The air in the manor was thick with anticipation as Sullivan sat at the head of the room, hands clasped together in a thoughtful pose. Across from him, Lian Chen and Kael Sanguis had just returned from Darkwood Hollow, their expressions grave.

Lian Chen, usually calm and composed, looked worn. His eyes flickered briefly toward Kael before settling on Sullivan.

“So, what are the results of the investigation?” Sullivan prompted, leaning forward slightly.

Lian Chen sighed, his voice steady but laced with tension. “It’s best if the young master’s companions hear this as well. They were part of the original discovery. They deserve to know.”

Sullivan nodded, his brow furrowing in concern. “Silas. Fetch Rowan and Layla.”

Silas left the room without hesitation, his mind swirling with unease. Something about Lian Chen’s tone unsettled him. When he finally found Rowan and Layla, the two were engaged in a playful argument, but as soon as Silas relayed the gravity of the situation, their expressions sobered. Together, they made their way back to the manor, accompanied by Goldie and Trickster.

Once they arrived, the room seemed heavier with their presence. Silas and his companions took their seats, curiosity and apprehension etched across their faces.

Lian Chen wasted no time. He began speaking in a low, deliberate voice. “Our investigation at Darkwood Hollow revealed something far more troubling than we initially thought. We found splashes of refined blood... and the melted residue of a strange wooden figure hidden deep within the hollow.”

Rowan frowned. “Refined blood? Like the one used for curing illnesses?”

Lian Chen nodded grimly. “Yes, It’s incredibly rare. Refined blood is highly potent, a condensed form of a person’s life essence. But there was more to the one we found at Darkwood Hollow—this blood had a very high quality to it, and it was much more potent. It reminded me of something I had read in the historical records of the Takahara Clan.”

Kaede, who had been quietly observing, straightened at the mention of the clan. “The Takahara Clan... I know those records. I worked as a Guest Master of Archery there,” she said, her sharp gaze fixing on Lian Chen. “What are you referring to?”

Lian Chen’s voice lowered. “During the fourth generation of the Takahara Clan, the crown prince lost his claim to the throne. His rage consumed him, and in a fit of madness, he slaughtered his entire family. The king, the queen, his brothers, and even three of his father’s concubines. He gathered them in a room in the royal palace, barricaded the room from the inside and lit the room on fire. Anyone who tried to stop him along the way was slaughtered by him. When the remains were found, they saw something horrifying.”

Rowan leaned forward, eyes wide. “The king? But… how? Even if the prince was angry, overpowering the king seems impossible, doesn’t it?”

Lian Chen met his gaze. “Exactly. The king was no ordinary Soulweaver. He reigned for over two hundred years in perfect health, preparing to hand his kingdom to his son to give him more experience in governing. By all accounts, the prince should not have been strong enough to overpower such a man—especially at twenty-seven, a young age for any Soulweaver. Something gave him strength, something beyond what we understand. That corpse was likely far stronger than the one the young master and his companions fought at Darkwood Hollow.”

A heavy silence filled the room, the weight of the revelation sinking in.

“There were eight charred corpses,” Lian Chen continued, “but the body of the crown prince wasn’t lying with the others. It was kneeling in front of a massive stone goblet filled with refined blood—his blood, and likely that of his family. The goblet had somehow survived the inferno, as had a strange wooden figure found nearby.”

Kaede closed her eyes, recalling the old tales. “Yes, I remember now. That story was buried deep in the clan’s history. But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

Lian Chen nodded. “Yes. When they tried to bury the corpses, the prince’s kneeling body came back to life. It slaughtered everyone nearby in a berserk rage. Eventually, the Takahara Clan’s strongest Soulweavers and nobility banded together to kill his reanimated corpse, but the chaos in the capital city of Kazehara left many dead.”

Layla shivered, her voice barely a whisper. “And the blood? The figure?”

Lian Chen’s face hardened. “After the massacre, both the goblet with the refined blood and the wooden figure vanished. No one ever found out what truly happened to them.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “Are you saying... what we found at Darkwood Hollow could be connected to that? Could it be... the same thing?”

Lian Chen exhaled slowly. “Every detail of the incident at Darkwood Hollow matches what happened at Takahara. The refined blood, the strange wood—it’s all too similar to ignore.”

Silas’s grip on the armrest tightened as he processed this. “But this time... we managed to stop it.”

Lian Chen met his gaze. “You did more than stop it, young master. Your elemental flame magic was powerful enough to incinerate the refined blood and melt the sculpture. That’s the only reason we were able to prevent a repeat of the Takahara disaster.”

The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the room. Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before Sullivan spoke, his voice measured but stern. “If this is happening under our noses, it could be happening elsewhere.”

Kaede nodded, her expression grim. “We can’t assume this is an isolated event. If the Takahara Clan was involved, it’s likely this sort of thing has been brewing for generations.”

Silas exchanged a glance with Rowan and Layla. The weight of their shared experience, the chaos they had unwittingly stumbled into, now felt even more burdensome. Yet, Silas felt a sense of purpose behind it all for the first time.

“And... you’re saying this isn’t over yet?” Layla asked quietly.

Lian Chen shook his head. “I’m not sure, but this could only be the beginning.”

Silence fell over the hall as all they could do was stay as prepared as they could be and pray that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

The next day, the sun barely filtered through the forest’s canopy to the west of Amberheart. It was a peaceful place, untouched by the bustle of the city. Silas, Rowan, and Layla made their way through the underbrush, Goldie bounding ahead while Trickster coiled lazily around Rowan’s arm.

The cool, damp earth crunched beneath their boots, and the whisper of leaves overhead made it feel like the forest was alive, watching their every move.

Rowan was pulling a large, cylindrical structure behind him. The container held the preserved corpse of the Cloudform serpent, an awe-inspiring beast they had acquired recently. The serpent’s lifeless form floated within the Preservation Salve, a blue, viscous substance to keep it from decomposing. Its sleek, violet scales shimmered under the faint rays of sunlight, and its single horn jutted from its forehead with an eerie majesty.

Goldie padded beside Silas, occasionally sniffing the air curiously as they neared their destination, a clearing in the heart of the forest. Silas glanced at Rowan, noting the curious expression on his friend’s face.

“Rowan, what are you planning to do with this?” Layla asked, eyeing the massive tube.

Silas scratched his head. “Maybe Trickster wants to eat it,” he guessed with a smirk. “I mean, why else bring it all the way here?”

Rowan shrugged, clearly uncertain. “I’m not sure… I usually just feed him rats, rabbits, or birds. This is something else entirely. I’m not even sure if it can eat something this big.”

Layla raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You really think Trickster can eat it? Look at that thing. Its scales alone could probably stop a sword. Trickster can’t possibly swallow that.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

When they reached the clearing, Rowan set the container down with a grunt, gesturing toward Trickster. “Alright, Trickster. You ready for this?”

The group gathered closer, exchanging curious glances, all of them unsure what Trickster would do with such a massive creature.

Trickster uncoiled from Rowan’s arm, slithering toward the glass case with an odd eagerness. Silas, Layla, and even Goldie watched with mild confusion as Rowan opened the container, carefully pulling out the massive corpse of the Cloudform serpent. The dead serpent’s violet scales caught the sunlight, its horn casting a menacing shadow over the clearing. It was even more massive up close—its coiled body exuded a strange, lingering sense of power, even in death.

Trickster’s gaze locked onto the lifeless creature, eyes gleaming with an odd hunger.

“Alright, little guy, what’s the plan?” Rowan muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He reached out instinctively, his hand hovering above Trickster. “Careful, those scales look pretty tough—”

But before Rowan could act, Trickster moved faster than he’d ever seen, sinking his fangs effortlessly into the massive beast’s scales, as if they were made of soft clay. Rowan blinked in shock, his hand falling to his side as he watched the tiny snake tear into the massive serpent’s flesh as though it were soft fruit. The scales, which had seemed impenetrable, offered no resistance to Trickster’s sharp fangs.

“Wait, what? So it doesn’t swallow??” Layla blurted, her eyes widening. Then she realised what she said sounded weird and vulgar, so she felt embarrassed.

“Well… you don’t either…” Rowan replied absentmindedly.

Layla turned bright red as Rowan’s absent-minded comment registered. Without missing a beat, she marched over to him and ruthlessly pinched his arm.

“Excuse me?” she barked, her face still flushed.

Rowan stumbled back, rubbing his arm with a wince. “What? It was true! You don’t directly swallow your food!” he defended, still not quite grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Oh, I’ll show you the truth!” Layla growled, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him as if she could rattle sense into him.

Silas stifled a laugh from the side, trying and failing to look serious. Even Goldie gave a cheerful “Wow!” in perfect timing as if cheering on the one-sided brawl.

“Silas, help me out here!” Rowan pleaded, trying to escape Layla’s grip.

Silas raised his hands innocently. “I’d rather not get between that.”

Layla let him go with a final shake, arms crossed and eyes still narrowed. “Next time, think before you speak, lest people misunderstand something,” she warned with a flushed face.

Rowan straightened his collar, grumbling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah... I got it.”

After Rowan's bashing, their eyes focused back on Trickster.

Trickster devoured the entire Cloudform serpent in a matter of minutes, the massive beast’s once-majestic body now reduced to nothing. Silas and Layla exchanged bewildered glances while Rowan scratched his head, clearly baffled by what he had just witnessed.

Goldie growled softly, sensing the unusual nature of the situation. “That was… unsettling,” Silas muttered, his arms crossed.

Trickster finished the last bite and momentarily wriggled around on the ground, its form seeming to pulse and shift. Rowan crouched, watching closely as his small companion began to change. Trickster’s body elongated, and its head grew more pronounced, but there were two black horns jutting out from its forehead.

The group stood in stunned silence as Trickster’s form finally solidified. It had transformed into a smaller version of the Cloudform serpent. However, its new scales were a menacing black and violet rather than the original sleek violet.

“Did Trickster just… become a Cloudform serpent?” Layla asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

Rowan blinked, his mouth slightly agape. “Well… it does look pretty similar.” He stared at Trickster, who slithered in a slow circle, seeming to test out its new body.

Goldie sniffed at Trickster, then let out a curious “Wow” as if wondering if the transformed snake was still the same companion. Trickster, now more imposing with its new form, slithered playfully around Goldie, confirming that it was, in fact, still Trickster—just different.

Rowan, Silas, and Layla stared in awe, their earlier suspicions confirmed, yet none of them had ever expected this. They had seen Trickster transform before but never knew how he did it.

“Now we know why he transforms.” Rowan muttered, his voice filled with wonder. “It’s what he eats… he takes on their form.”

Layla replied, “Just the snakes, I think... I haven’t seen him become a rabbit or a bird.”

Silas, rubbing his chin, said, “And it’s not feeling uncomfortable in the new form, maybe it’s because the climate in Theron and Amberfell is similar?”

With Trickster’s matter done, Silas took a deep breath as he pulled the wind crystal from his pouch. The translucent crystal shimmered under the dappled sunlight. Its icy, cool surface seemed to hum faintly in his palm as if the wind itself was trapped inside. Rowan and Layla watched curiously while Goldie wandered off to the edge of the clearing, his restlessness growing by the second.

“Is that the crystal from the auction?” Rowan asked, leaning closer. “What are you planning to do with it?”

Before Silas could respond, a sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, and three familiar figures appeared—Breeze, Spark, and Dust, the elemental familiars bound to Silas. Breeze, the ethereal embodiment of wind, hovered lightly above the ground. Spark crackled beside it, like a tiny wisp of flame, while Dust’s pebble form swirled around them grains in the wind.

“Crystal... holds...” Breeze’s airy voice floated through the air. “Wind spirit... but dead, frozen... by a water spirit’s magic.”

Rowan furrowed his brow. “A dead wind spirit?”

Spark flared up slightly, flickering in Silas’s hand. “Yes… Lesser Wind Spirit... dead. Water Spirit froze it...”

Dust rumbled, its rocky voice slow and deliberate. “You can... take its power. Sacrifice... its body... perform Elemental Communion”

Silas held the crystal up, studying the shifting energy within it. “So I can use this to get stronger?”

Breeze swirled around him, her voice soft. “Yes... Elemental Communion... sacrifice the spirit’s body... strengthen bond with me.”

Rowan furrowed his brow. “Sacrifice? What does that mean exactly?”

Spark flickered brighter, his words sharp. “Use its body... as a sacrifice in the Communion... but, pain will come. Wind magic... will cut Silas from the inside... like blades.”

“Pain... will grow... every second,” Dust added, rolling at Silas’s feet. “An entire day... of suffering. But bond... will be stronger.”

Layla’s eyes widened, her concern evident. “You’re telling Silas to endure that kind of pain for a whole day? What if something goes wrong?”

Rowan shook his head, his face serious. “Silas, that seems pretty dangerous. Don't do it.”

Silas looked at his friends, feeling the weight of their concern. He knew they were right—it did sound dangerous. But after hearing Lian Chen’s report and learning about the darkness lurking just beyond their reach, he knew he had no choice. He wouldn’t be ready for what was coming if he didn’t push himself now.

Just as his friends were concerned about him, he was also worried about their future and well-being. He had to grow stronger to face the future and protect himself and the people he cared about. He must. His mind raced with images of the creature they had faced in Darkwood Hollow. Even now, the danger lurked just out of sight. He couldn’t afford to be weak.

“I can handle the pain.” Silas’s voice wavered only for a second, but his mind was resolute. If he didn’t grow stronger now, what chance would they have against what was coming? Lyala had almost died the last time, and he didn’t want a similar scenario to occur again. He wouldn’t let fear stop him—not when everything was on the line.

The familiars gathered closer. Breeze hovered near Silas’s face, her soft form swirling gently in the air. “It will hurt... but you must endure... We will grow strong... together.”

The crystal in Silas’s hand began to vibrate, the magic within stirring as Spark started to suppress the water spirit’s lingering power. The air thickened around them, and Silas could feel the tension building as Breeze prepared to extract the essence of the trapped wind spirit.

Layla stepped forward, her face full of worry. “Silas, you’re tough, but this? This is reckless even for you. If something goes wrong—”

“It won’t,” Silas interrupted, his voice steadier than he felt. “I’ll just need to endure.”

Breeze whirled around him, her soft voice soothing but sharp. “I will guide... the dead spirit’s magic... into you. Once inside... I must extract... its essence. Hold still.”

Silas gritted his teeth and nodded. “Do it.”

Rowan and Layla sighed at Silas’s adamant attitude and backed off, maintaining a certain distance so as not to affect the proceedings.

Spark’s flames flared brighter, focusing on the water spirit’s magic. Slowly, the power inside the crystal began to shift. Silas felt a sudden rush of cold, the water magic within struggling against Spark’s containment. The temperature around him dropped like he was standing in an icy wind.

“Hold... tight,” Spark said, crackling with effort.

Breeze’s energy stirred next, swirling around Silas as she directed the wind spirit’s dormant power toward him. He braced himself, feeling the slow, sharp sensation of wind blades cutting into his body from within. It started like tiny pinpricks, barely noticeable, but each second that passed intensified the pain.

“Magic... must flow... through you,” Breeze whispered. “The wind spirit’s power... will join ours.”

Silas clenched his fists, the burning cold of the water magic mingling with the sharp, cutting sensation of the wind. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to keep himself steady, but the pain grew with every passing moment.

Rowan and Layla watched from a distance, their faces etched with concern. “Silas, you don’t

have to do this,” Layla called out, her voice full of worry. “It’s not too late to stop.”

“I can handle it,” Silas grunted, though the growing intensity of the pain made him doubt his own words.

He sat down, took out Ebonheart’s leather sheath, and bit down to stifle his groans as the pain intensified.