Chapter 125
Nille appeared on the warehouse floor with enough force that one knee nearly touched the concrete.
The teleportation had been successful, but the abrupt retreat and the pressure he had endured moments earlier left him briefly disoriented.
"Master Nille?"
Natty was the first to notice.
The fairy immediately abandoned what she was doing and rushed toward him, as she transform into her human size , and reach out to help him stand, she notice his huge change ,
A second later, another voice followed.
"Nille?"
Lakan Dalisay looked equally surprised.
The young man had been organizing supplies near one of the storage shelves and nearly dropped what he was holding when he saw Nille suddenly materialize inside the warehouse.
Both stared at him.
Then at each other.
Then back at him.
"You've been gone for weeks," Lakan said.
"We were beginning to wonder if you were able to reach the place you mentioned before, relating toward the letter."
Natty , looked at Lakan and spoke " its really complicated matter , i will will tell you everything when i have time,
"You vanished without warning." Natty added " we were all hoping you would write of call use ."
Nille pushed himself upright.
Normally he would have apologized or explained.
Instead, he immediately asked the first question that came to mind.
"Lakan. i am truely sorry buy , i lack time for other matters , i am sorry, please understand "
The seriousness in his tone caused both of them to straighten.
"Does your elder sister know anything about Buntala?"
Lakan blinked.
"Buntala?"
The question clearly caught him off guard.
After a moment, he slowly nodded.
"If anyone would know, it's her."
Then he frowned.
"Actually... you'd better ask her yourself."
Without waiting for further explanation, Nille reached for the ring Dalisay had given him.
The Ring of Maruha.
Its surface glowed softly as spiritual energy flowed through it.
The response was immediate.
Far faster than Nille expected.
The ring brightened.
Space rippled.
A pathway opened.
Maruha clearly hadn't wasted any time.
Elsewhere, Lualhati had been tending to matters outside Nille's property when she suddenly felt the familiar distortion.
Her mother appeared almost instantly.
The older Encanto looked unusually serious.
That alone was enough to draw attention.
Word spread quickly.
Before long, several fairies and household spirits had gathered inside the warehouse.
Natty hovered nearby.
Lakan stood silently.
Lualhati entered moments later.
Then Maruha stepped through the spatial pathway.
The moment she arrived, she looked directly at Nille.
One glance was enough for her to realize something had happened.
"Nille."
"You look exhausted."
Nille nodded.
"I don't have much time."
He took a breath.
Then asked immediately.
"Is Urto Dimas looking for the remnants of the Buntala?"
Silence.
Maruha froze.
For the first time since entering the warehouse, genuine surprise appeared on her face.
The surrounding fairies exchanged nervous looks.
Even Lualhati seemed caught off guard.
Maruha studied Nille carefully.
"Where did you hear that name?"
Nille ignored the question.
"Is he?"
The older Encanto remained silent for several moments.
Then she slowly sat down.
Her expression becoming distant.
Thoughtful.
Finally she spoke.
"The Buntala that belonged to my clan was lost centuries ago."
The warehouse grew quiet.
Maruha continued.
"It disappeared at sea."
"A very long time ago."
She folded her hands.
"Most younger generations believe it was destroyed."
"I am not convinced."
Nille listened carefully.
Maruha's gaze drifted toward the far wall.
Toward memories much older than any human nation.
"My people did not originate in these islands."
The statement surprised several listeners.
Even Natty looked shocked.
Maruha smiled faintly.
"Very few do."
She leaned back slightly.
"Our ancestors arrived here aboard Spanish cargo vessels."
The fairies exchanged glances.
Maruha nodded.
"Not as passengers."
"As refugees."
The room became still.
"Our lineage belonged to the remnants of ancient primordial bloodlines."
"Beings that survived the Great Flood."
The words carried enormous weight.
Nille immediately paid closer attention.
Maruha continued.
"Many of those primordial beings ruled regions that no longer exist."
"Some perished during the Great Calamity."
"Others became separated from their kin."
"Entire bloodlines vanished."
Her voice softened.
"And those who survived adapted."
The older Encanto looked toward Lualhati.
Then toward the gathered fairies.
"They mingled with mortals."
"They built families."
"Their descendants became what people now call Encantos."
The room remained silent.
The explanation felt older than history itself.
Maruha smiled sadly.
"We are shadows of something greater."
"Echoes."
"Fragments."
"Not the beings our ancestors once served."
Nille frowned.
"Served?"
Maruha nodded.
"Many Encanto lineages were not rulers."
"They were attendants."
"Messengers."
"Guardians."
"Servants."
Her expression darkened.
"When the Great Calamity came, entire courts disappeared overnight."
"Kingdoms vanished."
"Masters died."
"Servants scattered."
"The world broke apart."
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then Maruha continued.
"The sea became our prison."
That statement surprised Nille.
"What do you mean?"
"The ocean."
Maruha pointed downward.
"Saltwater interferes with many ancient spatial abilities."
"Especially those tied to older bloodlines."
"Our ancestors could no longer teleport effectively."
"No longer cross vast distances."
"No longer return home."
Lualhati nodded slowly.
"Our stories mention that."
Maruha smiled.
"Then your grandmother taught you correctly."
She turned back toward Nille.
"The survivors remained wherever the currents carried them."
"Many were washed ashore."
"Others disappeared forever."
"The Philippines became home to several such lineages."
"And among the treasures lost during that migration..."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"...was the Buntala."
Silence followed.
Nille could feel the pieces moving again.
The wounded Drake.
The Aswang.
The Tiyanak.
The Dimas twins.
The mention of Lord Arimaonga.
And now a relic lost centuries ago during the migration of ancient bloodlines.
Maruha studied him carefully.
Then spoke quietly.
"Nille."
"What exactly happened in Sector Twelve?"
The warehouse fell silent.
Everyone waited.
Because judging from Nille's expression...
Whatever answer he gave next was going to make the situation far more complicated than it already was.
The moment the words Sector Twelve left Nille's mouth, Lakan nearly jumped from his seat.
"What?!"
The sudden outburst startled several of the fairies.
Lakan stared at Nille as though he had just announced he had taken a casual walk into the underworld.
"You were in Sector Twelve?"
Nille nodded.
Lakan looked horrified.
"You came from Yamatai Island?"
Several of the younger fairies immediately began whispering among themselves.
Even Natty looked confused.
"What's wrong with Yamatai Island?" she asked.
Lakan opened his mouth to answer—
Only for Maruha to immediately cut him off.
"Lakan."
Her tone was calm.
But firm.
The young Encanto immediately fell silent.
"This isn't the time."
Lakan reluctantly sat back down, though the look on his face made it clear he still had several questions.
Maruha turned her attention back to Nille.
The brief interruption seemed to have reminded her of something.
Her expression became more serious.
"As for the Buntala..."
She paused.
"The metal itself is only part of the story."
Nille remained silent.
Listening.
"The original fragments were never kept as raw material for long."
"They were too valuable."
"Too dangerous."
Maruha folded her hands together.
"Our ancestors forged them."
"Weapons."
"Tools."
"Relics."
"Crowns."
"Needles."
"Blades."
"Rings."
"Various artifacts."
The fairies listened quietly.
Many had likely heard parts of the story before.
But Nille hadn't.
And Maruha clearly intended to explain it fully.
"The problem is that many of those items eventually disappeared."
Nille frowned.
"Lost?"
Maruha shook her head.
"Not exactly."
That answer immediately drew everyone's attention.
The older Encanto leaned back slightly.
"Throughout history, Buntala artifacts have developed a reputation."
"A strange one."
"What kind?" Nille asked.
Maruha's eyes narrowed slightly.
"As though they possess a will of their own."
The warehouse became quiet.
"Artifacts vanish."
"They reappear centuries later."
"They are buried."
"Then found elsewhere."
"They sink into the ocean."
"Then somehow emerge on distant shores."
Her voice remained calm.
Matter-of-fact.
As though describing something long accepted among the older Encanto clans.
"No one understands why."
"No one has successfully tracked all of them."
"Some scholars believe they are drawn toward significant events."
"Others believe they seek specific bloodlines."
"Still others believe they simply refuse to remain hidden forever."
Natty blinked.
"That's creepy."
Maruha nodded.
"It is."
Nille found himself remembering the countless relics Granny Amparo seemed to acquire through circumstances that often bordered on impossible.
The thought lingered.
Maruha continued.
"The material itself is unique."
"Unlike ordinary metals."
"It originates beyond this world."
Nille's eyes narrowed.
"Cosmic metal."
Maruha nodded.
"Yes."
The older Encanto's expression grew noticeably more uncomfortable.
"And that creates another problem."
"What problem?" Nille asked.
Maruha sighed.
"Encantos cannot properly sense it."
The room became silent.
Nille blinked.
"You can't?"
Maruha shook her head.
"No."
"Not directly."
"The metal is foreign to the spiritual systems most Encantos rely upon."
"It produces almost no recognizable spiritual signature."
"We cannot track it."
"We cannot feel it."
"We cannot easily locate it."
She gave a small, bitter smile.
"A human treasure hunter often has a better chance of finding Buntala than an Encanto does."
That revelation surprised everyone.
Even Lualhati looked thoughtful.
Maruha continued.
"The only reliable way we know a Buntala artifact is present..."
She paused.
Her expression becoming grave.
Maruha exhaled slowly, as if choosing her words more carefully this time.
"…is when someone uses it. It can be anything," she corrected herself. "No Encanto or powerful supernatural beings can sense it."
The room fell quieter.
Even the younger fairies stopped fidgeting.
Maruha continued, her expression tightening with every sentence.
"The meteor metal that Buntala items were created from doesn't just harm us physically. It interferes with us completely."
She tapped lightly against her temple.
"It nullifies our perception. Our spiritual sensing. Even our instincts."
Lakan frowned. "Like a suppression field?"
"Worse," Maruha replied immediately. "It doesn't suppress. It distorts."
Her gaze lifted toward Nille.
"It's like that crystal humans talk about in old experiments—the one that weakens superhuman abilities."
Natty blinked. "Kryptonite?"
"Something like that," Maruha said, nodding faintly. "Except we don't just weaken. We lose certainty. We lose clarity. Our perception becomes unreliable."
She paused, her voice lowering.
"We can't identify it properly. Not unless we are already wounded by it."
That sentence alone made the atmosphere in the warehouse shift again.
Maruha's fingers curled slightly.
"When we are near it, our vision distorts. Distance becomes unclear. Presence becomes uncertain. Even our thoughts slow. It numbs the mind, like fog settling inside the skull."
She looked down at her hand.
"It is not a weapon in the way mortals understand weapons."
A bitter smile crossed her lips.
"But it becomes one easily."
Lualhati spoke quietly. "Because you can't defend against what you can't perceive…"
Maruha nodded.
"Exactly."
Her expression darkened further.
"The Buntala that fell to this world thousands of years ago was scattered in fragments. Some pieces were forged into artifacts. Others were lost entirely."
She leaned forward slightly.
"And the ones that fall in modern times…"
"They are usually recovered by museums. Stored. Locked behind mortal security systems."
Lakan frowned. "So humans are just… holding them?"
Maruha gave a short, almost humorless laugh.
"To mortals, it is just an unusual metal. A rare curiosity. Something to display."
Her eyes sharpened.
"But for our kind…"
She paused.
"It is a material of death."
Silence followed.
Even the fairies avoided speaking.
Maruha's voice softened slightly, but the weight remained.
"They don't realize it, of course. Humans can touch it, store it, study it. It does not react to them the same way."
She looked at Nille again.
"But the moment it is shaped into something with intent… something that carries purpose…"
Her eyes narrowed.
"That is when it becomes dangerous."
Nille didn't speak.
Not immediately.
Not because he didn't understand what Maruha was saying—but because a separate realization had quietly surfaced in his mind, one that made the entire explanation feel uncomfortably close.
Too close.
Inside the Celestial Cloth's storage, sealed away in layered folds of compressed space, were three Buntala items.
He had acquired them without fully understanding what they were at the time. In his eyes, they had simply been anomalous relics—useful, rare, and strangely compatible with his techniques. He had tested them in controlled situations, incorporated them into field work, even relied on them when facing entities that should have been beyond his level.
And yet…
No Encanto who had witnessed him using them had ever been able to clearly recall the moment afterward.
That was the part that unsettled him the most.
Not the danger.
Not even the implications of what Maruha had just explained.
But the fact that every encounter involving those weapons seemed to leave behind a gap in perception, as if memory itself had been slightly misaligned after exposure.
Nille's eyes lowered slightly as he processed it.
So that was what they meant by distortion.
Not just sensory interference.
Not just spiritual suppression.
But something that actively degraded recall—scrambling the continuity of perception in a way that made even direct witnesses uncertain of what they had seen.
That explained why Encantos couldn't reliably track it.
And why even Maruha's kind treated it as something closer to a curse than a material.
Nille exhaled slowly.
He could still feel the weight of it now that he thought about it more carefully.
Every time he had used one of the Buntala items, there had been something slightly off about the aftermath. Not in the environment—but in the way others reacted. Descriptions didn't match perfectly. Details drifted. Conversations became inconsistent when people tried to recall what had happened.
At the time, he had dismissed it as stress, or the chaos of battle conditions.
Now he understood it differently.
The metal didn't just harm Encantos when it struck them.
It disrupted the continuity of observation itself.
A weapon that attacked memory as much as flesh.
Nille kept his expression controlled, but inwardly he was calculating rapidly.
If Maruha was right, then even acknowledging its use openly was dangerous. Not because it would reveal his possession—but because the act of recalling it too clearly might already be exposing him to the same distortion patterns she described.
And yet… he had been using it.
Repeatedly.
Without realizing the full nature of what it did.
A faint tension gathered in his chest.
Not fear.
But caution sharpening into focus.
He finally looked up.
"So even Encantos who witness it… can't properly retain what they saw?"
Maruha studied him for a long moment before nodding.
"Not clearly. Not reliably."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"They remember fragments. Emotions. Aftereffects. But the sequence breaks apart. Causality becomes uncertain."
Lakan frowned. "That sounds like it messes with memory itself."
"It does," Maruha said simply.
A quiet pause followed.
Inside it, Nille's thoughts continued to align.
That explained everything.
Why reports contradicted each other.
Why details changed depending on who described them.
Why powerful beings failed to trace its usage even when it was right in front of them.
And most importantly, Why he had been able to use it without drawing immediate attention from those who should have recognized its significance.
Because even if they saw it…
They couldn't hold onto the memory of seeing it properly.
Nille slowly leaned back.
For the first time since returning, a small, uneasy clarity settled over him.
The Buntala items in his possession weren't just dangerous weapons.
They were blind spots in reality.
And he had been carrying three of them without fully understanding what they were erasing behind him.
Lakan crossed his arms. "So the real threat isn't the metal itself… it's when someone uses it properly."
"Yes," Maruha said.
Then she added quietly:
"And the problem is, we only ever learn it is being used when it is already too late."
Nille remained silent for a moment.
The pieces were locking together in his mind again.
The wounded Drake.
The Aswang's fear.
The scar that never healed.
The Dimas twins chasing remnants.
Urto Dimas searching for something large enough to break a seal.
And Buntala, something invisible, untraceable, and lethal to anything non-human.
Finally, Nille spoke.
"…so if someone is gathering it intentionally," he said slowly, "then they already know how to use it."
Maruha didn't answer immediately.
But her silence was enough.
Outside the warehouse, the wind shifted slightly.
And for a brief moment, it almost felt like something far away was watching the conversation unfold.
The atmosphere inside the warehouse shifted.
Nille already suspected where this was going.
Maruha confirmed it.
"If a Buntala weapon wounds an Encanto..."
She slowly touched an old scar hidden beneath her sleeve.
"...the injury never truly heals."
Nobody spoke.
The fairies exchanged uneasy looks.
Maruha's voice became quieter.
"The wound may close."
"The bleeding may stop."
"But the damage remains."
"Forever."
A chill settled over the room.
Nille immediately thought back to the Aswang woman's scar.
The one she had unconsciously touched while speaking about the metal.
Now it made sense.
Maruha noticed his expression.
"You've seen such a wound."
It wasn't a question.
Nille nodded slowly.
"Then someone recently used a Buntala weapon."
His voice was calm, but the implication settled heavily in the air the moment he said it.
Somewhere in Sector Twelve, a Drake had been wounded badly enough that even Malignant groups were avoiding it. A creature powerful enough that even experienced entities hesitated to approach it had still been injured—badly enough to change the behavior of everything around it.
The question wasn't just what had been used.
It was who could use it effectively enough to do that.
Nille's thoughts tightened.
If Buntala truly behaved the way Maruha described—distorting perception, interfering with spiritual awareness, and bypassing natural defenses—then the attack on the Drake wasn't random. It meant the weapon had been applied with intent, precision, and understanding.
That wasn't accidental.
That was trained.
And more importantly…
It meant someone was actively using it in the field.
Lakan broke the silence first, voice lower than usual.
"…so someone out there is actually wielding it?"
Maruha didn't answer immediately.
The older Encanto's expression had darkened further, as if the conclusion she had been avoiding was now unavoidable.
Then she finally spoke.
"Yes."
A short pause followed.
Then she added quietly:
"And that changes everything."
The implication hung in the air like a pressure that refused to dissipate.
A wounded Drake in Sector Twelve.
Powerful Malignants avoiding the area entirely.
The Dimas twins searching for fragments of something ancient.
An unknown Master attempting to break the seal of Lord Arimaonga.
And now confirmation that Buntala—something that should have remained lost or scattered—was not only present, but actively being used.
For several moments, no one spoke.
Then Lakan exhaled sharply, almost under his breath.
"…this is getting out of control."
Maruha slowly closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, her gaze shifted, not to Lakan, not to the others, but directly to Nille.
There was something different in her expression now.
Concern.
Focused.
Measuring.
Because she had noticed something the others hadn't fully connected yet.
Nille had asked about all of this too quickly.
Too specifically.
As if he already knew pieces of the answer.
"Because," Maruha said carefully, "if Urto Dimas is searching for Buntala…"
She paused.
"…then he isn't looking for history."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"He's looking for something that is already in motion."
A heavier silence settled over the warehouse.
And this time, no one laughed it off.
Because somewhere far away in Sector Twelve, something had already been struck by a weapon that should not exist in the open world.
And whatever had done it, was still out there.
Nille remained silent for a moment after Maruha's words settled in the air.
The weight of everything they had just discussed pressed down on the warehouse like an unseen pressure—Buntala, Arimaonga, the wounded Drake, the Dimas twins, and something far larger moving behind all of it.
Without saying anything further, Nille made a decision.
He subtly shifted his spiritual connection inward, reaching into the layered storage of the Celestial Cloth. Within its compressed folds of space, he isolated the two Buntala-adjacent weapons he had been carrying—the jungle bolo and the butterfly knife. They had served him well in past encounters, but after everything he had just learned, keeping them accessible felt less like preparation and more like exposure.
Carefully, he sealed them deeper into storage, suppressing their resonance signatures and folding them into a more concealed layer. Not destroyed. Not discarded. Just… hidden for now.
Only when the process was complete did he exhale slightly.
His expression remained calm, but his thoughts had already moved far ahead of the conversation.
The logic was simple.
Buntala wasn't just a weapon.
It was a key.
A key that could either break something sealed… or eliminate something that should never be unsealed in the first place.
And right now, Nille had no idea which one was correct.
But what he did know—what had become increasingly clear with every piece of information—was that the Aswangs and Tiyanaks he had encountered were never the true threat in this situation.
They were disposable.
Foot soldiers at best.
Predators, yes—but low-tier ones in a hierarchy that extended far beyond them.
Granting them importance would be a mistake.
Overestimating them would be even worse.
Nille's gaze lowered slightly as his mind connected the remaining pieces.
If they were here…
If they were waiting on instructions…
If they were speaking about Masters, seals, relics, and wounded Drakes…
Then someone was directing them.
Someone who didn't need to act openly.
Someone who used lesser Malignants as tools rather than assets.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Only one name fit that pattern cleanly enough to explain the scale, the secrecy, and the willingness to let disposable creatures operate near unstable relic zones.
Apo Lakkay Masalanta.
The thought didn't come with certainty.
But it came with enough weight to settle into his instincts like a familiar danger returning from memory.
A being of that level wouldn't care about Aswangs or Tiyanaks except as distractions. They would be expendable pieces—meant to observe, delay, or provoke reactions while something larger moved unseen.
Nille finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady.
"They weren't important."
Lakan looked at him. "What?"
Nille's gaze remained distant, already analyzing routes, factions, and possible objectives layered beneath the surface.
"The ones in Sector Twelve," he continued. "The Aswang, the Tiyanak… they're not the real players."
Maruha's eyes narrowed slightly at his tone.
Nille continued.
"They were watching something they don't understand. Waiting for orders they probably don't even fully comprehend."
He paused briefly.
"And whoever is actually controlling this… doesn't need them to be strong."
His expression hardened just slightly.
"They just need them to be replaceable."
A quiet tension spread through the room.
Because that kind of strategy wasn't random.
It was deliberate.
Structured.
Hierarchical.
And extremely dangerous.
Nille finally looked up toward Maruha.
"If Apo Lakkay Masalanta is involved," he said calmly, "then the situation isn't about hunting relics anymore."
A pause.
"It's about staging something."
The warehouse fell silent.
Even the fairies stopped moving.
Because everyone understood the implication without needing it explained further.
Something in Sector Twelve wasn't being searched for.
It was being prepared.
And whatever was coming next… was already in motion.