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Chapter 3 - [CHAPTER 3] - Inherited Will

"Sara!"

Nebula's voice tore through the cool night air as he jolted upright, his breath ragged, his chest rising and falling in sharp gasps. His pulse pounded in his ears, his fingers instinctively reaching for something—someone—who was no longer there.

His surroundings were unfamiliar. Soft, silken sheets draped over him, contrasting with the cool stone beneath his fingertips. He could hear the rustling of leaves as a cool breeze passed through the encampment. The smell of burning wood assailed the air, mixed with the faint traces of herbs. The surrounding was bathed in a gentle golden glow, flickering from the crackling campfire that lingered nearby. It felt… warm. Safe.

But his mind was still drowning in the echoes of loss.

"Hey, hey. Relax. You're safe now."

The soft, melodic voice beside him cut through his disoriented thoughts. His vision, still hazy, settled on a figure at his bedside. For a fleeting moment, his heart clenched—Sara?

But as his sight cleared, so did the illusion.

Instead of his loyal guardian, he found himself staring at a stunning young woman—perhaps in her early twenties—with golden blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes a piercing shade of ruby. She possessed an almost ethereal presence, as if she herself were carved from the light that illuminated the surrounding.

Confusion gripped him.

"You're not Sara… Who are you? Where am I? What happened to Sara?" His voice was hoarse, laced with both panic and grief as his gaze darted across the area, searching for the one soul that mattered most.

A sharp scoff broke the moment.

"Look, you ungrateful brat!"

The second voice was sharp and impatient, cutting through the calm like a blade. Nebula turned to see another woman—this one with long, brunette hair and an expression twisted in irritation. Her arms were crossed, her emerald-green eyes burning with annoyance.

"You should be expressing gratitude rather than whining like a child!" She huffed. "Had Her Royal Highness not healed you, you'd have been dining in the afterlife—"

"—Manners, Laria!"

The blonde girl's voice turned firm, a quiet authority lacing her words. "That's not how you speak to a stranger."

The brunette—Laria—immediately stiffened, her irritation replaced with guilt. With a reluctant bow of her head, she muttered, "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"It's fine. You may return to your duties." The blonde responded with a soft smile before shifting her gaze back to Nebula.

Laria gave one final glance at Nebula—something between frustration and reluctant concern flickering in her eyes—before she turned on her heel and headed for the tent, her boots echoing against the mud.

As she left their presence, silence settled between Nebula and the blonde woman.

"Pardon my assistant," the blonde girl started with a gentle smile. "She can be a little shy and distrustful sometimes, especially toward strangers."

The warmth in the girl's voice was a stark contrast to Laria's earlier hostility. She extended a delicate yet graceful hand toward Nebula, her golden hair shimmering softly in the firelight.

"By the way, I'm Naritsa."

Nebula hesitated for a moment, still trying to piece together his scattered memories. But then, he reached out and clasped her hand firmly. Her touch was warm, steady—comforting in a way he hadn't expected.

"I… Nice to meet you, Naritsa. I'm Nebula," he replied, his voice calm but laced with lingering confusion.

As he released her hand, he instinctively ran his fingers over his arms and torso, expecting to find cuts, bruises—any evidence of the injuries he was sure he'd sustained. But there was nothing. Not even a scar. His skin was smooth, unblemished, as if he'd never been wounded in the first place.

His breath hitched in surprise. "So… you saved my life?" He looked up at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Are you some kind of healing magician?"

Naritsa nearly chuckled at the suggestion, amused by his assumption. "You're a funny one," she mused, her lips curling into an entertained smirk.

Then, with a single snap of her fingers, the air around them shifted with an ethereal glow. A gust of wind stirred the leaves, and from the shifting light emerged a creature so magnificent it seemed almost unreal. It was nothing short of majestic—a tall and powerful unicorn with a pure white coat shimmering under the soft glow of the campfire. Its spiraled silver horn gleamed like polished metal, radiating an aura so overwhelming that Nebula could feel its presence pressing against him like an unseen force.

"Meet Lila—my guardian," Naritsa introduced. "She's a myth-level beast, and your recovery was only thanks to her."

Nebula could do nothing but stare in awe.

Even without a direct display of power, he could tell—Lila was far beyond anything he had ever encountered.

More powerful than Sara.

More terrifying than the rare-level Smilodon that had tried to kill him.

Myth-level beasts were fantastic creatures, spoken of only in old tales. And yet, one stood before him now.

Regaining his composure, Nebula exhaled slowly, nodding toward both Lila and Naritsa. "Thank you… I owe you—."

But just as the words left his lips, a painful realization struck him.

Sara.

His heart clenched, his breath catching in his throat. Since waking up, he had yet to see her. A dreadful thought gnawed at him, tightening its grip around his chest as he turned back to Naritsa and her guardian.

"Please… did you encounter Sara?"

Naritsa's expression shifted slightly, intrigue flashing across her face. "You've been mentioning her a lot," she noted, tilting her head. "Who is she to you?"

Nebula clenched his fists, steadying his voice. "Sara is… she's my guardian beast. But more than that, she's family." His eyes darkened as he recalled the last thing he remembered. "Before everything went black, she was confronting a Smilodon on my behalf."

At the mention of the Smilodon, Naritsa's expression shifted, a flicker of unease passing through her eyes.

"A Smilodon?" she repeated, her gaze turning thoughtful. "I'm sorry, but… you were alone when I found you."

Nebula's stomach dropped.

Alone? That wasn't possible. Sara had been right there. She had fought for him. She had—

"...Or could it be," Naritsa's voice softened, her expression turning solemn, "that your guardian beast was absorbed?"

Nebula's heart pounded in his chest, his mind spiraling into chaos. Naritsa's words clawed at his thoughts, forcing him to relive that last, harrowing moment—Sara, fading away… the Smilodon's greed as it devoured her essence… the agonized roar that followed.

What did it truly mean when a guardian beast was absorbed?

Was Sara gone forever?

If so, then why was he still here—alive, breathing, and even fully healed?

A sharp pang of dread settled in his gut. He clenched his fists, his voice coming out hoarse and shaken.

"This realm… Jebaddon Island… what is it really about?"

Naritsa blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "You don't know?" A flicker of curiosity crossed her face before shifting into mild suspicion. "Then how did you even end up here?"

Nebula exhaled heavily, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his emotions in check. "Sara and I… we were on the run." His voice was laced with exhaustion, but also something heavier—grief. "We had no choice. The enemy was closing in, and this place… we stumbled upon it by chance."

His throat burned as he swallowed hard, forcing back the tears threatening to surface.

Naritsa nodded, a flicker of understanding and sympathy passing through her deep ruby eyes. She sighed, shifting her stance as she prepared to explain.

"The Jebaddon Island…" She paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words. "This realm exists for one purpose—to replace and strengthen."

Nebula stiffened, his breath shallow as he listened.

"Hosts who enter this realm do so to discard their current guardians in exchange for something stronger. The process is simple," Naritsa continued, her voice steady but laced with an underlying weight. "They allow their guardian beasts to be absorbed by the higher-ranked creatures of Jebaddon. In doing so, the host inherits new strength—greater power than they could ever achieve otherwise."

Nebula froze, his blood running cold.

The words hit him like a hammer to the chest.

Was this why Sara had let herself be devoured?

Had she sacrificed herself—not just to protect him—but to make him stronger?

His body trembled, his nails digging into his palms. "She… she did this for me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He never asked for this.

He never wanted power if it meant losing her.

All he had ever wished for was to fight beside her, to have her at his side until the very end.

Desperation and fear churned inside Nebula's chest as he clenched his fists, his pulse beating in his ears. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind racing with a single, agonizing question—who was his guardian now?

Was it still Sara… or had he truly lost her forever?

Gritting his teeth, he forced his aura to surge forth. A deep, powerful energy erupted around him like a raging tide, sending gusts of wind spiraling through the darkened forest. The once-gentle crackling of the campfire flared violently, casting eerie, flickering shadows against the surrounding trees. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick with raw, unfiltered anticipation.

Naritsa stood a few feet away, her ruby eyes gleaming with curiosity, while Laria—who had just returned—watched intently, her usual skepticism replaced with intrigue. Neither spoke. Neither moved. They simply waited.

And then—it happened.

A swirling vortex of dark mist formed before Nebula, distorting the air with an ominous hum. The ground trembled beneath them as a huge figure materialized within the spiraling energy. The moment the beast's form took shape, the crackling firelight revealed what now stood before them.

Nebula's stomach churned. His heart dropped.

Towering over them all, its fur a dark shade of gold, was the Smilodon.

Not Sara.

The Smilodon.

A deafening silence engulfed the camp.

Nebula's breath hitched, his veins flooding with fury and grief. His vision blurred—not from exhaustion, but from sheer, unrelenting rage. His fingers twitched as his body acted on instinct. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, grabbing a burning piece of wood from the fireside. Flames licked up the length of the makeshift weapon, illuminating his shaking hands as he brandished it toward the beast.

"You—!" His voice was raw, broken, venomous. His grip tightened, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.

But then… the unthinkable happened.

The Smilodon, the very creature that had consumed Sara, lowered its head in a deep bow.

The beast's emerald eyes, once filled with primal ferocity, now gleamed with something completely unexpected—reverence.

And then, it spoke—its voice deep, gravelly, yet strangely… familiar.

"Welcome back, my lord. I am honored to be of service."

The words slammed into Nebula's mind like a collapsing mountain. His breath caught in his throat, his entire body freezing in place. The flames from the burning wood crackled, flickering wildly as if mimicking his spiraling emotions.

This can't be real. This isn't happening.

His fingers went numb, and the burning wood slipped from his grasp, falling to the dirt with a soft hiss. The weight of reality crashed over him like a tidal wave, suffocating, unbearable.

His chest tightened, his legs growing weak beneath him. He couldn't stay. He couldn't face this. He couldn't accept this.

So he ran.

Before anyone could react, Nebula turned on his heel and sprinted into the dark embrace of the forest.

Away from the fire. Away from Naritsa. Away from that thing.

The shadows swallowed him whole, his vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall. His breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts as he ducked between the towering trees, branches clawing at his skin like ghostly hands trying to pull him back.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care. He just needed to get away.

The Smilodon hesitated only for a moment before instinctively giving chase, its powerful limbs propelling it forward.

And Naritsa, watching the heartbreaking scene unfold, knew she couldn't let him face this alone.

Her eyes widened in concern. "Nebula—!" she called after him, preparing to sprint into the trees.

But before she could follow, she turned back to Laria, her voice urgent. "Stay here and guard the camp. If anything happens, signal me."

Laria nodded. "Understood, your highness," she said, settling into a defensive stance as Naritsa turned and disappeared into the forest, following the path Nebula had fled.

***

Nebula collapsed against the tree, his body trembling as grief wracked his soul. The rough bark pressed into his forehead, but he hardly felt it—his mind was drowning in sorrow, his chest tightening with unbearable loss.

"How could you do this to me?" his voice broke, the words escaping between ragged sobs. His fingers dug into the damp earth beneath him.

"How dare you leave me on my own?"

His cries echoed softly through the dense forest, swallowed by the vastness of the night. The gentle rustling of leaves were the only sounds that accompanied his mourning.

Then, a warmth pressed against his shoulder.

A delicate, yet firm touch.

Nebula flinched slightly, his sorrow-clouded eyes slowly shifting to see Naritsa kneeling beside him. Her expression was soft, her golden hair faintly illuminated by the silver glow of the moon.

"Don't be disheartened, Nebula," she whispered, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "What Sara did, she did it to protect you."

Her words held understanding—compassion that wrapped around him like a fragile thread, barely strong enough to keep him from unraveling completely.

Meanwhile, the Smilodon, standing a few feet away, silently observed its grieving master. There was no pride, no dominance—only quiet acknowledgment. Recognizing Nebula's pain, the beast's form shimmered like mist in the moonlight, slowly fading back into the void, leaving its master to grieve in peace.

Nebula's body shook harder, his heart torn between love and loss.

Then, Naritsa opened her arms.

"Come here…"

Without hesitation, Nebula collapsed into her embrace, clutching onto her as if she were the last anchor to reality. His sobs grew louder, raw and unfiltered, his pain unmasked in the quiet sanctity of her arms.

Naritsa held him tightly, offering warmth, offering solace. She gently stroked his back, her grip firm yet tender, grounding him in the moment.

"You have a legacy to craft now," she murmured softly. "And know that I'll do what I can to see it through with you."

Her voice was a vow, steady and unwavering.

******

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