The underbrush shivered with each movement of the forest. Lana pressed herself against a thick tree trunk, heart pounding, green eyes wide and luminous in the shadowed grove. Her hands trembled slightly as she tried to summon control over her wind essence. The Celestial Wind fluttered around her like silver threads, tense, wild, responsive only to the sharp pull of her fear. Beside her, Taron crouched low, jaw tight, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths, eyes darting across every branch, every shadow. The distant echoes of the sects’ battle reached them as low, thunderous vibrations through the trees.“I… I don’t think we should have followed them,” Taron whispered, lips barely moving. His voice carried the weight of panic, but he tried to control it. “This is… way beyond us.”Lana’s gaze did not leave the clearing ahead. The forest seemed alive with tension, charged by the unseen collisions of immense power. “We had to see,” she murmured, voice steady despite the adrena

Elior moved deeper into the forest, weaving through shadows and undergrowth with a careful, silent grace. Every step was measured, deliberate, ensuring that no sign of his passage remained, no whisper of essence leaked that could betray his presence. His body still ached from the strain of the twin essence blade, the Primordial Energy it had demanded leaving his arms heavy, his veins pulsing faintly under his skin. Even at his stage of Essence Refinement, the strain had been immense, far beyond what ordinary training could prepare him for. He paused briefly on a fallen log, letting the forest’s natural sounds—rustling leaves, distant birdcalls, the muted tremors of the ongoing battle—steady his racing heartbeat. He observed the subtle fractures in his own energy, the way the primordial currents inside him sought balance again, and he reminded himself that growth, even at his speed, was still insufficient for what the future demanded. The forest echoed with faint roars from lingering c

Days passed since the forest had trembled under the weight of the Fifth-Realm golem, yet on the surface, life in the village returned to a deceptive calm. Children ran through the dirt streets laughing, elders tended their small gardens, and merchants resumed the rhythm of their simple trade. To any observer, it seemed as though nothing had happened. The sects had come, dealt with the disturbances, and left. Normalcy reigned.But Elior knew better. He could feel it in the air, in the subtle pull of the forest, in the faint fluctuations of energy that others could not sense. The village lay under a thin veil of calm, but beneath it, the world was shifting. He moved among the villagers, carrying the guise of a normal boy, speaking only when spoken to, keeping his eyes down, his essence suppressed to a whisper that could not be detected even by the keenest senses.Night after night, Elior slipped into the forest. The canopy above sheltered him, shadows blending with his silent movements.

The forest felt heavier the moment Elior crossed the familiar border of trees that marked the edge of the village’s known paths. Even in the dim light of early evening, there was a shift in the air, a subtle tension that seemed to cling to every branch, every leaf, every patch of moss on the forest floor. The usual chorus of distant bird calls and rustling small creatures was muted, replaced by a pressing silence that made him feel almost intrusive for merely breathing. Every step he took carried a weight, not from the ground beneath him, but from the unseen presence that seemed to stir somewhere deep within the shadows. He slowed his pace, scanning the undergrowth carefully, pressing a hand to the mossy soil. It was warm from the sun earlier in the day, but beneath the surface, he could feel disturbance. The soil was soft, as though trodden by too many feet, not just recently, but in patterns that hinted at flight, panic, and confusion.He crouched, inspecting the tracks more closely

The forest felt as if it had forgotten how to breathe. Elior remained pressed against the rocky ridge, his eyes fixed on the clearing below. His pulse hammered against his ribs, not from panic but from a pressure so vast it distorted the very air. Kavi crouched beside him, gripping Elior’s sleeve with shaking fingers. The monkey tugged lightly at his ear, then pointed upward with a trembling hand.Elior sensed it too. Movement above. Heavy wings cutting through the air. A shadow slid across the clearing, accompanied by a sharp metallic cry.The Arial Beast had appeared.The massive eagle hovered with deliberate slowness, its wingspan wide enough to cover a small cabin. Each downstroke sent waves of dust swirling from the ground. Its eyes glowed with ancient intelligence and hunger. It circled the Tiger King like a predator deciding the safest moment to strike.Elior inhaled sharply.The Tiger King moved.Not slowly. Not gradually. Not with any hint of its earlier weakness.It vanished