CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER 58: A WARNING FROM SOMEONE WHO NO LONGER EXISTS

Under the dense shadows of the trees, everyone was still in a state of severe confusion.

And after hearing what Oliver said, all eyes turned toward him at the exact same moment.

But he wasn’t paying attention to any of them.

He was still chasing Aria with a flood of questions, stepping forward then backwards, waving his hands while trying every possible way to drag an answer out of her, while she acted as if he didn’t exist.

Despite the initial shock, it didn’t take them long to begin absorbing the idea.

They had seen the masked man face the Great Autumn Spirit alone and force it to retreat.

Inside, the idea that he could kill another mythical creature of lesser rank than the Great Autumn Spirit felt possible.

It wasn’t comforting or reassuring, but it was somewhat logical.

At the edge of the group, Allen had sat down against the trunk of a tree, breathing deeply, as if trying to organize the chaos in his mind.

Beside him, Maron was lying on the ground, staring up at the sky through the branches, hands behind his head, as if trying to ignore everything around him.

Allen spoke in a low voice,

"Can you understand anything from what happened in the village up until now? I feel like I’m still inside a nightmare that won’t end."

Maron turned his head, then exhaled,

"I’m exactly like you. But we don’t have a choice other than to keep going. Stopping won’t change anything."

Allen ran a hand through his hair.

"What do you think happened to the Great Autumn Spirit? Why did it turn into that shape?"

"No point in analyzing any of this. Your head will explode with no result. You have no way to know the reason behind everything that happened in the first place."

"Yes, but I have a lot of suspicions. Ever since that masked man appeared, everything has been falling apart. The village, the Autumn Spirit, that strange city... everything started with him."

Maron turned to him, looking with his one exposed eye while the other was covered with bandages.

"Don’t tell me you still think he’s behind what happened."

"And do you have another explanation? He appeared out of nowhere. Then disasters follow. That’s not normal."

"In that case, why did he help us escape the village? Why risk his life for us? And why fight the Autumn Spirit in the first place? You’re being overly paranoid."

Allen looked down.

"When we all die little by little, you’ll see I was right."

"If we do die little by little, then I won’t see anything because I’ll be dead. Think about that."

"Why are you acting so cold? The old man died because of that masked man!"

Maron shook his head.

"No. He died because he ignored his warnings. The old man chose to act stupidly. Don’t dump that on someone else."

Allen pressed his lips together.

"If he explained things more clearly, this wouldn’t have happened."

A short silence followed, then Maron raised his hand and brushed it over the bandages covering his other eye, then turned to Allen again.

"Maybe I agree with you on that point. Yes... maybe he didn’t explain enough. But what can we do now? You saw how many monsters live here. You saw that city that messes with the mind. If we go far from him, death is the only result."

Allen exhaled. He already knew Maron was right, and he had nothing he could say to counter that argument.

...

Morning light had begun to slowly slip over the forest.

The first strands of sunlight pierced through the tall canopy, and the pale golden glow reflected across the face of the masked man lying on the ground with his arms stretched out.

He hadn’t slept except from sheer exhaustion after everything that happened.

He opened his eye sharply, and the first thing he did was look at his hand.

He lifted it slowly in front of his face, his fingers trembling slightly.

Just last night, gray mist had been pouring out of it nonstop.

His expression tensed, his pupil widening for a moment.

His mind instantly returned to the words of Orion, or that mythical creature who had become him, that voice that hadn’t left him even after its death.

"I will rest now, but will you? If you continue what you intend to do? Are you sure this is the right path?"

He remembered himself standing before Orion, gun aimed at its head, finger tight on the trigger.

"I know what I must do, and I don’t want advice from an evil creature like you. Your kind is a danger to everyone."

Orion didn’t argue. It simply shifted into the appearance of the prince.

"What I see in your memories doesn’t say that what you’re doing will lead to a better outcome. But the choice is yours in the end, Mythical Creatures Hunter."

He remembered how his chest tightened at those words, how he pulled the trigger without hesitation, and how he felt no mercy toward that creature.

Now, in this morning, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on his face for a moment, then stood up quickly.

He raised his hand again in front of his face.

This time, his entire palm dissolved into gray mist twisting in the air.

He reshaped the hand again, its fingers trembling while his eye flashed with a quick purple gleam.

And when his palm returned to its normal form, he dropped to his knees, placing his hand over his eye.

He took a deep breath, then lay down again and stared at the sky.

"Looks like I’ll need more time to adapt to this magic."

Above him the sky was clear, calm blue with white clouds.

He stayed like that for a moment, unmoving, simply watching the light through the leaves.

Then he heard soft breathing beside him, making him turn his head.

There was Tell, asleep close to him, wings wrapped around her body, her chest rising and falling steadily.

His eyes narrowed behind the mask immediately.

He didn’t like the idea that she had slept near him. He didn’t like anyone being close to him while he slept.

He moved carefully and stepped away, one step, then another, until he put a comfortable distance between them.

He glanced back at the sky again without saying anything, though inside him was a storm of thoughts not visible on his face.

...

Morning light was still spread across the forest, golden rays slipping through the tall branches, drawing lines on the ground.

The rest of the group was deep asleep, exhausted from leaving the dreamlike city they had escaped yesterday.

Only Oliver and the sage were awake, sitting near each other, while a few steps ahead Aria stood with her arms crossed, looking at Oliver.

Oliver moved his feet rapidly, then turned to the sage.

"When do you think he’ll be back exactly?"

The sage sighed and rested his cheek on his fist as he sat on a slanted tree trunk.

He looked exhausted, but his voice stayed calm.

"How would I know?"

Oliver disliked the answer and asked again.

"Do you think we’re close to the outside world now?"

The sage raised his head a little and stared at him with clear annoyance.

"How would I know?" then gestured toward the forest. "When he returns, ask him. I don’t have a map for this place."

Oliver ignored his annoyance and turned to Aria.

"What does the outside world look like?"

Aria lifted her head and looked at him with zero interest.

"That depends on the place you mean."

"Are there many cities like that one?"

"Many. Bigger and far more advanced."

Oliver scratched his head.

"You’re not just a normal person, so what made you enter this forest?"

She answered quickly.

"Nothing important."

"But you said the masked man is the reason, because of your father’s death, and that you’re being hunted, and at the same time you said you didn’t care about his death at all."

"Yes, I didn’t care, but his death brought me a lot of problems."

"And what exactly are these problems?"

She took a short breath, looked at him, and gave him a brief glare.

"You need to learn when to stop asking questions, kid."

Oliver raised his hands.

"They’re just harmless questions."

"No, they’re not harmless. You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong."

"What’s wrong with questions? I’m just—"

Before he could finish, the sage punched him lightly but painfully in the stomach, then leaned toward him and whispered sharply.

"Oliver, stop talking in this rude tone."

Oliver bent forward, holding his stomach while glaring at the sage.

But before he could reply, a distinct sound came from the forest nearby.

Rustling leaves. Footsteps between the trees.

The sage immediately straightened his posture.

Oliver lifted his head fast. Aria shifted from relaxed to alert.

And from the nearby shadows, the masked man appeared.

His steps were quiet, but his presence alone was enough to silence everyone.

No one spoke. No one dared ask anything, not at first. Aria gave him only brief, sharp glances.