Screams of mana clashing against shadow tore through the grove as the Umbral Remnant lunged with renewed fury. Its form rippled like ink dissolving in water, limbs stretching unnaturally, shaping and unshaping in the blink of an eye. Hunters surrounded it, each weaving spells, blades, and ethereal arts with desperate precision. Yet nothing landed as it should. Every strike dimmed as though swallowed by unseen lips. Every rune flickered, weakening before impact.
Aeryn struggled to keep consciousness as he knelt behind the defensive line. His body felt hollow. The energy he'd summoned—no, borrowed—from the System had drained him more brutally than any injury. His limbs tingled. His vision shook. A cold ache pulsed through his veins with every heartbeat.
But he forced his eyes open, because he needed to see.
The hunters were fighting for his life.
Elder Serath stood at their center, arms outstretched, weaving luminous glyphs through the air. Patterns of ancient authority—well beyond anything a civilian elf could comprehend—interlocked and spun around him. The air rippled around his silhouette, warping the world like heat rising from volcanic stone.
Behind him, the younger hunters attempted a coordinated strike. They chanted, their voices rising in rhythmic sync, forming a binding lattice of light meant to restrict unnatural entities.
But the Remnant twisted its head—if it even had one—and exhaled a pulse of shadow. The lattice shattered instantly. The hunters stumbled back, staggering as cold tore at their spirits like invisible claws.
Aeryn's pulse pounded.
He needed to help. Even if he could only stand, even if he could only draw breath—
But when he tried to push himself to his feet, his arms trembled violently and collapsed beneath him. His vision blurred again as the System whispered faintly:
[Warning: Host Body Fatigued.]
[Recovery Required.]
[Emergency Conduit Usage Not Recommended.]
[Stability: 9%.]
Aeryn clenched his teeth. He didn't have time to rest. The village didn't have time.
The Remnant lunged again, its shifting mass bending unnaturally as it aimed straight for Serath.
The elder moved faster than Aeryn had ever seen him move. The ground beneath him cracked as runes flared beneath his feet. He met the creature head-on, palms pressed together, releasing a burst of spiraling radiance.
Light collided with shadow—one ancient, one alien.
The resulting shockwave slammed through the grove. Leaves tore from branches. Roots shuddered. Mana lanterns cracked. Aeryn was thrown back, landing hard against a twisted arch of bark. He gasped, pain shooting down his spine.
He felt the System again, faint but present:
[Host Endurance +1]
[Threshold Reached: Body Adaptation Initiated]
[Warning: Pain Response High]
He didn't care about the pain.
He pushed himself up, using the bark for support.
The battle was escalating.
Serath reappeared through the dissipating smoke, his cloak torn at the edges, one sleeve scorched black. Mana bled from a cut on his cheek—a shimmering silver fluid that evaporated before reaching the ground.
He exhaled sharply. "This creature… it is not of this plane…"
The Remnant writhed, reforming with disturbing grace. Its edges glistened with corrupted astral residue—as if reality itself recoiled from it.
Hunters regrouped, trembling but resolute.
One whispered, "Elder… if it breaches the inner roots—"
"It won't," Serath said. "Even if I must tear it apart myself."
Aeryn watched with clenched fists. Something inside him twisted—something that felt more like instinct than emotion.
The creature wasn't just attacking randomly.
It was drawn to him.
Its earlier whisper echoed through his skull:
I found you.
He shivered.
Why?
How?
He had no answers.
The Remnant lunged again.
Serath countered, runes forming a shield. But this time, the shadow punched through, splintering the barrier like fragile glass. Serath's eyes widened—then the creature's tendril slammed into his chest.
The elder was thrown across the grove, crashing through a living wall of vine and wood. The ground trembled at impact.
"El—Elder Serath!" hunters shouted.
Aeryn's breath choked in his throat.
Serath didn't get up.
For a heartbeat, everyone froze.
The Remnant turned its gaze—or whatever it used to sense—toward Aeryn again. Its entire mass curled, contracting before expanding into a spear-like form of pure darkness.
Aeryn staggered back.
"No…"
The creature darted toward him—silently, swiftly, with intent unmistakable.
Everything slowed.
Hunters screamed, sprinting to intercept. But the Remnant was faster. Too fast.
Aeryn's heartbeat thundered.
Move.
Move.
Move.
His legs refused.
His mana was dry.
His vision pulsed white.
He felt death approaching—cold and absolute.
Then a hand caught his shoulder.
Aeryn barely turned before an unfamiliar presence pulled him aside with a force he couldn't resist. He stumbled to the ground, breath caught in his throat.
A wall of twisting blue flame erupted between him and the Remnant.
The impact shook the grove.
The flame was not ordinary mana. It howled silently, rippling like spectral fire that flicked between reality and illusion. The Remnant reeled, its form darkening further as though wounded more deeply by the flame than by Serath's earlier radiance.
Aeryn stared, chest heaving.
The flame's source stood before him.
A tall elf cloaked in dark green, marked by silver tattoos that glowed faintly beneath his skin. His hair was pale, almost luminescent, and his eyes flickered with an intense turquoise fire.
He had never seen this elf before.
Onii-chan, this was no villager.
The stranger lifted one hand, fingers drifting through the air with elegant precision. The blue flame thickened, swirling around his arm like a living serpent.
He spoke softly, voice carrying a calm authority that cut through the chaos.
"You are far from the plane that birthed you, remnant of the abyss."
The Remnant screeched—its first vocal cry—shrill and distorted, vibrating through Aeryn's bones.
The stranger stepped forward.
"You will not take him."
He didn't shout. He didn't threaten. The words carried a simple, unavoidable truth.
Aeryn swallowed.
"Who… who are you…?"
The stranger didn't turn. His eyes remained on the Remnant, studying it with an unreadable expression.
"I will speak with you soon," he murmured. "Stay behind me."
Before Aeryn could respond, the Remnant struck.
Its entire form unraveled into dozens of shadow-spears, hurling forward with lethal intent. Hunters dove aside. One shout of warning filled the air.
The stranger inhaled.
Blue flame spiraled upward, forming a towering vortex. Every spear that touched the flame dissolved instantly, devoured by an invisible force. The vortex expanded—then condensed into a single sphere of blazing azure.
With a flick of his wrist, the stranger hurled it.
The sphere streaked across the grove, leaving a trail of shimmering distortion behind it. When it struck the Remnant, light erupted—blinding, absolute.
Aeryn shielded his eyes.
A shriek tore through the grove.
When the light faded, half the Remnant's body was gone, melted into dripping, evaporating darkness.
The hunters gasped.
"That kind of power…" one whispered.
"Who is he?" another murmured.
But the Remnant wasn't finished.
It staggered, regenerating slowly. Its mass boiled, reforming piece by piece with agonizing twists. Its form now flickered, unstable—yet its focus remained locked entirely on Aeryn.
It didn't care about the hunters.
It didn't care about the stranger.
It wanted him.
The stranger exhaled faintly, as though disappointed.
"It endures more than expected."
Aeryn forced himself to speak, his voice shaking. "Why… why does it target me?"
The stranger didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he lifted his hand, tracing a circular rune in the air. The flames around him darkened to a deep indigo. The pressure around him shifted—heavy, ancient.
Then he said softly:
"Because something within you calls to it."
Aeryn's chest tightened.
The System?
He felt it stir again, reacting to the stranger's energy.
[Unknown Entity Detected.]
[Classification: Non-Hostile.]
[Similarity Detected: ???]
[Unable to Identify]
The Remnant screeched again, but this time, its form began to distort uncontrollably. The stranger's presence was pushing it past its tolerance.
The stranger raised his palm.
"This ends now."
The indigo flame condensed into a razor-thin line of light—a blade without a hilt, humming with otherworldly resonance. He stepped forward once, and the ground cracked under his foot.
The Remnant surged in desperation.
Shadows erupted like an explosion of tendrils—all aiming for Aeryn.
The stranger moved in a single blur of motion.
A line of light carved through the world.
The grove fell silent.
The Remnant froze mid-lunge. Its entire mass split down the center, light leaking from the wound. Then, as though unstitched from existence, the creature collapsed into dust-like particles that dissolved into the air.
Aeryn stared.
The hunters stared.
Even the wind seemed stunned.
The stranger exhaled softly, the indigo blade fading. He turned slowly, eyes settling on Aeryn with unsettling clarity—as if he could see through skin, mana, spirit… and deeper.
He approached, each step calm and measured.
Aeryn gripped the bark beside him, unsure whether to stand or remain still.
The stranger knelt before him.
"Your soul," he said quietly, "is carrying something impossible."
Aeryn's breath hitched.
The stranger didn't blink.
"It should not exist. It should not be here. And yet, it chose you."
Aeryn's heartbeat thundered.
The stranger extended his hand—not aggressively, but in a solemn gesture.
"My name is Lyran Kaelis. I am a Seeker of the Astral Veil." His eyes flickered faintly with indigo embers. "And you, child… your existence will change the fate of this realm."
Aeryn swallowed hard.
"What… is happening to me?"
Lyran's expression didn't soften, but his gaze carried something like respect.
"You have awakened a force the astral realms fear," he said. "A force that even Seekers are forbidden to wield."
Aeryn felt the System pulse inside him.
Lyran lowered his voice to a whisper.
"You carry an echo—something older than gods, older than this land. Something that draws both light and darkness to you."
Aeryn's fingers trembled.
"Why me?"
Lyran stared at him for a long moment.
Then he answered:
"Because you are not meant to remain who you are."
Before Aeryn could speak again, Serath groaned from the debris where he had fallen, and the hunters rushed to him.
But Aeryn barely heard them.
Because Lyran's final words cut deeper than any blade:
"You are a flaw in fate, Aeryn Vaelorian. And every plane that senses you… will try to erase you."