As the group continued their trek, the sun dipped lower in the sky, spilling amber light across the treetops. Shadows grew longer, reaching out like claws across the forest floor, and the warmth of day began to slip away, leaving everything to the mercy of moonlight. The air was cooling fast, but the oppressive stillness of the scarlet forest remained.
Eventually, they came to a dense wall of thick underbrush. The bushes were tangled and high, like a natural barrier daring them to pass. Without needing to speak, they came to a stop before it.
Kealix stepped forward slightly, eyes narrowing at the leafy wall. The branches were knotted together, the crimson foliage pulsing faintly in the low light like veins under skin. It didn't look passable.
"…Is this it?" he asked, turning to Thalia, who stood silently before the thicket. Her mask faced the greenery, unreadable as always.
"It is," she said flatly. Without another word, she stepped forward—and to Kealix's surprise, she passed through the dense brush with no struggle at all. The branches parted around her like water around a stone.
Kealix blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Wait—what?"
He turned to Leo, who had stopped just beside him. "Do we follow her?"
"Of course we do," Leo replied with a shrug and a grin, that ever-present glint of amusement in his eyes. "My sister's our guide, remember?"
Kealix took a breath and followed.
The crimson leaves pushed against his face as he moved through the brush, their sharp edges scraping his skin. He instinctively closed his one eye to protect it as a particularly thorny branch dragged along his cheek. The passage was tight, resistant, like the forest itself was testing him—unlike how it had parted for Thalia.
Then, suddenly, the resistance vanished. His boots thudded softly against damp earth, and the forest opened up.
He stepped into the clearing—and froze.
His breath caught.
Before him lay a wide, still lake of crystal-clear water. Moonlight reflected off its surface like silver fire, dancing across the ripples stirred by the wind. The air here was still, reverent. Silent.
It was the first body of water he'd seen since arriving in this world, and the sight struck him like a blow. In the chaos and danger of the forest, he had almost forgotten the simple serenity of still water. The lake glimmered like something sacred.
He stepped further out, eyes scanning the shoreline.
But something was… off.
There were no animals. No birds chirping in the trees. No signs of life at all. The air was too quiet. Too still.
Kealix frowned and looked toward Leo, who was just stepping out behind him.
"Shouldn't there be animals here?" he asked, voice hushed with confusion. "To drink, I mean. It's a fresh water source. It's… empty."
Leo scratched the back of his neck, his grin faltering slightly. "That's a question for Thalia, man. I can't help you with that one, sorry." He chuckled, but there was a note of discomfort behind it.
Kealix's eyes narrowed, and he turned to find Thalia.
She stood at the edge of the lake, her posture still, arms at her sides. The porcelain mask was tilted down toward the water, like she was listening to something beneath the surface—or beyond it.
Kealix approached slowly. "Hey, Thali—"
"Silence," she cut him off without turning. Her voice was low and sharp, laced with tension. "The Rival of the Forest Lord is listening."
The words hit Kealix like a splash of cold water.
He stopped mid-step, eyes scanning the trees, the lake, the shadows—anything.
The what?
A chill ran down his spine, and suddenly the stillness of the clearing no longer felt peaceful. It felt… watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
He swallowed hard, lips pressing into a tight line. He didn't know what—or who—the Rival of the Forest Lord was. But he could feel it.
Something was out there.
And it was listening.
Just as Kealix began to glance around the clearing again—checking to make sure he hadn't missed anything—he noticed something strange. The surface of the lake… it was shifting.
At first, it wasn't violent. No crashing waves, no sudden splash. The water simply began to part—smoothly, reverently—like something sacred was rising from below, and the lake was making way for it.
It was slow, graceful—too intentional to be natural.
Then, it emerged.
A massive serpent rose from the depths of the water, and Kealix's breath hitched. It wasn't like the grotesque beasts he'd fought in the forest. This creature… it was something else entirely.
Majestic.
Its body, long and winding, shimmered with brilliant azure scales that caught the moonlight like living gemstones. Running along its length was a serpentine pattern of yellow and white, pulsing faintly with power. The creature's head was sleek and elegant, crowned with smooth ridges instead of horns. Its eyes—impossibly bright, glowing pools of deep blue—seemed to pulse with the very essence of water itself.
Kealix couldn't look away. The sheer scale of it was staggering—comparable in size to Abbynerr, the monstrous creature he had barely survived facing. And yet… this serpent felt different. Divine.
It turned its head slowly, gliding across the surface with impossible silence, until its radiant gaze fell upon them.
Kealix dropped to his knees before he even realized what he was doing.
Not out of fear—though there was certainly awe—but out of instinct. Like kneeling before something far greater. Something older. Something that deserved reverence. Beside him, Leo and Thalia followed suit, their movements just as wordless and immediate.
The serpent drifted closer, its long, flowing body trailing behind like a ribbon through the water. But Kealix didn't feel threatened. If anything… he felt safe.
Warm.
As if the creature's presence wrapped around him like a protective shroud. Not like prey being studied by a predator—but like a child being watched over by a guardian.
The serpent leaned in.
Its nostrils flared slightly, the tip of its snout hovering just inches from their bowed heads. Kealix could feel its breath—cool, crisp, like mountain air—and he realized it was smelling them. Studying them.
Then it stopped.
Right in front of him.
The serpent lingered there, unmoving. Its huge glowing eyes were fixed directly on him now. And something shifted.
Kealix slowly raised his head, his breath caught in his chest. The creature's gaze had changed.
It wasn't just curiosity anymore. It wasn't reverence, or indifference.
Its eyes were filled with something else.
Shock.
Kealix blinked, his heart pounding. He could feel it—some silent recognition passed between them, though he had no idea what it meant. Why was it looking at him like that?
What did it see?
For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the serpent pulled back. Its massive body slid silently across the lake's surface, returning to the water with the same grace it had emerged with. Within seconds, it had vanished beneath the glassy depths, leaving the lake still and silent once again—as if it had never been there.
Kealix remained kneeling, his hands clenched into the soil beneath him. His pulse thundered in his ears.
He couldn't shake the feeling. That serpent… it had seen something in him.
Something even he couldn't see.
"Phew," Leo exhaled, brushing his hand across his forehead. "Looks like it recognized us. That's good."
Kealix turned to him, his brow furrowing. "Recognized you?" His voice came out low and curious, a weight to the question that carried more than simple confusion.
Leo tilted his head slightly, his usual grin returning. "Yeah. That serpent wasn't an Aether Beast—it was a Mystical. There's a difference."
Before Kealix could ask further, Thalia stepped forward, her tone calm but laced with quiet authority. "Mystical beasts are different from the ones you've been fighting. Their nature is tied to harmony. They protect—or at the very least, tolerate—those who align with harmonic aether. Unlike Aetheric Beasts, we aren't a threat to them. So there's no reason for them to attack us."
Kealix stared at her, almost stunned by how effortlessly the knowledge spilled from her lips. There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. She just knew, the way some people knew how to breathe or walk without thinking. He found himself quietly impressed—and comforted. Whatever that creature was, she understood it… and it hadn't killed them. That was something.
Leo stretched his arms behind his head, already moving toward a dry patch of ground. "Alright. I'll get a fire going and cook this thing up," he said, lifting the freshly hunted meat they'd been carrying. Then he glanced at Kealix with a half-smirk, gesturing loosely toward him. "You—go wash up before changing. You seriously need it, man."
Kealix blinked, then looked down at himself. Blood, dirt, soot—his entire body was a grimy canvas of battle and exhaustion. His clothes clung to him with dried sweat and blood, his boots thick with dried mud. Leo wasn't wrong. He hadn't properly eaten in days. He hadn't even had water that wasn't from his own canteen or rainfall. His stomach twisted slightly at the thought of real food.
He let out a tired sigh, his limbs heavy, and began walking toward a quiet, undisturbed section of the lake.
"Hey!" Thalia's voice rang out behind him.
He turned just in time to see something flying through the air.
"Catch!" she called.
Clothes.
They came sailing toward him fast—he barely managed to fumble them into his arms, nearly dropping half of it in the grass. It wasn't graceful, but he caught them.
"Thanks!" he shouted back, lifting one arm with the bundle in awkward gratitude.
She gave a brief nod in return before turning back toward Leo.
Kealix looked down at the folded change of clothes in his hands, then let his gaze drift to his left arm.
Dying Star.
The dull sheen of its metallic surface glinted faintly under the moonlight. It had become a part of him now, a foreign presence fused with his body—one he hadn't even fully accepted yet. The craftsmanship was otherworldly, but...
Was it waterproof?
He turned his gaze to the lake, water still rippling gently from where the serpent had disappeared.
There was only one way to find out.
Kealix stripped off what little clothing he still wore—just a tattered pair of pants clinging to his frame, shredded and crusted with blood and dirt. Nothing else remained. The rest had been lost to battle or the elements, torn away during his many struggles. He stepped into the lake, the water cool and clean against his skin, a sharp contrast to the grime and blood that had clung to him like a second skin for days.
His metallic arm—Dying Star—slipped beneath the surface without resistance. No sparks. No strange vibrations. No seizing or jolting. Just silence.
That's good, Kealix thought, exhaling in relief. He eased deeper into the water, finally letting his body rest fully beneath the surface. The gentle push and pull of the lake cradled him as he lay back, muscles slowly unwinding for the first time in what felt like forever.
He closed his remaining eye, letting the cool weight of the water press against his skin, the sound of the lake filling his ears like a lullaby. But his mind remained active. Questions circled his thoughts like vultures: Why had the beasts been after him? Why was his body changing? What was Dying Star really made for?
I should ask them... when I get back, he thought. Leo, Thalia… They know more than they're saying.
A strange sensation prickled across his upper shoulder. At first, it was faint—like a feather brushing skin, barely there. He ignored it, assuming it was the water or a drifting leaf. But it persisted. Grew stronger. Kealix opened his eye.
Then he saw it.
The tattoo on his shoulder—the icy mark Frost had branded into him—was glowing. A soft, frosted blue light pulsed outward from the lines etched into his skin, shimmering beneath the water like frozen lightning. It wasn't just glowing—it was drawing something in. The water around it seemed to ripple unnaturally, as if pulled by some invisible force.
"What… is it doing?" Kealix murmured, the words barely audible over the soft lap of water.
As if summoned by his voice, the lake stirred again.
The surface trembled—then parted.
From the depths, the great serpent emerged once more.
Its colossal body rose with smooth elegance, silent and deliberate. Droplets slid from its azure-scaled form like falling stars. It didn't look at the camp. It didn't look toward Thalia or Leo. Its gaze was locked solely on him.
Kealix.
He froze.
The serpent's eyes, glowing with that same deep, liquid azure, held his one-eyed stare with unblinking intensity. It wasn't threatening, but the weight of its presence was undeniable—massive, ancient, and incomprehensible.
Kealix didn't know why it was looking at him.
But somehow... he felt seen.
Not just physically, but deeply—like the serpent was gazing past his flesh, through his thoughts, into something deeper. Into his aether. Into his mark.
And the mark was answering.