CHAPTER 42: PALABLE TENSION.

The sounds of rumbling stones cut through the silence of the night like late-hour war drums.

The multitude of werewolves were being carried like rice on a plate, rolling over ranging stones. Their eyes carried both hunger and anxiety, some stumbling slightly while others still questioned the generosity of a clan they had never met before.

Kelion’s steps were calculated, just like his thrusts—each step followed a rhythm of hand patterns he kept repeating while walking the streets of the elven clan, controlling multiple rocks with unmatched precision.

---

After a few minutes or so, Kelion had transported the werewolves by moving rock. Now, he positioned them at an isolated space closest to the walls, where houses had been deserted because of their closeness to monsters—monsters that were now extinct.

The platform of moving earth stopped just in front of the corner of the wall, the circular stones below dissolving immediately into sand under Kelion’s control.

Then his hands and legs began moving in calculated gestures—not dancing, but manipulating.

The earth flanking the werewolves began rising as if growing from the ground, extending high until it reached the same height as the clan’s circular walls.

Kelion stomped one foot hard on the floor, as if attempting a ranging step forward, his eyes glinting with purpose.

The space in front of them was suddenly covered by earth of equal height, sprouting swiftly out of the floor, leaving the werewolves about five hundred yards of enclosed land with a door-sized opening in front.

The walls weren’t normal stone. They were infused with Kelion’s aura, amplified by the centralized moonlight, with the special ability to regenerate even the slightest scratch.

Kelion exhaled a sharp, deep breath as he entered his own crafting.

"Attention..." he exclaimed, drawing all eyes to him. "I am Kelion, king of the soil you stand on, so I expect no disrespect from you foreigners—nor harm laid on the people here. You are carnivorous, I know, and you will eat only the flesh we provide for you..."

He paused, scanning the area as if to etch his words into their minds. "The space is enough for three to one hut, which will be provided over time."

Kelion’s heartbeat tensed—not from fear of the risk of keeping carnivorous beings, but from the fear of providing for them.

These hundreds of lives... he thought. They are all in my hands.

---

Elsewhere

Natasha, Elara, and Tasha walked tiredly into the compound of the Water Healing Clan, where nature seemed to embrace them softly.

The cold wind blowing over the subtle stream sent chills into their skin—the perfect temptation for a tired body to fall asleep.

"She’s unmistakably here... look at the burns in the grasses," Natasha murmured, pointing to the ground while rubbing her eyes, her body bent in weariness.

"Mmm..." Elara replied with an unconscious hum, bumping into Tasha with dizzy eyes.

"How much longer?" Tasha whispered, equally exhausted, her eyes cracked with red veins, nearly dried by the freezing wind.

"We’re almost there," Natasha murmured as they held each other by the shoulder for support, pressing on with lazy steps.

Slowly but surely, they entered the wooden building where the Water Healing Clan resided.

"Look," Tasha said, pointing at a sleeping elf.

At the reception, the female elven secretary was asleep on her chair, mouth open.

"She’s in heaven," Elara muttered with glinting eyes, almost surrendering to her own weight, but Natasha’s determined grip on her shoulder kept her standing.

"Let’s just make sure Amaterasu and the rest are okay, then we—" Her words faded as sleep began to claim her, though slight consciousness returned when gravity threatened to pull her down.

"This way..." Natasha whispered as they turned a corner toward an open door that led to a hallway, doors flanking both sides.

A soft voice echoed from behind one of the doors, saying, "It’s nothing serious, they will be fine."

Natasha, Elara, and Tasha immediately became alert, though their eyes barely widened from fatigue.

"Just a bit more," Natasha encouraged, opening the door from which she had heard the consoling voice.

For a few seconds, they stood in the doorway, trying to make out the details of the room through their blurry vision.

Cealen lay on a white linen bed, engulfed in water that was being manipulated by Fina, the most talented water healing manipulator, slowly mending the wounds and bruises on his skin.

In the far right corner of the room, Amaterasu sat with her hands cradling her face, bitterness etched into the pained sobs escaping her lips.

"What happened? Where’s Lord Allen and Garric?" Natasha asked, the heat and tension in the room pushing away some of her fatigue, replacing it with dread.

"What’s wrong?" Tasha whispered, brushing her hands against her eyes. "I can barely see anything."

"Why’s Cealen so bruised?" Elara murmured, moving desperately toward the bed—but Amaterasu immediately halted her mid-step.

"Not even a step forward," she roared, standing furiously, her face tilted with both anger and bitterness. "Don’t even dare call his name..."

Seconds of silence bathed the room as Elara and Natasha exchanged glances. Even Fina seemed to shrink downwards, as if trying to hide from the raging elder while keeping her water manipulation steady.

"Where’s Garric and Lord—" Natasha began, but Amaterasu cut her off sharply.

"Allen... right. Always Allen and Allen again. Why didn’t you just ask for him directly rather than calling Garric’s name like you care?"

"Calm down, Amaterasu—"

"Calm what?" Amaterasu snapped, shooting a dangerous glare at Elara.

"What’s gotten into you?" Natasha protested. "We do care."

"SHUT UP," Amaterasu ordered, waving her hand in a furious arc, steam already rising from her body. "What did you do when Maxen died? Nothing. You just stayed indoors with the same Allen who still had breath in him—and now you stand in front of me calling that care?"

"I did—"

"Get out!" Amaterasu barked, taking a furious step forward, her eyes glinting with menace.

Natasha and Elara stared at each other in confusion while Tasha barely stirred from her sleep.

"But—" Elara tried to speak but met the same fate as Natasha.

No more words—just the silent glare between them as they left the room, even the raging bark of Amaterasu scaring away the sleep that had weighed so heavily on them.

Protesting would only cause more chaos, and when it came to Amaterasu, it was like fighting flames with the wrong weapon—protest.

With that understanding, they simply walked out, taking the barely awakened Tasha with them.

Just as they closed the door, Allen walked into the hallway, his face even more burdened than Amaterasu’s.

"Lord Allen," Natasha said, joy mixed with exhaustion in her voice.

"Is that Allen...?" Tasha whispered faintly, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"Where are the elders?" Allen’s voice cut through the moment, laced with seriousness, leaving no room for playful tones.

"Amaterasu and Cealen are here, but we haven’t seen Garric," Elara replied, matching his serious tone.

"Then he’s in another of these rooms," Allen said, walking past them with heavy, purposeful steps. He opened the door they had just left, the sound of its hinges marking the return of tension in the room.

"Which room is Garric? Bring him in," he said with a smirk as both Fina and Amaterasu turned their gaze toward him.

"What do you want?" Amaterasu asked immediately, less furious than before but more sober.

"Get me Garric," Allen requested, his voice edged with authority.

Fina’s heartbeat tensed as her gaze bounced between Allen and Amaterasu—two elders, each equally commanding.

"But I can’t—"

"Bring. Garric." Allen repeated, his emphasis sending chills down her spine.

"Yes, Elder Allen," Fina murmured, bowing her head to avoid Amaterasu’s glare before dashing out of the room.

Amaterasu studied Allen silently, doubting if her earlier actions had been right.

"She was healing his wounds. Or are you somehow better than her?" she asked quietly, mindful that she was still speaking to another elder.

"Right now, we can’t have any elder with healing wounds."

"And since when did that matter?" Amaterasu murmured.

"Ever since I became one of you," Allen replied as the sound of running feet echoed into the room.

A group of elves carried Garric in on a rolling hospital bed, placing him next to Cealen.

"I’ll take it from here," Allen smirked as the assistants were dismissed, Fina standing behind him with curiosity about whatever he had in mind.

"UNDO," Allen whispered, sending specific commands to his system through thought.

[Activating Level 2 Lower Cursed Word]

[Target: Time on Cealen’s and Garric’s body]

[Duration: Backwards until you say stop]

Then it began... the power of a Deity shone forth.

Time shifted, dragging Garric and Caelen’s bodies backwards through their injuries. First, the wounds and bruises swelled, looking fresher, as if newly inflicted.

"Allen... stop!" Amaterasu roared, standing in terror as she closed in on Allen with cautious steps.

"What are you—" Fina rasped from behind, her voice shaking to the core. Natasha and Elara burst in through the door, chaos ringing like a bell inside the room.

Just as stead as the wounds widened, they did not remain—they vanished one by one. Even the energy drained from their cells during the hours of battle in the Goblin Clan was restored, along with their clarity of mind.

The room tensed, the air thick with an even more striking shock.

"What—" Amaterasu rasped, eyes glistened with tears, her body trembling as she straddled Allen, having just slammed him to the floor in rage. But her gaze was fixed, unblinking, on one thing—Caelen’s vanishing wounds. No glow, no sounds just time reversing.

A sharp, restorative gasp sliced through the silence. Eyelids fluttered open.

"Stop" Allen declared.