CHAPTER 1021: BLACKNESS

In the end, Jan kept walking toward Arty with his step slow and deliberate.

His nerves prickled like needles under his skin but he forced himself forward.

As a precaution, he drew his Magic inward and let it spread around his body and wrapped him in a faint shimmering aura. It wouldn’t withstand the full brunt of her power if she lashed out again but at the very least, it would keep him from dying instantly.

He finally reached her side and raised a trembling hand, resting it gently on her shoulder.

He braced himself, expecting a violent reaction like an explosion of Magic or a surge of elemental rage again. But nothing came.

Arty didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch. She just stood there, her body rigid and her presence feels unnervingly hollow.

Jan exhaled slowly and stepped around to face her.

That was when his breath caught in his throat. Her face was devoid of expression. Her skin was pale as moonlight. But it was her eyes that froze him where he stood.

They were black. Completely utterly black. Like the deepest night with no stars, no reflection, and seemingly no end.

Jan staggered back a step, his heart pounding harder.

He stared at her, his concern now burning hotter than his fear.

"What is happening? Is this caused by that boy’s attack or something else?"

He had never seen anything like this before. Not once in all his years of training, fighting, or adventuring in the forest. And Arty wasn’t even of this world. She was the sister of a Dragonborn, carrying power that none of them could fully comprehend.

The possibilities clawed at his thoughts, countless complications flashing in his mind.

"I better gather everyone and move away from here as soon as possible."

He raised his hand, summoning the crystal sphere that had been hovering overhead and silently recording everything that had happened until now.

The orb descended smoothly into his palm, its faint glow pulsing with Magic after bearing witness to the horrors it had captured.

He tucked it quickly into his pouch, keeping it safe. This will be important later.

Turning back toward Arty, he began to move, ready to call the others together and get them away from this broken battlefield before anything else happened.

But then Arty moved.

Jan froze in the middle of his step. Slowly, she turned her head toward him.

Her blackened eyes locked onto his eyes and in that instant, Jan felt an abyss gazing back at him.

It feels like a void that was so absolute it seemed to swallow him whole. His knees weakened as though he were falling into an endless pit, his soul pulled toward the darkness.

Then, as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone.

Her eyes blinked, the blackness vanishing, replaced by her usual eyes.

Her expression softened and life flooded back into her pale face.

She looked around, dazed and confused, as if awakening from a dream.

"What... happened?" Arty asked, her voice weak, trembling.

Her knees buckled and she nearly collapsed, but Jan lunged forward and caught her in time.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quickly, studying her face, searching for any lingering trace of that void.

"I’m... I don’t know." Arty grimaced, her brows knitting as she tried to recall something. But the more she searched her memory the more her confusion grew, twisting her expression in pain.

"Don’t worry about that," Jan said firmly. "We must get out of here now."

Without another word, he crouched and lifted her onto his back, carrying her as carefully as he could.

Then he turned and moved swiftly away from the devastation, his every step driven by urgency.

Five minutes later, they had all gathered again.

Hund stood watchful, Esther’s eyes sharp and wary, Annette knelt at Arty’s side, her hands glowing faintly with healing light as she checked her condition.

The group had reunited, but the weight of what had just happened pressed heavily on them all.

Annette’s hands worked steadily to check on Arty’s condition.

None of them could shake the unease that still lingered in their hearts.

They all exchanged uneasy glances because of the weight of what Arty had done.

The sheer force she unleashed, something so raw and devastating, was beyond what any of them had expected. Even when they know that she is actually strong.

None of them could quite believe she carried that much power within her.

Jan remained silent about the part that troubled him most which was her eyes turning black. That truth was something he would reserve for Archmage Sylmira alone. Sharing it now would only worsen their unease, perhaps even make them fear Arty which would make her uncomfortable.

"How is she?" Esther, the witch, finally broke the silence, her tone sharper than she intended.

"There’s nothing wrong with her," Annette replied steadily, her hands pulling away as the faint glow around them faded. "Her wounds are trivial, and nothing serious has happened to her brain or her Magic power."

She sighed and glanced at Arty. "But... even if her body is fine, nobody walks away from a battle like this completely unscathed."

Arty’s expression reflected that truth. She sat quietly, her eyes clouded with confusion, her lips parting slightly as if she was lost in thought.

Finally, she asked in a trembling voice, "What happened to me?"

Annette shook her head. "We don’t know."

Jan stepped in quickly. His tone was firm and carrying authority. "That’s why we should return to the kingdom as soon as possible. This isn’t the place to discuss it. Can you move?"

Arty pushed herself up, brushing Annette’s hand aside. Though her movements were steady, there was still a fragile uncertainty in her eyes.

"I’m totally fine," she said.

"Good," Jan said without hesitation. He cast one last glance at the ruined battlefield, his face set like stone. "We move now. We just leave those noble brats here. I’ve already gathered the evidence we need." He patted the pouch where the glowing crystal sphere rested.

No one argued. They fell into formation, surrounding Arty protectively as they began their march away from the devastation.

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