"Emissary, you see—I am a Spring Nymph among the Nymph race," she said softly. "My kind excels in healing and guardianship, but our combat strength is the weakest among all Nymphs."
Her voice carried neither complaint nor self-pity, only a calm statement of fact.
"In recent years, as humanity continues to expand and faith in nature gradually fades, my power has weakened even further."
Her gaze drifted toward the depths of the lake. Though her facial features were indistinct, the helplessness and exhaustion within her eyes were unmistakable.
"The existence at the bottom of the lake, along with that blasphemous stele… the corrupt power they emit is constantly eroding my lake and twisting my people."
She paused briefly, as if steadying herself.
"I rely on the power of the lake to barely suppress it, but—" her voice softened, tinged with strain, "I am almost at my limit."
"That power grows stronger with each passing day. Once it completely breaks free, or once the stele is fully activated—"
Her gaze sharpened, filled with dread.
"Not only I and this lake, but all living beings in the surrounding region will face an unimaginable catastrophe."
Once more, she turned her attention fully to Karl El. Though her outline shimmered like rippling water, the anticipation in her eyes was vivid and sincere.
"So… I truly need your help, Emissary."
"You carry the aura of a goddess's favor. More than that, you possess a strength unlike any I have ever encountered."
Her voice lowered, carrying a fragile hope.
"Perhaps… only you can resolve this crisis."
Karl El opened his mouth, but no words came out.
His throat felt dry.
He fell silent for a moment, recalling the intense discomfort and violent mental shock he had experienced merely from witnessing the images she had shown him earlier.
And when his thoughts drifted to the descriptions of Outer Gods and Great Old Ones—their incomprehensible existence, their corrupting presence—his unease deepened.
Finally, he spoke, slowly and carefully. His tone was apologetic, tinged with a subtle but undeniable apprehension.
"Lady Nymph… I'm afraid I truly don't have the power to fulfill your request."
He raised a hand and pointed to his forehead, meeting her gaze honestly.
"Simply observing the images you showed me—without any direct contact with the entity itself—was already enough to cause extreme discomfort to both my body and mind."
"The existence at the bottom of the lake is far beyond anything I can contend with at my current level."
He exhaled softly.
"I fear that not only would I be unable to help you, but I might even end up involving myself too deeply and… possibly accelerating its escape."
The moment Karl El finished speaking, silence fell upon the lake.
The Nymph did not immediately respond.
Her emerald figure swayed gently upon the shimmering surface of the water, ripples spreading outward in faint rings, as though reflecting her internal struggle and reluctance to accept his answer.
Yet she did not retreat.
After a brief moment of contemplation, she lifted her head and met Karl El's eyes once more. Her voice, when she spoke again, was steady and resolute.
"Do not be discouraged, Emissary. You are observed by the Mother of the Trinity, and you have received her response."
"That alone proves you possess potential far beyond that of ordinary beings—perhaps even powers within yourself that have yet to awaken."
She offered a faint, reassuring smile.
"I understand your caution. Fear in the face of the unknown is the instinct of all intelligent life."
Her tone shifted subtly, now carrying a note of hope.
"I have resided in this lake for a very long time. I am not without… accumulations."
"I possess certain collections."
"They may not solve the problem entirely, but they can enhance your strength or provide you with protection—giving you a greater chance of survival when facing the filth at the lake's bottom."
Before Karl El could respond, the Nymph raised her slender arm.
Her movements were elegant and unhurried, like a ritual perfected over countless years.
She gestured gently toward the calm surface of the lake.
Instantly, streams of bubbles rose from the depths like ascending pearls, disturbing the lake's stillness.
Moments later, dozens of clear water columns surged upward, breaking through the surface.
At the tip of each water column rested an item, each emitting a distinct glow and aura. Slowly, they drifted toward the lake shore and came to a halt before Karl El.
The collections were dazzling.
There were large gemstones—some the size of eggs, others as large as fists—each containing condensed elemental energy.
There were also strange branches sprouting vivid green shoots, bearing plump acorns that radiated vigorous life.
Several artifacts emitted faint magical fluctuations: small mirrors carved with ancient runes, oddly structured helmets corroded with rust yet clearly imbued with mysterious power.
Among them all, one item stood out in particular.
A longsword without a scabbard.
Its blade glowed with a soft orange runic light, flowing rhythmically like a living breath. The power it exuded was pure, tenacious, and unyielding.
Any single one of these treasures would have been enough to drive kings, nobles, and mages of the world into madness.
Karl El's gaze swept quickly across the array.
Many of the items were impressive, yet none stirred his heart.
The sword, suspected to be the legendary blade of the Lady of the Lake, caught his interest. It was undoubtedly powerful.
But then—
His gaze stopped abruptly.
At the tip of one water column lay an unassuming object.
A fragment no larger than the palm of his hand, irregular in shape, resembling a piece of pale citrine.
It emitted no dazzling light.
It radiated no overwhelming aura.
Compared to the surrounding treasures, it looked almost plain—perhaps even insignificant.
Yet the instant Karl El saw it, something within him reacted violently.
An indescribable, uncontrollable longing surged from the depths of his being, erupting like a volcano.
It was not desire born of greed.
It was a call—originating from the instinct of life itself.
Without conscious thought, Karl El stepped forward, drawn irresistibly toward the crystal fragment.
He stopped directly before it.
The fragment was crystal clear, utterly pure. To the naked eye, there was nothing unusual about it.
Yet Karl El was certain.
"There's no way the Lady of the Lake would collect something useless," he thought.
His eyes flickered faintly as he activated his Clairvoyance ability to its fullest extent.
His vision pierced the crystal's surface, delving deep into its internal structure.
At first, there was nothing.
The interior appeared uniformly transparent, resembling the purest natural crystal.
Karl El did not give up.
He focused harder, continuously increasing the magnification of his vision.
Layer after layer unfolded before him.
As he pushed his Clairvoyance toward its limit, something finally appeared.
Deep within the crystal—at the very core of its structure—were faint golden specks.
They were countless times smaller than dust particles.
They moved slowly, flickering weakly, almost as if frozen in time.
Sparse. Scattered.
Had Karl El not possessed Super Senses, he would never have detected them.
And yet, it was precisely these almost negligible golden specks that triggered the intense throbbing and longing within his body.
At that moment, the Nymph glided silently across the water, arriving at his side.
Following his unblinking gaze, she looked toward the crystal fragment as well.
Then she let out a soft exclamation.
"Emissary… you— you actually took a liking to it?"
Karl El immediately turned to her, his eyes sharp with curiosity, waiting for her explanation.
A look of distant recollection appeared on the Nymph's face.
She spoke slowly, as if dredging memories from the depths of time.
"It… is very special."
"I only remember that it came from a very, very long time ago."
Her voice faded, carrying with it the weight of forgotten ages.
And the lake fell silent once more.
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