Elior followed the faint sound of laughter toward the village square. Children ran between the stalls, kicking up dust, shouting about who was fastest or who could climb the fence higher. Miren had called him, and he had obeyed. It was time to join them, though part of him wanted to linger by the creek, to feel the quiet pulse of the world again.
He spotted Lana spinning around with her arms wide, her laughter bright like sunlight, and Taron sitting cross-legged under a tree, arms crossed, frowning at the others. Elior’s feet moved of their own accord, carrying him toward the open space. He clutched the pebble he had kept in his pocket, turning it over in his hand. It felt ordinary now, yet he knew it had obeyed him before. That thought alone made his small chest tighten with excitement. “Elior, hurry!” Miren called from behind, waving him over. She didn’t look back to see if he was following. He slipped into the group quietly, keeping a hand in his pocket around the pebble. Taron glanced up. “Finally decided to join?” he muttered, but didn’t move. Lana grinned and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the circle of children. Elior allowed himself a tiny smile. He could play along, pretend to be normal. For now. As the children argued over which game to play, Elior let his fingers brush the pebble. A faint warmth ran through his hand. He focused lightly, letting his mind trace the connections he had glimpsed before. A thread stretched from his fingers to the pebble, then to the ground beneath his feet. Another to the tree near Taron. Another to the sun. They were quiet, patient, like the rules of the world had simply acknowledged him. He tightened his focus. The pebble lifted slightly in his hand, then dropped back down. Nothing spectacular. No flashy display. But to him, it was enormous. The world had answered his thought. Miren, standing near the edge of the group, froze. Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. Only she had noticed, only she had seen the faint glow in his eyes when the pebble stirred. She felt it in her chest, a strange tickle of awe, but she didn’t know why. “Elior?” Lana called, tugging at his sleeve. “What are you doing?” He blinked, shaking himself. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just… looking at the ground.” Taron scowled. “Stop daydreaming. If you cannot run, at least pay attention.” Elior nodded. He ran with them anyway, short legs pumping. For a moment, he forgot the threads, forgot the pebble, forgot the quiet pulse he had felt. Just a child running with children. But later, when the game ended and they all sprawled on the grass panting, he slipped the pebble out again. He focused again. This time, with a gentle push of thought, it rolled forward a few inches on its own. He laughed quietly. No one noticed. Not Lana, not Taron. Only Miren’s wide eyes. She ducked behind a small barrel, peeking at him as if he had done something impossible. Elior caught himself laughing too loudly and tucked the pebble back into his pocket. It was not yet the time for anyone to understand. He had touched the threads of the world, yes, but he had barely begun. As the sun dipped lower, painting the village in gold, Elior helped gather stray sticks for the evening fires. He moved with purpose now, a little steadier, a little calmer. The threads hummed faintly under his awareness. He could sense patterns in the earth, in the grass, in the way the smoke curled from the chimneys. And somewhere in the distance, past the forest line, something stirred. Nothing dangerous yet—only a subtle acknowledgment. Like the world had noticed him too. He paused, looking toward the forest. For a heartbeat, the threads trembled—as if something far away had looked back. The air grew colder. The pebble in his hand pulsed once, faint but clear, as though it were answering a call he didn’t understand. Elior swallowed, glancing at the horizon. The sky was calm, the village peaceful, yet his heart beat faster for reasons he couldn’t name. The world was bigger than the village. And somewhere beyond the stars, something had just realized his existence.Latest Chapter
Faurin's inferno
Faurin moved through the jagged cliffs of his assigned region like a predator walking among startled prey. Every step was deliberate. The wind carried a faint heat from his presence. Flames curled lightly at the edges of his flaming sword as if sensing the blood and coin pulses in the air. The cultivators of this region had already learned through instinct that his path was not to be crossed. Those who tried to evade him were often too slow.A young cultivator darted out from behind a rock, his face pale, hands trembling, clutching three coins as though they were a life raft. Faurin paused. His eyes, bright and sharp as molten metal, studied the boy. The pulse of coin energy from this one human was weak, but it drew Faurin’s attention like a faint signal to a hunter.“Please,” the boy whispered, voice shaking, “I beg you… do not take my coins. I have trained my whole life for this. Please spare me.”Faurin’s lips curved slightly, almost imperceptibly. He did not answer. His entire bod
illusions of the hunt
Aeris moved silently through the pale forest of her isolated region, her robes brushing against mist-laden branches as she walked. The trees around her stretched and twisted naturally, but she allowed her subtle illusions to layer over the world. Rocks appeared broken where none were, pathways folded upon themselves, and distant glimmers of light shifted with every step. To a passerby, the forest seemed disorienting, almost alive, yet Aeris’s presence remained calm, deliberate, and unhurried.Her hand hovered over the coins at her belt. Its resonance was quiet, almost imperceptible to anyone not close enough. It was not a beacon that pulled people toward her. It was a signal that someone nearby carried value. She had learned long ago that perception could shape behavior. Contestants would hesitate if they sensed it, and hesitation could be manipulated.Movement caught her eye. A lone cultivator, walking cautiously, entered her illusion. He wore the garments of a minor sect, his blue r
Region domination begins
The forest stretched out before Elior, broken only by jagged rocks and shallow gullies that marked the uneven terrain of his region. He moved steadily, almost leisurely, though every step carried intent. His coin, now faintly pulsing with the energy of five companions, remained nestled against his chest. Its subtle resonance no longer whispered, but hummed like a quiet heartbeat of warning.He had learned the rhythm of the realm. Contestants moved cautiously, skirting around him without realizing why. Even now, he could feel the wary avoidance of others as he passed through the undergrowth. Their hesitation brought a faint smile to his face.“People are smart,” he murmured softly. “They feel the danger before they see it. That will make the hunt easier.”The first target appeared shortly after noon, a young cultivator with a short, crooked staff and two coins dangling from a belt at his waist. The man’s expression twisted with suspicion as he noticed Elior. His body tensed, ready to s
The hunt begins
Elior walked steadily through the uneven terrain of his region, his steps quiet but deliberate. He could feel the subtle shifts in the environment, the way the ground responded beneath his feet, the faint brush of wind carrying scents of earth and stone. The Fractured Coin Realm had been strange and chaotic, but now it had settled into a rhythm. A rhythm he intended to exploit.He had remained patient until now, waiting for the right moment to begin actively hunting. Until this point, he had observed, measured, and ensured his own survival, but the time for caution had passed. He was ready.The thought brought a smile to his face. He could feel it in his chest, the single coin he had acquired earlier, faintly pulsing. A low hum, almost imperceptible, but enough to anchor his attention. There was no rush yet. He had not needed to chase coins before, but now, the hunt would be deliberate, controlled, and thorough.As he moved through a cluster of jagged rocks and low trees, he noticed t
First coin hunts
Elior had known this moment would come.He had delayed it long enough to understand the realm, to feel its rhythm, to observe how others moved within it like fish in unfamiliar waters. But observation had its limits. There was a point where standing still became a decision of its own.And Elior had never been fond of stagnation.He stood atop a slanted stone ridge, overlooking a stretch of forest that dipped into shallow valleys and rose again in broken hills. The Fractured Coin Realm looked peaceful from here. Almost deceptively so.He placed a hand over his chest.One coin rested there.It was not heavy. It did not burn. It did not pulse loudly or call out to anything beyond its immediate existence. Yet it was enough. Enough to place him within the rules of this place. Enough to make him prey or predator, depending on how he chose to move.Elior closed his eyes briefly.I’m done waiting.When he opened them again, his intent had settled.He stepped down from the ridge and entered th
Ripples beneath the surface
Rolan woke to silence.Not the gentle kind that followed rest, but the hollow kind that pressed against his senses and made his breath feel too loud. For a moment, he did not move. His body felt wrong, as though something essential had been stretched thin and never fully returned. His limbs were heavy, his meridians sluggish, and his essence circulation moved with the hesitance of a river after drought.He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.Pain existed, but it was distant. Exhaustion was what ruled him now. A deep, bone settled weariness that made even opening his eyes feel like effort.When he finally did, rough stone greeted him.A shallow cave. Narrow. Natural. The air inside was cool and faintly damp, carrying the scent of earth rather than blood. That alone made his brow tighten.He remembered blood.Fragments surfaced slowly, not as a clean sequence but as impressions. The spiked python erupting from the undergrowth. Its metallic hide catching the light. The crushing pressure of its
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