Kiaria stepped forward as if Princess's words never reached him.
The wooden arch of Rulii Chop Land rose quietly before them–two curved trunks bent toward each other, their bark polished smooth by time and wind. Three small woodpeckers perched on the upper beam, their bodies still as carved ornaments, their eyes sharp and unblinking.
"Three…" Diala murmured. "We are three too. Don't you think that count feels deliberate?"
Princess was about to reply casually when Kiaria laughed. "Relax. They're only illusory products."
Both girls turned toward him in disbelief.
"Look how scared you two became," he added lightly.
Princess's embarrassment flashed into mock fury. "Little brat. Do you have any idea how dangerous your vision skill is when peeking into a girl's reactions?"
She leaned closer, voice low and dangerous. "If you dare pry into my expressions again, I'll gouge out your eyes. I'm serious."
Then her lips curved faintly. "And don't forget–whatever I do to you here, you won't die in the real world. Only Diala will witness it."
Kiaria instantly darted behind Diala. "Dia, save me. I'm terrified."
A second later, he straightened and smirked. "Huh? Big Sister, come on. Try me."
"You little–!"
Princess lunged.
But from the front, a small warm hand pinched sharply into Kiaria's waist.
"Not Big Sister," Diala said with innocent fury. "I'm the real danger here."
"Aaah–!"
Kiaria leaped away in pain. "You too?! Since when did this alliance form?"
Then he laughed helplessly. "Fine. I surrender. I will personally stand in front during your marriage preparations. No filters, no escape."
Both girls chased him instantly.
Kiaria ran straight into Rulii Chop Land.
For a few moments, fear didn't exist. Only laughter, shouting, light footsteps pounding against ancient soil. They forgot where they were. Forgot beasts. Forgot danger. Forgot shadow.
Kiaria suddenly stopped. "That's enough. I can hear your breathing from here."
Princess crossed her arms, pretending calm while panting badly. "Come here, Kiaria."
Diala smiled sweetly. Too sweet. "Kia, come closer."
He paled. "That face… that's a trap."
But ignoring was also a trap.
He stepped forward.
Moments later–
Two satisfied faces stared at him.
His robe was crooked. The crown tilted sideways. The crescent-loop nimbus rings were misaligned, one rotated backwards. Even his collar had been folded wrong.
They burst into laughter.
They reached up and fixed everything neatly. Straightened his crown. Realigned the nimbus rings gently.
Then both exchanged a look–silent, conspiratorial.
A solid shove struck his back.
"Move forward, PATRON."
Kiaria couldn't cry. Couldn't scream. He just endured with tragic dignity and walked ahead.
The land changed beneath his feet.
Tree stumps filled the view–short, tall, wide, narrow. Each stump bore faint carved letters:
Rulii Chop Land.
He slowed.
His mind recited Beast Mastery circulation unconsciously.
Each step he placed released a soft vibration through the earth–too subtle for humans, but clear as a drumbeat to beasts.
Far above, twenty-five woodpeckers slept with their beaks pierced into bark, bodies hanging motionless as if dead. Their long inner tongues trembled faintly as they sensed the rhythm of his steps.
Not danger.
Not threat.
A tamer.
The vibrations shifted again–calmer, broader.
Do not interfere. Protect if danger arises.
The birds settled.
Diala suddenly slowed.
Her eyes moved across the stumps.
Memory quietly folded over her vision.
Her father.
Axes.
Wood.
Dust.
She remembered writing his name on every stump with childish pride. Marking territories with crooked portraits of their bodies–hers always too small, his always too tall.
She remembered laughter.
Sweat.
Woodchips flying everywhere as he chopped.
But this time, she didn't cry.
Instead, she turned to Princess shyly. "Big Sister… do you happen to have a calligraphy brush?"
Princess blinked. "A brush?"
Then laughed. "…Yes."
"Hehe… can I borrow it for a few minutes? I promise I won't damage it."
Princess handed it over with narrowed suspicion.
"Thank you, Sister," Diala said brightly.
Kiaria didn't dare look at them. "It was my mistake bringing two girls together…"
Princess pinched his ear.
Diala threw a pebble.
The throw was a little too serious.
It struck his knee.
The pain flared sharp.
High above, the woodpeckers opened their eyes.
Wind fluttered.
Their wings stirred.
Kiaria shifted his step instantly–three precise pulses of vibration.
Calm returned.
The birds settled again.
His knee healed before either girl noticed.
Diala crouched in front of a wide stump and began drawing.
Princess watched in silence.
Lines formed quickly.
Sure.
Precise.
Kiaria's figure rose in the center.
Princess on one side.
Diala on the other.
Princess stared, lips parting slightly. "Little one… your hands are dangerous."
Then she smirked. "All the best, boy. Your future wife will never be free."
Kiaria smiled faintly–but his heart tightened.
If this disappears after the illusion ends… her effort will vanish.
Quietly, he summoned Uskilen in his consciousness.
"Elder… can this be preserved?"
"Yes. Reflect it through the Spiritual Spring. Seal the reflection. Drop one droplet into the stump."
He did exactly that–silently.
Diala ran away laughing, counting stumps aloud.
"Sixty-six!"
Her voice echoed with strange nostalgia.
Kiaria sat on a stump.
His thoughts darkened.
Cemetery Island…
Meteor showers…
Unseen things awakening after catastrophe…
Diala returned. "Sixty-six stumps. Six big. Seventeen medium. The rest small."
He looked up blankly. "Pardon?"
She stared.
Then repeated the exact count–just as she once did with her father.
He still didn't catch it properly.
She crossed her arms. "Go. Count yourself."
He did.
Returned breathlessly. "Sixty-six. And two more."
She blinked. "Two?"
"You and Big Sister."
She laughed softly.
Then stepped closer.
"Tell me, Kia… what's making you heavy right now?"
The forest hushed.
"We'll leave soon," he said quietly. "This world has no sunrise… no sunset. Time is uncertain. And I… I have something important to speak openly someday."
Diala studied him.
Then nodded.
"Understood. Then let's move forward."
Three shadows walked deeper between the stumps.
Behind them, the carved portrait shimmered faintly in unseen reflection.
And above, twenty-five woodpeckers slept once more–watching over an unspoken bond forming beneath ancient trees.
Kiaria led them deeper into Rulii Chop Land.
With every step forward, the air grew softer, richer with the scent of aged wood and resin. The tree stumps slowly gave way to something far stranger–wooden sculptures.
They were everywhere.
Figures carved directly from living trunks and fallen logs–beasts mid-leap, hunters frozen in pursuit, children laughing while chasing invisible birds. Some sculptures were rough and weather-eaten, others so finely detailed that veins could be seen beneath carved skin. Entire houses had been shaped from single trees, their doors curved naturally from bark, windows hollowed like gentle eye sockets. Paths were layered with wooden tiles fitted without nails, joined only by perfect cuts and time.
Princess slowed her steps unconsciously. "…This place was alive once."
Diala walked ahead in silence. Her fingertips brushed lightly against a carved railing, tracing the grain as if listening to a heartbeat long gone. Every structure here carried warmth–not the warmth of people, but the memory of people.
Farther in, they saw it.
A thick branch extended from a massive tree like an arm reaching out. From it hung an old wooden swing seat, tied by braided vine ropes. The seat was smoothed by countless small hands. Beneath it, the ground was worn in a shallow curve from years of pushing and landing.
Diala stopped.
Her eyes didn't shine with sorrow.
They shone with something gentler.
"…Can I?" she asked quietly.
Princess glanced at Kiaria first, then smirked. "If you refuse now, you'll be a heartless criminal."
Kiaria sighed. "Go. But don't break it."
Diala's face lit up.
She climbed onto the seat carefully, testing its strength with one push… then another.
The swing moved.
Slowly at first.
Then higher.
Her laughter rang softly through the wooden land–clear, light, unguarded.
For a moment, the forest felt young again.
Kiaria leaned against a carved pillar, arms crossed. Princess stood beside him, watching Diala fly back and forth under drifting leaves and fading sunlight.
"You notice it?" Princess muttered.
"What?"
"She doesn't laugh like this anywhere else."
Kiaria didn't answer.
Diala swung once more, higher this time–and for just a second, she stretched her arms wide as if she could touch the sky.
When she finally jumped down, her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.
"I'm done," she said softly. "Let's go."
They walked again.
The structures slowly faded into scattered carvings, then into natural forest once more. The trees here stood taller and thicker. The ground softened with layers of leaf-fall. The air pulsed faintly–alive, awake, listening.
"This is the core region," Kiaria said.
Princess felt it too now. "So this is where they sleep."
Kiaria stepped forward.
Three taps of his foot against the soil.
Not loud.
Not violent.
The ground responded like a drumhead struck from far below.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The forest answered.
From every direction, faint ripples of movement passed through bark and leaf. Then–
Flap.
Flap.
Flap.
The first woodpecker appeared, streaking between trunks like a living arrow.
Then another.
Then five.
Then all twenty-five.
They descended into a swirling spiral of wings and flashing beaks, circling above Kiaria like a living vortex. Their feathers shimmered with faint metallic hues. Their eyes gleamed gold and alert.
Diala gasped.
Princess instinctively stepped back.
"They're… fast…"
The circle tightened.
Beaks sliced wind with razor precision.
Princess cursed under her breath. "These aren't birds. These are flying spears."
Kiaria raised one hand calmly. The vibrations from his body shifted instantly.
The flock steadied.
"They recognize you…?" Diala whispered.
"They recognize rhythm," Kiaria corrected. "Not identity."
He turned to both of them.
"From here onward, you two train."
Princess blinked. "…Train? With these?"
"Yes."
Diala stiffened. "Kia… they can pierce trees…"
"They can pierce anything that hesitates," he said quietly.
Then his tone hardened.
"You were both captured once. Easily. Cleanly. Without resistance."
Princess's smile vanished.
Diala lowered her gaze.
"From now on, there is no rest," Kiaria said. "No weapons. No techniques. Only movement. Dodge. Survive. Adapt."
The woodpeckers fluttered lower, circling wider now–watching.
Princess exhaled slowly. "You're serious."
"Yes."
Diala looked at him, worry flickering–but she nodded. "We'll do it."
Kiaria lifted his hand.
The training began.
The first bird attacked.
It vanished from sight–then reappeared directly at Princess's shoulder.
She barely twisted in time.
Its beak passed through the air where her neck had been an instant before.
The second targeted Diala's knee.
She stumbled sideways, falling–but rolled just as the beak shattered the bark beneath her.
Birds followed.
Three.
Seven.
Twelve.
The sky filled with slicing wind.
Princess cursed constantly as she dodged, slipped, kicked off trunks, spun on bark-covered roots. Diala panted heavily but forced her body to move faster–faster than fear allowed.
"DON'T LOOK AT THEIR BEAKS!" Kiaria shouted. "LISTEN TO THE WIND!"
A bird clipped Princess's sleeve.
Fabric tore.
Another grazed Diala's calf–blood streaked thin and red.
Princess gritted her teeth. "You planned that part too, didn't you?"
"Yes."
The flock accelerated.
Branches snapped from missed strikes. Trunks crackled under impact. The forest rang with sharp percussion–like rain made of steel.
Minutes stretched like hours.
Diala slipped again.
A beak lunged toward her face–
Princess slammed into her sideways.
They tumbled together across leaves and bark as the beak struck empty air.
Princess coughed. "…Don't die. I still owe you proper scolding."
Diala laughed breathlessly. "You always scold like a mother."
Kiaria tapped the ground once more.
The pattern shifted.
The birds now attacked in waves.
Princess screamed once as a bird grazed her ear. Diala's sleeve shredded. Their breathing turned heavy–ragged, uneven.
Then–
Something changed.
Their movements sharpened.
Slips became steps.
Fear turned into flow.
Princess began timing the beats of wings.
Diala learned to feel pressure in the air before attack.
A bird lunged.
Diala pivoted and avoided it by a hair.
Princess ducked under two crossing strikes.
Sweat ran into their eyes.
But neither stopped.
After long minutes, Kiaria lifted his hand.
The birds halted.
All twenty-five hovered in a wide ring.
Princess collapsed onto her knees first. "You… absolute… demon…"
Diala fell backward onto leaves, chest rising rapidly. "…My heart is trying to escape…"
Kiaria walked to the edge of the field.
"You survived," he said simply.
The birds slowly returned to their trees.
Princess stared up through drifting leaves. "…You wanted us to stop being prey."
"Yes."
Diala smiled faintly through exhaustion.
Then whispered, "…Thank you."
Above them, the forest settled once more.
But something inside both girls had already changed.