Chương 240: Chapter : 240

Then someone should invent jungle carriages, Ken said. I would invest all of my nonexistent money in that. Naomi dropped back to walk beside him. She did not say anything. She just matched his pace and kept her daggers loose in their sheaths. It was her way of saying I am watching out for you without actually saying it, because Naomi did not do sentiment. She did practical. The jungle grew denser as they moved deeper.

The canopy closed in until only thin shafts of light pierced through, creating pillars of gold in the green darkness. Strange insects hummed around them. Brightly colored birds called from the treetops. Paul stopped at the base of a massive tree wider than the huts back in the village. Carved into the bark above a root archway was a symbol of a deer with a spiral horn, surrounded by rays of sun. The carving was old, worn smooth by centuries of rain and wind, but still clearly visible.

The boundary marker, Paul said, touching the symbol with his fingertips. Beyond this point, the jungle is sacred ground. Do not stray from the path. Do not touch anything unless I say it is safe. And do not make loud noises. The creatures of the deep jungle do not welcome visitors. Understood, Iris said. She looked back at her team with a warning glance. Everyone be respectful. We are guests here. Ken raised his hand. Question. What counts as a loud noise?

Because I have been told that my breathing is above average volume. Just try to be quiet, Naomi said through her teeth. For once in your life. Ken made a zipping motion across his lips. Then he stepped on a branch that snapped like a gunshot. Every bird in a fifty-meter radius took flight. Paul closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. The path beyond the marker was narrow and winding.

Paul moved with the confidence of someone who had walked this trail a thousand times, his feet finding purchase on roots and stones invisible to anyone else. The others followed carefully. After another hour, the sound of rushing water reached their ears. It started as a low rumble and grew steadily louder. The air grew cooler and wetter, and mist drifted between the trees. The path opened onto a wide clearing, and the 13th Unit stopped.

Before them, a massive waterfall cascaded down a cliff face at least a hundred meters tall. The water was crystal clear, catching the sunlight and shattering it into a million tiny rainbows. The pool at the base was wide and deep, churning with white foam near the falls and growing calmer toward the edges, where the water was so clear they could see the bottom ten meters below. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The Sacred Waterfall of the Dimitri, Paul said with pride and reverence. This is where the boundary ends. Beyond the waterfall lies the territory of the Glayin. Only I may enter. How long will you be? Iris asked. I do not know, Paul admitted. The Glayin cannot be summoned or forced. It appears when it chooses, to those it chooses. I will call for it and wait. And if it does not come? Sayma asked, pushing her glasses up. Luna has four days left. We cannot afford to wait indefinitely.

If the Glayin does not come in one day, I will return, Paul said. And you will need another way. But I believe it will come. The Glayin knows you freed my people. The forest spirit does not forget kindness.

The 13th Unit set up camp on a flat stretch of moss-covered rock overlooking the waterfall basin. The mist created a permanent rainbow. Fruit trees grew along the cliff face, heavy with dark purple berries that Rako confirmed were safe. It would have been a paradise if they were not racing against a clock ticking hundreds of miles away. Paul disappeared behind the waterfall. The curtain of water parted for a single second as he stepped through, then closed behind him, leaving no trace.

Laxmi sat on a rock near the water edge and dangled her feet in the pool. The cold water felt wonderful on her bruised shoulder. She watched the fish darting between the rocks and tried not to think about Luna. She is going to be fine, Zinia said, sitting down beside her. Her voice was calm and steady, as always. She has survived worse than this. Has she? Laxmi asked. I do not remember her surviving a Class-S mana poison before. I do not remember any of us facing anything like this. Zinia was quiet for a moment.

Then she put her hand on Laxmi shoulder, a rare gesture from the usually stoic earth warrior. We are doing everything we can. Right now, that means waiting for Paul and hoping the Glayin answers. And if it does not, we will find another way. We always do. Sayma had set up a small workstation on a flat rock, spreading out her copied pages and notes. She was re-reading the Glayin entry for the fourteenth time, looking for any detail she might have missed. Something about the wording bothered her.

The horn possesses extraordinary mana-purification properties. Not contained. Not produced. Possesses. Present tense. As if the horn was still alive, still connected to the Glayin, even after being separated. She made a note in her notebook. Glayin horn retains purification properties post-separation. Hypothesis: the horn is not a passive substance. It is a living magical organ that continues to function independently.

This means it could theoretically be harvested without killing the creature, if the creature chose to give it up voluntarily. But how does a deer give up its horn voluntarily? She tapped her pen against her lips and stared at the waterfall. Somewhere behind that wall of water, Chief Paul was calling out to a mythical creature, and the fate of a sixteen-year-old girl depended on whether that creature decided to answer. Iris sat apart from the group, near the edge of the cliff, looking out over the jungle canopy.

From up here it looked like a green ocean, its depths hiding secrets no surveyor had ever cataloged. Somewhere out there, a glowing deer walked through ancient trees, and the weight of Luna life rested on its shoulders. She thought about Luna back at the estate, lying on her bed with blue veins pulsing under her skin. She thought about Dr. Chiha sitting beside her, pouring mana into the suppression spell, fighting a battle he could not win alone.

She thought about the countdown that was eating away at their time, one hour, one minute, one second at a time. She also thought about the look on Ken face when he walked into the corruption wave. The blank, expressionless mask that had replaced his goofy grin. The way the darkness had parted around him like water around a stone. The single word nobody heard. The golden spirit that had appeared from nowhere and erased three cultists with arrows of light.