Chương 21: Vol. 1 - Briarwoods

The moment I was pushed in, the world shattered. A deafening roar filled my ears as light and wind consumed everything. My body twisted, pulled in every direction at once, as though the portal itself was trying to rip me from existence—to erase every trace that I was ever there. There was no sense of up or down. No breath, no heartbeat. Only the blinding rush of raw magic tearing through me, and the faint, fading echo of Yukihime's voice—soft, trembling, carried away by the storm of light. Then, silence.

The colours of the world slowly bled back into existence—green, blue, gold—blurring and sharpening until I realised I was lying on soft grass beneath a pale sky. A breeze brushed my cheek, carrying the scent of earth and flowers, but it felt hollow. The world felt too quiet, as if mourning with me. I sat there for a long time, staring blankly into the distance, until I could no longer cry. My tears had dried, but the ache in my chest only grew heavier.

"She's gone… she's gone…" The words slipped out before I could stop them. Gone. I'll never see her again. That thought alone was enough to break whatever fragile composure I had left. I pressed my back against a tree and pulled my knees close to my chest, my body trembling as I choked out soundless sobs. No tears came—just the hollow gasps of someone who'd already cried too much.

I remembered the months we'd spent together—her patient voice correcting my stance, her warm laughter when I stumbled, the way she'd pretend to scold me before handing me that honeycomb fruit with a soft smile. She'd trained me, fed me, and cared for me like I was her own grandchild. And yet… I had always been cautious of her. Always holding back. Only now did I realise how much I'd taken her presence for granted. Guilt struck me like a blade.

In her last moments, I finally saw her for who she was—not the powerful guardian I'd admired from afar, but the grandmother I never knew I needed. She had given me warmth in a world that felt colder than I could bear, and I repaid her with distance. My spine still throbbed from the fall—just like before. But this time, Yukihime wasn't here to help me up, to tease me gently, or to offer that golden honeycomb fruit with a faint chuckle. Only the wind answered me now, whispering through the leaves above.

And for the first time since I arrived in this world… I felt truly, completely alone. My weary mind sought the mercy of sleep to dull the ache inside me. I curled up where I'd landed, but a sudden stab of pain ripped through me, forcing my eyes open once more. Then, a burning sensation spread out from my astral core, filling my body with warmth. A familiar voice echoed out, "Ahem… testing… testing… Ah, good!"

"Yukihime? Where are you?" I blurted out." Ah, my dear child, if you're seeing this recording, you've most likely seen my final form. Mm, yeah. I know you must have dearly missed your beautiful goddess by now, but it's time we part ways. In this lifetime, I will only be a burden to you."

"Noooo! You'll never be a burden to me! Just come with me!" I begged. But alas, there was little I could do to persuade a recording." Knowing you, you are nowhere near ready to learn the whole truth. You would most likely brainlessly fight a hopeless battle against that creature. Kawa, you are merely the age of 6, however, upon gazing at your astral core, I have yet to be amazed by your Light Orange core. You have indeed a rare talent, powerful child. Although I am no longer with you, I will leave you with this.

Earlier, I infused with you my unique legacy, may that remind you of my presence." Was that why the gold imprints vanished from her body?" Right now, you are the most compatible person I can find to give my legacy to temporarily. But you are still not quite suitable for it and might die due to prolonged usage. No worries. I will help you find another host." She chuckled.

"And lastly, you will hear from me once more when your astral core reaches a level past gold. Everything will be explained by me, but I reckon you will know even before then. From there on, what you do next is your choice." There's a stage after gold?" Child, I know your heart is drowning in grief right now. But no matter how deep the pain runs, never let vengeance take root within you. Use the gifts you've been given—to destroy or to heal—to bring light to mankind or its downfall, the choice is yours.

You may choose to chase that creature to the ends of the earth, or you may wait patiently until the strength within you blossoms. The choice will always be yours. I understand the sorrow that weighs on you… but remember, you still have a family waiting for you—and the stone I entrusted to your care. My only wish is that you live with the same warmth and wonder of your childhood, train diligently, and make your parents… and me… proud. Do not let hatred consume you.

Taking the lives of those responsible for mine will not bring me back, nor will it soothe your heart. There is purpose in all things, even in loss—and I hold no regret for the path that led us here. So this is where we part, for now. Protect your family. Guard the stone. Study what I've left behind. And above all… live, Alistair Sinclaire. Live a life you can truly call your own."

"..." A name from my past. Had she known this entire time? Did she search my memories? Did she find something unusual about my astral core? Questions flooded my mind as I stayed glued to the same spot. The only one who could answer my questions was gone. She was right about one thing, though, if I had known her killer, I would have immedietely chased him to the ends of the earth for revenge. And if she truly knew my past life, I could not afford to make the same fatal mistake. I want to be strong.

I want to make Yukihime proud. I want to reach out to my family. I want to live a life without regret. But before I could do all that… I needed to know—"Where the hell am I?" The words slipped out into the silence, swallowed almost instantly by the air around me. A faint chill brushed against my cheek. I turned slowly, eyes darting through the haze that hung between the trees. The world was unnaturally still — no wind, no birds, not even the rustle of leaves.

Just an ocean of mist, glimmering faintly with motes of pale light that drifted like dying stars. I took a cautious step forward. The ground was soft, carpeted in dark moss and roots that pulsed faintly beneath my boots, as if the forest itself were alive… breathing. Dense trees surrounded me — their trunks were black and scarred, their branches curling inward like claws reaching for the sky. Thin strands of thorned vines draped from above, their tips glowing faintly crimson.

It was both beautiful and terrifying, a place untouched by time, where the air reeked faintly of rain and iron. Then, through the fog, I caught a glimpse of movement — a flicker of violet light vanishing behind the trees. My pulse quickened. Something about this place stirred a faint memory, something whispered in the depths of my soul, a name I had read once in a book older than I could remember. My voice came out low, uncertain.

"The… Briarwoods." The name lingered in the air like a curse, and for a brief moment, the entire forest seemed to exhale — the mist shifting, the ground groaning softly beneath me. A faint hum echoed in my core, my Astralis stirring in response to the unnatural mana in the air. I clenched my fists, steadying my breath. Whatever this place was, it wasn't kind — and it wasn't safe. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

But Yukihime's words echoed in my mind once more, calm and resolute." To bring light to mankind or its downfall, the choice is yours." I straightened my back, eyes glinting faintly with resolve.

"Alright," I murmured to the forest, "let's see what kind of world you've dropped me into." I used the astralis rotation method Yukihime taught me to replenish my astralis. The only downside to it was that you needed to focus really hard.

"Moonlight Walk," I whispered, invoking the spell. A faint shimmer of silver light wrapped around me, and I rose gently into the air, gliding through the Briarwoods with silent grace. I climbed onto a few branches. Even with the fog slightly restricting my vision, one thing was for sure: I was deeply entrenched in the Briarwoods. Yukihime said that she teleported me somewhere near humans, but wherever I looked… I didn't seem to find any.

"Hey!!!" That— That sounded like a human. My heart slammed against my ribs, a raw drumbeat cutting through the fog of exhaustion. Hope flickered — small, stubborn — and I grabbed at it like a drowning man reaching for a rope. I drew the last of my astralis into my limbs; silver light licked the soles of my feet, and the world around me shivered. I sprinted toward the sound. The trees became a blur of black trunks and silver streaks; moonlight and mist braided through my hair.

Branches lashed at my arms and cloak, tearing at fabric, scattering beads of dew that flashed like shards of glass. The Briarwoods closed in around me, a living thing intent on swallowing the unwary. Roots snagged my boots. Thorns grazed my calves. I barely felt them. The voice — different, terrified — pulled me onward with a force stronger than pain. I vaulted, using a trunk as a springboard, and skimmed along the side of the trees as if the forest had become a ladder of moonbeams beneath my feet.

Cold air bit my face; adrenaline sharpened every sense into a knife-edge.

"Mama… papa…" the voice sobbed, thin and distant. Something about it was wrong — not just the fear, but the way it creaked like someone trying to keep from breaking. The hairs along my arms stood up. I slowed, melting into the shadow of a thick-barked oak, and listened.

"Shut her up!!!" A sharp slap cracked through the dark. I flinched as if it had struck me. My breath hitched. Through a break in the undergrowth, I saw them: four men surrounding something small and huddled on the ground. They crowded close, coarse laughter spitting into the night air. One swung a lantern; the light painted their faces in sickly amber — leering, greedy. Another brandished a rope, the frayed end stained.

"Hurry up!" one snapped.

"We don't have all night. Move it before daylight."

"Get her in the carriage," another said.

"There's a market a few miles down. We'll get a good sum — strong hands, someone to work. That's money in the pouch, boss." Slave traders. The words hit me like a blow. My jaw tightened until my teeth ground. I could smell sweat, old leather, the river-sour stench of men used to trading in lives. My palms went slick on the rough bark. A deeper, colder voice — the leader — stepped forward, licking his lips with a vile grin.

"A pretty one'll fetch a nice price," he said, eyes shadowed by the lantern.

"We're set." Slave Traders. My stomach dropped. Rage bloomed, hot and fierce, burning away the last fog of weariness. I slid my fingers into the grooves of the tree, feeling the sap sticky under my nails, and pulled myself closer, closer to the clearing. The forest seemed to hush, as if holding its breath with me. The huddled shape — smaller than I expected — trembled. The hand that peeked out was thin; dirt blackened the knuckles. Fear made its shoulders curl inward like a fragile shell. They had bound her arms.

They were about to carry her off. Something in me snapped. A low, quiet sound built in my chest — not a shout, not yet, but a promise. The silver light under my feet pulsed, coalescing into a blade-edge of astralis at my side. I tasted iron on my tongue and the world narrowed to the four men and the single fragile life they held. But on the other hand — what should I do? I couldn't let impulse drag me back into the same mistakes. Acting without a plan had killed people once already. I had to be smarter than that.

The Briarwoods swallowed sound. Fog wreathed the trunks in loamy grey; a wrong turn would strand any Celestian for days. From what I could see, only someone who knew how the mist curled would find their way out again. Then I saw them. They weren't alone. A hulking, snarling mass of lupines ringed the clearing — eyes like coals, fur matted with bramble and mud.

And above them loomed one such beast bigger and darker than the rest: the Lupine Crown, a wolf among wolves, ribs broad and muscle coiled like springs — a living king. The pack moved with predatory discipline, lips pulled back in hungry grins that glinted in lantern light. The traders had brought monsters as muscle. Options stacked like knives in my head. Steal the Lupine Crown and vanish with the girl? Leave her to be sold, live to fight another day? Or charge in and try to cut the problem down here and now?

Killing every one of them outright was reckless — four men and a feral pack, in terrain that favored ambush. But the thought of her being dragged off to some market — to be owned and traded like livestock — made bile climb my throat. There was no "nice, fat, rich man" rescue fantasy waiting at the end of that road. Not here. I would not be cold-hearted. I would be cunning. I melted into shadow and followed them at a distance, letting the fog and trees hide my tracks.

I waited until night pinched the light down to a sliver and the men relaxed into careless murmurs. They'd already underestimated the forest; they'd underestimated me. I counted heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Then I let go. Astralis exploded outward — not in a roar, but in a whisper of silver that scattered through the underbrush like shaken dust. The moonlight seemed to listen and reply; my voice folded into it. I did not charge them in a straight line. I became the forest's trick.

First, a flutter of movement to the far left: a small, bright flicker that looked like a fox's tail. I snapped a branch and sent a scattering of dry leaves tumbling toward the sound. One trader lurched, lantern bobbing; his attention was dragged like iron to the noise. He cursed and crept toward the distraction, boots soft on the damp soil. I flowed with him. From the trees I dropped, silent as a falling petal, and planted a foot against his back. The world narrowed to cold leather and a neck too close.

My hand closed at the base of his skull, and I twisted. The snap was bone-quick and merciless; he didn't even have time to shout. I let him fall face-first into leaf litter, breath leaving him in a small, ragged gasp. Then I slid back into the shadows and watched the others search for whatever had taken him. Two down, three to go. The second man was the loud one — the one who barked orders and laughed too long.

I baited him with a shimmer: a sliver of silver light dancing across the opposite treeline, like moon hitting water. He couldn't help himself; greed for the shine made his eyes slack. He moved to cut off the glimmer, stamping through a curtain of thorned vines I'd loosened earlier. I met him there." O verdant thorns that heed my call—bind and break all who defy the stars, 「Verdant Bind」!" The vines came alive at my will, coiling around his shins and pulling him face-first into a tangle.

He swore and scraped at his bindings, blade flashing. I leapt down from above, boots crushing his ribs as I pushed the wind from his lungs. His knife sang a futile arc; iron bit air as I ducked beneath it and slammed the flat of my palm into his chest. The air left him with a sound like collapsing curtains. He gurgled, eyes wide and panicked, and then went still. I then mercilessly took his knife and imbued it with my astralis. One by one, I shredded their confidence. The leader, the worst of the lot, was smarter.

He barked orders and tried to herd the pack, lifting his lantern high. I used that. I let a sliver of moonlight coil into the shadows near the Lupine Crown — a pale, trembling wisp shaped like movement. The Lupine Crown's head turned, nostrils flaring. The leader shouted and slammed his palm against his thigh, whistling for control. That was my cue.

I drew the leader's attention with a well-placed, painful sound — the cry of a trapped animal somewhere deep in the brush, made by bending sound-waves around a rotten log. He spun and jogged past the carriage, leaving the girl even less guarded. He hadn't seen me slipping behind a tangle of roots. I targeted them in the dark, not in the open. I struck from angles that broke their line of sight and their will.

When a man reached for a blade, nails and branches tore at his hands; when another tried to flee, a rope I'd thrown up earlier snapped taut, yanking him off his feet. I fought like someone who had nothing left to waste: precise, cold, and swift. Astralis braided with a knife — each strike a flash of silver that left men crumpled, groaning, or unconscious. The lupines, riled by the sudden turbulence, lunged and barked. One slammed into me, teeth flashing like knives.

I rolled under it, feeling hot breath and the tug of fang nicking my sleeve. I twisted into a low kick and caught its flank with the heel of my boot; the beast skidded, surprised, and the pack hesitated. They were powerful, but not clever of hand; they were predators trained to take advantage of chaos, not to think and plan like men. The leader circled, chest heaving, lantern trembling in his fist. He had no stomach for a fair fight anymore. His face was tight with fear, eyes calculating escape routes.

I used that fear.

"O light that silvers the dark—pierce all in your path, 「Moonlight Lance」." A bolt of moonlight lanced from my palm and smacked the lantern into his hand; it toppled and shattered. Without his beacon, the pack's coordinated howls became confused barks. In the falling darkness, I pressed the attack. I moved like a shadow on the prowl. One man rose groggily to his knees, and I stabbed his sword arm with the tip of my blade — not to gore him, but to break grip and will. Wood popped; the weapon sailed into the fog.

Another reached for the girl with raw desperation; I slammed my knife into his chest and sent him skidding into a root-bark tree, where he lay hissing and stunned. The leader lunged finally, blade bright. We met in a shower of rasping blows; steel rang against astral-hardened parries. He was strong, fueled by fear and greed, but I was faster, and each strike I gave was measured.

The final exchange was a blur — a spinning slash that opened his side, a block that cracked the leader's forearm, a last, clean cut across the back of his knee that toppled him into the dirt. He made a last, choking sound and then the forest took it. Silence fell heavy as wet cloth. When the dust settled, the clearing was cold and still. Four men lay dead, a tableau of their greed. My boots left wet prints in the loam; my breathing was loud in the hush. I approached the carriage. She was so small. Too still.

Her body was swathed in an oversized, tattered cloak — one that looked more like a ragged curtain than clothing. My chest tightened as I knelt beside her, brushing aside the dirt and leaves clinging to the fabric.

"It's alright," I said softly.

"You're safe now." No response. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest. Carefully, I reached out and pulled back the heavy cloth. And froze. Beneath the folds of grime-streaked fabric, silken white hair caught the moonlight — impossibly soft, gleaming with a faint bluish tint. A pair of fox ears twitched ever so slightly atop her head, and a long, snowy tail peeked out from behind her, curling instinctively as if to shield her from the cold. My breath caught.

"A… beastman?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. But not just any. The white fox — a race so rare that even in old Celestian myths, they were said to appear only when the moon itself wept for the world. Her face was delicate, almost ethereal, framed by strands of silver-white hair streaked faintly with pale gold. Dirt smudged her cheeks, and her small hands were scraped raw from rope burns. Yet, despite it all, she looked… divine. For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

In the moonlight, she didn't look like a prisoner — she looked like a spirit fallen from the heavens, wrapped in pain and silence. I swallowed hard, my mind struggling to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

"What… what in the world happened to you?" I murmured. Her ears twitched faintly at my voice. Then, as if she'd heard the gentleness buried beneath it, she shifted — curling closer, her tail brushing against my arm. And just like that, the rage that had fueled me moments before melted into something quieter. Something that felt dangerously close to tenderness. She didn't speak at first, only shook in small, ragged breaths.

Then she looked up, and recognition — maybe only of a rescuer, maybe of something kinder — flickered and steadied into wariness. I cut the ropes with a flick of astralis, silver thread unspooling like silk. Her wrists went slack; she hugged her arms to her chest as if protecting what little remained of herself.