The forest was breathing.
It wasn't the soft, tranquil rhythm of an untouched woodland — no. It was heavy, trembling, as though the very roots beneath the ground pulsed with the memory of battle. The air was thick with the scent of broken bark, wet soil, and crushed foliage, mingled with the faint metallic tang of spilled blood. The aftershock of power still lingered, radiating outward from a single point — the spot where Heim stood, his weapon Logbuster still half-buried in the earth.
All around him, chaos had given way to silence.The serpent-like roots that had erupted from the ground moments earlier were now coiled around dozens of unconscious barbarians, their bodies tangled in the living vines that writhed faintly as though breathing. Some still struggled weakly, gasping, eyes wide with fear, while others had already fainted, their bodies limp.
The echo of their screams faded into the whisper of the forest wind.
Heim tightened his grip on Logbuster. The ancient wood responded instantly — its surface glowing faintly with veins of greenish light. At his silent command, the roots constricted, their movement producing a chorus of groans and the muffled sound of suffocation. The ground trembled lightly, the forest seemed to lean closer, and for an instant, everything — trees, beasts, even the air — bowed to him.
Then, abruptly, he stopped.
The tightening ceased.The roots froze in place, their pulsating energy calming like the breath of a giant exhaling after a long strain. One by one, they slithered back into the soil, leaving faint grooves in the dirt where they had once coiled. The barbarians fell to the ground, gasping desperately for air, some crawling, others merely panting and trembling.
Heim looked at them, his expression devoid of mercy or anger — only a deep, cold detachment. His green aura still glowed around him, faintly crackling with fragments of pure elemental vitality. In the midst of that aura, his eyes — deep emerald and sharp — carried a wild light, something primal and ancient.
He took a slow breath and spoke, his voice low and steady.
"Go away."
The words weren't shouted, yet they carried a weight that pressed on the heart. Even those who might not understand the language could feel the intent behind them. It wasn't just a command — it was a decree from the forest itself.
For a moment, the primitives hesitated. Then, one by one, fear overtook confusion. They scrambled to their feet, dragging their fainted comrades, retreating into the shadows of the trees. The sound of their footsteps, their ragged breathing, the snapping of branches — all faded quickly as they vanished into the dense jungle.
Soon, only Heim remained.
The forest, once alive with violence, grew eerily still again. The animals that had been hiding — large quadrupeds, feathered beasts, chitin-covered insects — peeked from the shadows. They looked toward Heim from afar but did not approach. They knew instinctively that this was not a creature of prey, not even of their world's balance. He was something else — something they should revere and avoid at the same time.
The faint glow of Logbuster dimmed. Heim exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders. The destruction around him — the torn trees, shattered rocks, and splintered earth — looked like the aftermath of a small-scale natural disaster. It was difficult to imagine that this devastation had been caused by one man and a single weapon of living wood.
Beside him, Flora stirred.
He looked , realizing he was still holding her — his arm wrapped around her legs, supporting her body. Her eyes fluttered open slightly, and for the first time since the battle began, the color in her cheeks deepened, not from exhaustion, but from embarrassment.
Her face was flushed a delicate shade of pink, her breaths shallow. Her emerald hair was tousled, some strands sticking to her face, while her jade-green eyes blinked up at him in surprise and confusion. For a brief instant, she was too startled to speak.
Heim blinked, then, noticing her expression, released his grip immediately. She stumbled slightly when her feet hit the ground, catching herself awkwardly. The sudden distance between them only heightened her awareness of the moment — her heart pounding fast, her hands trembling slightly as she brushed off her dirt-streaked uniform.
Heim crossed his arms, his tone returning to its usual composure. "You're fine," he said, as if that alone dismissed the strangeness of what just happened.
Flora bit her lip lightly, trying to steady her breathing. "I— uh… yes. I think so." Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her effort to sound calm. It was clear she was trying to process both the chaos of the battle and the startling proximity from moments ago.
But before she could regain full composure, Heim's expression shifted. The lightness that had sometimes marked his demeanor — that playful glint in his eyes when he teased or mocked — was gone. What replaced it was quiet intensity, serious, even… ancient.
He turned slightly, facing her fully, and spoke.
"I've felt something strange since the first moment we met," he began slowly, his tone carrying authority. "And I think it's time to confirm it."
Flora blinked, caught off guard by the sudden gravity in his voice. Her instinct told her to brace herself.
He continued, his gaze locking onto hers. "Flora also wields the Jungle Power like me, right?"
The words hung in the air like the weight of a rain before a storm.
For an instant, Flora's breath caught in her throat. Her body stiffened, and her mind went blank. She stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to respond immediately.
Heim didn't move. He just watched — calm, unreadable, but clearly expecting an answer.
Flora's pulse quickened.Her first instinct was to deny, to deflect, to laugh it off — but the depth in his voice, the certainty in his expression, told her that such an attempt would be pointless. He wasn't guessing. He was sure.
The forest around them seemed to listen. A faint breeze stirred the canopy above, making the leaves rustle softly, almost like a whispering choir echoing the tension of the moment. Sunlight filtered through, casting fragmented light across her face, revealing the faint tremor in her lips.
Her thoughts spun wildly. How does he know? I've hidden it… I've used it carefully. No one should sense it—
But then, she realized — of all people, Heim would know.He carried the same energy, the same pulse that resonated deep in her soul whenever she tapped into that wild, ancient power. When their auras had brushed during the battle, she had felt it too — the resonance, like the rhythm of two heartbeats echoing through the roots of the same world-tree.
Still, hearing it said aloud shattered her fragile composure.
Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came. Her eyes darted briefly toward the ground, then back up to him. The green glow that always subtly shimmered beneath her irises flickered faintly — a giveaway she could not suppress.
Heim noticed, of course. He said nothing.
Flora took a small step back, her fingers clutching the hem of her cloak tightly. The color on her face deepened — no longer just embarrassment, but panic, confusion, and the dawning awareness that she had been seen through completely.
"I… I don't…" she began, her voice trembling slightly, but even as she spoke, her body betrayed her. The faint outline of energy, the whisper of the same verdant aura that surrounded Heim earlier, flickered faintly around her — like leaves stirred by a hidden wind.
It was enough.
Heim's gaze sharpened — not in anger, but in recognition.
And Flora froze, realizing that denial was now impossible.
Her breath caught again. The silence between them thickened, the forest once more falling into stillness. The birds had gone quiet. The wind, too, seemed to hesitate, as if nature itself waited for her next move.
Flora's eyes trembled as she looked at him.In her mind, a thousand questions collided — How much does he know? How long has he suspected? What will he do now that he's certain?
She wanted to speak, to explain, to justify. But the words refused to form. All she could do was stand there, her heart pounding, her aura flickering in soft, frightened waves of green light.
The realization dawned on her slowly — this was not just a question of power. It was something more profound. He had sensed something that linked them — something ancient, something buried in both of them since before they met.
And now that it had been named, there was no going back.
Heim stood firm, waiting for an answer. His eyes, though sharp, held no cruelty — only calm certainty.Flora, on the other hand, could only stare back, trembling slightly, her emotions shifting from denial to fear to something quieter — acceptance.
She didn't speak. She didn't need to.Her silence, and the faint shimmer of the green light around her, were all the confirmation he required