CHAPTER 39: THE ONE WHO WATCHES

The forest kept changing.

Eren had already counted three identical hills, five stone formations that seemed to repeat like imperfect copies, and even a tree where he himself had left a mark... which he found again half an hour later.

Something was wrong—not physically, but perceptibly. The smell of the earth was the same, the dry leaves crackled with the same tone, and the sky above... never changed color. Time didn’t pass. Or rather, it only passed enough to make it seem like there was progress.

Kaela was irritable. She stopped every minute to sniff the ground, circle around, grumble low. Counterintuitive instinct.

Morwynn, on the other hand, was excessively calm. She walked in the shadows with her subtle steps, eyes too alert for someone who had already noticed they were going nowhere.

Nyssa stayed closer to Eren than usual. She seemed to understand—even without logic—that they were in a loop. It was like being inside a silent nightmare: the paths changed to keep everyone trapped.

Eren stopped. He looked around. Took a deep breath. He wasn’t sweating. He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t sleeping. But he was mentally exhausted.

"This isn’t a forest. It’s a veil. A system of layers."

Morwynn turned to him.

"A labyrinth without walls. Well thought."

"A protection system, perhaps?" Nyssa ventured. "To hide something?"

Eren didn’t respond. His red eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to find a pattern. There was something there... an invisible line that determined where they could or couldn’t go. But how to see a path made to be ignored?

That’s when the air cooled.

From a nearby tree—once solid, now translucent—emerged Sylha, the ghost. She seemed less hazy, more defined. Her hair floated gently, as if the physical world was just a suggestion to her.

"Still trying to break the logic of the forest with logic?" she asked with a crooked smile.

Eren wasn’t surprised. He just raised an eyebrow.

"Got anything better?"

"Trick the system. That’s what you do best, isn’t it?"

Kaela growled. She still didn’t trust that ethereal creature.

"And how do we do that?" Eren asked, direct.

Sylha approached. She touched his forehead with two fingers cold as a death breeze. A slight shiver ran down his spine, but he remained still.

"The forest isn’t trapping us. It’s observing. Every step, every decision. The problem is that you are consistent. You think, act, and react with coherence."

"Is that a problem?" Morwynn murmured.

"Here it is. What it fears the most... is chaos."

Eren crossed his arms.

"You’re saying I need to act like an idiot?"

"No." Sylha smiled. "You need to act like someone broken. Like someone without intention. Without pattern. Dodging isn’t enough. You need to lie with your body."

She extended her hand, and a small rune floated between her fingers, made of mist and spectral glow. As it touched Eren’s chest, it dissolved with a subtle crackle. Immediately, the system blinked:

[Sensory Deception Learned]

[You can now camouflage your presence and magical intention for short periods.]

"Walk in zigzags. Think of disconnected things. Touch the ground with broken rhythms. And most importantly: don’t wish to leave the forest. The forest listens."

Kaela snorted.

"This is all nonsense. We can break the trees if needed."

"And they will rebuild. I’ve seen it before," Sylha replied with sweet venom.

Eren nodded.

"Does it work?"

"It worked for me. Now... it doesn’t matter anymore."

She blinked. And then began to disappear. First the feet, then the arms, finally the eyes.

"When you reach the end... you will understand the reason for the curse. Good luck, Eren."

And she vanished.

The group looked at each other. Eren just twirled his wrist, signaling: "let’s go."

They started walking. And did exactly as Sylha suggested. Kaela took long steps, then short ones. Morwynn disappeared and reappeared in random places.

Nyssa floated around Eren without a fixed pattern. And Eren... well, he simply turned off rationality for a moment. He started thinking of impossible combinations: "a forest made of flesh," "a monster that smells like paint," "a bond that breaks with a kiss."

The ground trembled, for a second. Then, the forest seemed to change tone—as if a layer had been peeled away. The branches seemed to bend backward. The stones became opaque. The sky... brightened a bit.

And suddenly, there it was: a stone path, previously invisible, now revealed like an exposed nerve.

They followed.

The trail was narrow, flanked by trees white as bones. The ground was dry, without vegetation. And the air had a different smell—not of forest, but of... abandonment.

After a few hours, the group spotted something in the distance. Broken towers. Cracked walls. Rusted gates. An entire city, like a sleeping corpse.

"What place is this?" Nyssa whispered, shrunken.

Morwynn looked with wide eyes.

Eren observed calmly. The system revealed:

[City Identified: Silent Kharath]

[Status: Cursed. Limited interaction. Spectral presences detected.]

[History: City sacrificed in the Ashes Accord. Active curse.]

Kaela sniffed the air.

"This place reeks of death."

Eren squinted his eyes. The trail led them straight through that city. As if there were no alternative. Sylha had vanished. But she left the message clear:

The forest didn’t want to hide Barovik. It wanted to hide what came before.

They continued.

The group had advanced through the ruins of the cursed city until they found a clearing where the rubble allowed some visual respite. The structures, corroded by time and by something older than time itself, seemed to sigh in silence. The sensation was of being watched at every moment, not by eyes, but by memories. Memories that the city no longer wanted to carry.

Eren stopped under a broken arch, looking toward the shrouded horizon. The trees beyond the walls were denser, the branches longer, and the air carried a tension that didn’t come just from the curse. Kaela and Nyssa rested near a dry well. Morwynn, however, was restless.

She moved behind Eren—silent as always, but not imperceptible to him.

"Can I take you to a higher place?" she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to throw me off a tower?"

"No." Her tone carried an implicit smile. "But I can pull you up."

Before he could respond, he felt the touch. Threads as fine as silk wrapped around his wrists, damp, cold—and yet with a living temperature, almost warm.

Morwynn enveloped him with an almost dancing elegance, and in an agile movement, they were both lifted to the top of an ancient tree, still standing above the ruins.

The view from up there was disturbing: the ruins of Kharath stretched as far as the mist allowed sight. There were shadows that seemed not to move, but definitely shifted places when unobserved.

Morwynn stopped behind him, releasing the threads slowly.

"Here, no one hears us. Not even the forest. This spot... does not belong to it."

Eren turned to face her. They were closer than ever. Morwynn was without the shadowed hood that usually covered her face.

Her eyes held multiple tones, violet reflections with silver specks, like liquid galaxies. Her skin was pale, almost translucent. The fangs discreet, but present.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Because you never stop," she said. "Not to breathe. Not to feel."

"Feeling is irrelevant. I just need to..."

She raised one of her hands and placed it on his shoulders. First time. A real touch. Cold and delicate, yet firm.

"You’re evolving too fast. Even for you," she spoke, almost in a warning tone. "Your eyes are getting redder, your voice harsher. Even the way you walk... is different."

"What do you mean?"

Morwynn did not immediately respond. She stepped forward, reaching his height, their bodies almost touching.

"That you need to remember why you’re doing this. For whom. It’s not just about winning. Nor about exploiting the universe’s flaws." She slid her fingers down his arm, in a light provocation. "It’s about keeping what you have. Before you lose everything."

Eren sighed. This wasn’t the type of conversation he expected.

"And what exactly can I lose?"

Morwynn smiled.

"You can lose yourself. And... lose what you haven’t even had yet."

For a second, Eren didn’t respond. But she moved closer, and the warmth of her body, though subtle, reached him. There was something in that presence—something that mixed seduction, logic, and a meticulous care that did not match the coldness he exuded.

"Do you like me, Morwynn?" he asked, directly.

She looked at him. Her eyes danced with light and shadow.

"I like your mind. The way you break rules. How you understand monsters better than humans." She slid one of her hands to his chest. "But if you’re asking me if I want to be more than a tool... then yes, I do."

Eren didn’t respond. His eyes only studied her. He wasn’t good at this—never was. Relationships for him were like contracts: objectives, exchanges, outcomes. But something about Morwynn was different. She saw him, not just his potential.

Morwynn then pulled him closer. Their bodies touched. There was no kiss. Not yet. Just a moment where her breath mingled with his, where the subtle warmth of the arachnid confronted the calculating coldness of the tamer.

"I can show you more..." she said. "When you’re ready to listen, and not just react."