yes, the second time. The first was when you broke the sacred law of defense and offense. That defiance is why you were cursed with immortality.” The entity’s voice softened as it continued, tinged with disdain. “And I'd also like to mention, the lie you told those children—that you were cursed because you tried to learn white mana without a mentor—was perhaps the most foolish deception of all. Who would believe such a thing?” Despite the mocking tone, Luan remained composed. “They are innocent children. They would not understand the truth, so I gave them a simpler story.”

  Sylim rolled its eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Enough with these trivial excuses. What right do you have to interfere in God’s divine work?”

  Luan’s confusion deepened, but he forced himself to focus. “I want Dliva back.”

  A slow, almost sad smile crossed Sylim’s face. “That cannot happen.”

  “Why not?” Luan demanded, his voice steady but edged with desperation.

  Sylim regarded him for a long moment before sighing. “Dliva is undergoing a test—a test set forth by God.”

  Luan’s eyes widened in shock. “A test? What kind of test?”

  The entity’s smile grew faintly sharper, revealing gleaming white teeth. “I should not be telling you this—but since you are an old Friend, and you will forget it once you leave—I will say this: Dliva is the Wanderer.”

  No sooner had Sylim spoken than the endless blue sky above them shifted violently to a deep, angry red. The very fabric of the space trembled beneath their feet, and a cold wave of terror washed over Luan. Sylim himself shuddered, breathing heavily, the fear in his voice unmistakable.

  “What is happening?” Luan asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  "It is God. God has become angry,” Sylim replied, struggling to maintain composure. Then, quickly, another portal burst open beside them.

  "Luan, go through this portal and leave this place at once.” For a moment, Luan hesitated, staring intently at the swirling gateway. Then, gathering his resolve, he spoke with unwavering determination. "I will go with Dliva.”

  Sylim’s voice sharpened with warning. “Do you want to die, Luan?”

  "I do not care if I live or die,” Luan said firmly. “But a child should not have to endure something as nightmarish as God’s tests alone. I will leave only once Dliva is safe.”

  Without another word, Luan turned and stepped into the portal.

  “No, Luan!” Sylim called out after him, voice ringing with desperation. “Don’t interfere with God’s orders for the second time!”

  But it was too late. Luan had already vanished into the unknown, his fate intertwined with the trials that awaited him and the boy he vowed to protect

  I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by water, as if I were sinking into the depths of an endless ocean or a vast river. The current pulled me deeper with every passing moment, but I didn’t resist—I let gravity take me down without struggle.

  Suddenly, I sensed something rushing toward me from behind at an incredible speed. I twisted my body to the side, trying to dodge, but I wasn’t fast enough. The force slammed into me, knocking me backward. My hand grasped for a nearby rock, halting my fall. I turned to face my attacker.

  It looked exactly like the reflection I had seen in the pond: pure white skin, eyes glowing an icy blue, and a dark slash marking running across the left side of its face. The thing’s eerie gaze fixed on me, and it sneered, “My host is this weak?”

  It chuckled darkly before continuing, “If you’re this fragile, you won’t survive in this cruel world. How about this—we switch places. I become the host, and you stay trapped here. Deal?”

  “No,” I said firmly, locking eyes with it.

  It laughed, a cold, cruel sound. “I knew you’d refuse. So, I’ll make you say yes—through pain.”

  In an instant, it dashed forward and kicked me hard in the stomach. I doubled over, gasping for air. Before I could recover, it punched me, sending me crashing against an uneven stone wall. It advanced, grasping my jaw with unnatural strength and forcing my mouth open. Then, it grabbed my tongue and began pulling, sending searing pain through my entire body.

  In that excruciating moment, I thought, If only I had my scythe. Maybe I could defend myself, even just a little.

  Suddenly, a scythe materialized in my hand. The apparition recoiled, startled, and released my tongue. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the burning pain.

  As the agony subsided, a realization struck me—this was my inner world, and the thing confronting me was a weapon spirit—a manifestation of the power residing within me. From what I had read, only a few could host such spirits: elves with dark inner selves, humans bonded to spirit weapons, or those sealed with reapers. Since I was neither an elf nor sealed with a reaper, the only conclusion was that this was my weapon spirit.

  I looked at the scythe in my hand and smiled faintly, then met its icy gaze. “You are inside my inner world,” I said steadily. “And since you are my weapon spirit, if I die, you die with me.”

  Its eyes widened, fear flashing across its face. “You’re not seriously going to kill yourself, are you?” it asked, voice trembling.

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “I can’t defeat you, but if I let you take control, you will destroy Alya and Master Luan.”

  “What makes you say that?” it challenged.

  “All inner powers, except reapers, are inherently dangerous,” I explained. “I don’t have enough strength to prove myself to you, so I’ll end this before you can hurt those I care about.”

  Slowly, I raised the scythe and placed its sharp edge against my neck.

  Then, a desperate voice pierced the silence:

  “DLIVA! NO!”