The fragile dawn rose with a pale, timid light, as if even the sun were afraid to enter the clearing.The silence was too deep.No birds sang.No insects buzzed.No animals rustled through the bushes.
It was the kind of silence that was not born naturally—but from fear.
Ren opened the cabin door slowly, the staff in his hand.Its tip still bore faint dark stains—remnants of the night before.The fragment remained inside the box, quiet, yet restless, as though waiting for something inevitable.
Lyra was already awake, standing at the center of the clearing with her bow slung across her back, eyes scanning every detail around them.
"Something's wrong," she said before Ren could ask.
Draven stumbled out next, yawning, but his expression shifted instantly as he felt the air."There's no sound. Not even a little. It's… weird."
Borin exited last, gripping his axe as though prepared to fight right then and there."Every forest makes noise. Even when sleeping, a forest breathes."He looked around, jaw tight."This is the silence of fear."
Ren agreed.
The forest was withdrawing.Hiding.Bracing itself.
He walked toward the White Spirit Flower.It glowed—but the glow was strained, unstable, as if it had to fight to stay lit.
"She's weak," Ren murmured.
Lyra approached."The flower feels everything happening in the forest. If it's like this… something is disturbing the ground."
Borin nodded."Let's take a look. The clearing isn't right."
They moved together.
They didn't need to go far.Just a few meters beyond the clearing's edge, they found the first sign.
Draven stopped so abruptly he almost fell."Hey… look at this."
On the ground, in a patch of damp earth, there was a mark.
A deep furrow.As if something massive had dragged a limb…or a root…across the soil.
Borin knelt down.
"This isn't a footprint."He ran his hand along the furrow."This is a drag mark. Something heavy, dragged either under… or over the ground."
Lyra crouched beside him."It looks like… a root."
Ren's stomach tightened.
Yes.A root.Just like the one that had pierced the deer's chest.
But much larger.
Draven swallowed hard."Ren…"He pointed to the direction of the furrow."This thing… it's heading toward our clearing."
Ren followed the trail with his eyes.The drag line went straight toward the clearing—and disappeared only a few meters away from the White Spirit Flower.
"This passed through here," Ren whispered.
Lyra immediately put a hand on her quiver.Borin lifted his axe.
Ren walked to the end of the trail and lay his fingers on the ground.
It was warm.
The soil… pulsed.
Very, very faintly—but it pulsed.
Ren closed his eyes.The vibration traveled through his fingers, up his arm, into his chest.
And then he felt something.
Not a vision.Not a dream.
A trace.
A spiritual scent.A trail of energy so ancient it felt like it had slept beneath the earth for centuries.
An energy that did not belong on the surface.
Borin saw Ren's expression change."What is it?"
Ren opened his eyes slowly.
"This..."He struggled for words."This isn't Cycle. Not forest. Not any spirit beast."He pointed at the trail."This is older than all of that."
Draven stepped back."Older… like how many years?""Centuries?" Lyra guessed."Millennia," Ren answered.
Silence took over again.
Lyra breathed deeply."So this thing… was sleeping?""Yes.""And now it woke up," Borin added.
Ren shivered.
"No."He looked at the three of them."It didn't wake up. It was awakened."
The words hung heavy in the still air.
Draven hugged his own arms."You're saying someone did this?"
Ren dragged the staff's tip along the furrow.The staff glowed faintly—silver—and the mark on the ground glowed back.
As if responding.As if alive.
Ren immediately pulled the staff away.
"Whoever it was…"He inhaled slowly."…is coming for the rest of that fragment."
The box inside the cabin trembled suddenly—so violently that the air vibrated for a moment.
All of them turned.
Lyra touched Ren's shoulder.
"The fragment is reacting."Her voice was tight."Ren… I think whatever is coming is already close."
Ren felt it.
Not through the staff.Not through his mind.Not through cultivation.
He felt it with his instincts.With his body.With his skin.
Something enormous…ancient…hungry…was moving beneath the earth.
Searching.Tracking.Coming straight for them.
"Back to the clearing," Ren ordered, voice steady but low."Now."
They ran together.
The flower trembled.The roots under the soil vibrated.The box pulsed.
Ren tightened his grip on the staff.
"The night that breathes…" he whispered."…is no longer far."