The forest finally ended.
Steve didn't notice immediately. It was gradual — the trees spacing out, the gray-green light giving way to lighter gold, the air becoming less dense.
When they took the last step and emerged completely, it was like crossing an invisible wall. The full sun hit Steve like a physical wave. He stopped, closed his eyes, felt the warmth on his skin.
— We survived — Keara said beside him, voice carrying relief.
Steve opened his eyes. Ahead, across undulating plains, rose the walls of Thornvale. It wasn't large. But the gray stone walls rose solid — eight meters high, watchtowers in the corners, flags fluttering showing a coat of arms: golden tree crossed with sword.
Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys. Distant sounds — bells, voices, life.
When they reached the main gate, the guard assessed them carefully.
— Purpose of visit?
— Rest and resupply — Dagon responded. — Maybe work.
The guard observed their state. Weapons. Injuries. Days of dirt.
— Adventurers?
— Yes.
— Where from?
— South. Forest.
The guard stopped. Looked again, this time with respect.
— You crossed the Great Forest?
— We did.
— Entry permitted. Guild is in the central square. Cause problems, prison. Understood?
— Understood.
As soon as they crossed the gate, Steve felt something change. The HUD blinked:
[SAFE ZONE DETECTED]
[PASSIVE REGENERATION: ACTIVATED]
[CONNECTION: 2% (STABLE)]
They entered the streets. It was chaotic but organized. Irregular stone streets. Houses packed together. Shops with signs: blacksmith, alchemist, tavern. Merchants shouting. Children running. Guards patrolling.
— Let's look for an inn — Dagon said. — But first... there's something we need to do.
Steve turned.
— We need answers. About what's happening to you. And about that green-eyed entity.
---
Dagon guided them through side streets to the outskirts. They stopped before a modest house with an herb garden. Strange symbols carved in the doorframes.
— Who lives here? — Steve asked.
— Someone who can help.
Dagon knocked on the door. Minutes later, an elderly woman appeared. White hair in a braid. Skin marked by wrinkles. But the eyes — alert, the kind that saw too much.
— Dagon — she said, voice hoarse but firm. — It's been a while.
— Mireth. I need your help.
She studied the group. Her eyes landed on Steve and remained.
— Come in.
The interior smelled of dried herbs and incense. Shelves packed with books, scrolls, strange objects. Central table with an ancient map.
Mireth didn't offer tea. Just observed Steve with intensity.
— So — she finally said — you saw a Nessira.
It wasn't a question.
— How do you know? — Steve asked.
— Because only someone touched by one of them would have that mark.
She pointed to his chest. Steve looked. Nothing visible. But he felt something burning internally.
— Nessiras... — Mireth continued slowly — I haven't heard that word in decades. I thought they had all been exterminated.
— All?
— Yes. A people who came from a place very far from our central continent. No one knows exactly where they came from. Only that they arrived millennia ago.
She pulled an old book, opened it to an illustration showing humanoid figures but different — bright eyes, living hair.
— When they arrived on the central continent, they established themselves in three specific regions.
She took the map and pointed to three marked locations:
1. Forest of Velerithon (where they had been)
2. Ruins of Caelith (eastern mountains)
3. Abyss of Mor'Dhul (deep south)
— Why those places? — Keara asked.
— Because Nessiras always preferred places with few humans or other species. And mainly... places with much magical instability.
— Instability? — Steve frowned.
— Yes. Where Ley Lines cross chaotically, where magic is wild. Nessiras don't just tolerate this — they thrive in it. They value their privacy greatly. They purposefully choose places where others can't live easily.
Jelím leaned in. — And why were they hunted?
— Because they possess power unknown even to this day. Something even mages couldn't decipher. That power frightened. And what frightens is usually destroyed.
Heavy pause.
— Four hundred years ago, five kingdoms united. Organized the Great Purge. Hunted Nessiras systematically. They were brutal. Complete.
— And it worked? — Dagon asked.
— We thought so. For centuries, no sightings. Until you saw one.
— We did — Steve confirmed. — Hair that changed between black and gray. Bright green eyes. And she's connected to me.
Mireth nodded. — A Nessira's touch isn't physical. It's existential. They mark, create a bond that transcends distance.
— How do I break it?
— I don't know if you can. Nessiras aren't villains as legends paint them. They're not monsters. But they're different. They operate under logic that isn't human. And when they choose someone, there's a reason.
— It wasn't just one — Steve said. — There was another. Without eyes. They called each other sisters.
Mireth paled. — Two? Together?
— Yes.
She walked to the window. — If there were two at that specific location... then they weren't common Nessiras. Those three places aren't just refuges. They're sanctuaries. Where the most ancient chose to reside because magical instability protects their privacy.
She touched the other points on the map. — It's possible there are more in the other sanctuaries. And if they're moving after centuries... something has changed.
— What do I do? — Steve asked.
— Survive. Learn. And when she comes, try to understand what she wants before resisting.
---
They left in silence. Arrived at the inn — "THE RESTED LIONESS". Dagon negotiated rooms.
Steve went up. Small. Bed. Table. Window. But clean.
He sat on the bed. Looked at the HUD:
[CONNECTION: 2%]
[REMAINING DAYS: 173]
He lay down. Closed his eyes.
Sleep came quickly. Accumulated exhaustion finally collecting its price.
And then the vision began.
---
White plain. Infinite. Without horizon.
Steve was standing. Alone.
There was no sound. No wind. Just absolute whiteness stretching in all directions.
Then he saw.
A figure. Distant. Very distant.
Back turned to him.
The hair — black and gray mixed — undulated slightly even without breeze. The white dress contrasted against the surrounding void.
The Nessira.
Steve felt his chest tighten. He didn't know why, but he needed to reach her. Needed to understand.
He began to walk.
Then to run.
His legs moved but the distance didn't decrease. She remained exactly where she was. Motionless. Looking ahead.
— Wait! — Steve shouted.
His voice didn't echo. It was swallowed by the void.
He ran faster. Forced his legs. His heart raced. His breathing burned.
But the Nessira remained distant. Always distant.
She didn't turn. Didn't move. Just existed there, observing something Steve couldn't see.
— Please! — he shouted again. — Tell me what you want!
Nothing.
Steve stumbled. Fell. His hands touched the white ground — solid but without texture.
When he raised his head...
She had disappeared.
---
Steve woke with a start.
Sweating. Gasping. Heart hammering against his ribs.
He looked around frantically. Room. Inn. Thornvale.
Real.
He breathed deeply. Once. Twice. Three times.
He looked at the HUD:
[CONNECTION: 3%]
[REMAINING DAYS: 173]
It had been 2% before sleeping.
She's growing inside me. And I can't stop it.
He stood up. Went to the window. Opened it.
The night air entered cold. Thornvale slept peacefully. Some torches still lit. Guard patrol passing in the distance.
Everything normal.
But Steve knew the truth.
There was no normality. No rest.
Just countdown.
---
[PERSPECTIVE CHANGES]
Far above the surface, an enormous pavilion floated in the skies.
The structure was magnificent — white marble, golden columns, crimson carpets. Three thrones aligned at the back.
On the right, a middle-aged woman sat with regal posture. Brown hair with gray strands pinned in an elaborate bun. Discreet crown. Dark blue dress embroidered with silver threads. The queen.
On the left, a young woman. But different from the kings. Platinum blonde hair falling to her waist. Bright blue eyes that seemed to contain their own light. Pale skin almost translucent. Beauty that was unnatural in its perfection. Immaculate white dress. The princess — but clearly not the royal couple's biological daughter.
In the center, the king. Black hair already graying. Well-groomed beard. Serious brown eyes. More elaborate crown. Presence that commanded respect.
In front of the pavilion, literally floating in the air without touching the ground, was Zenk. Appeared to be in his early twenties. Short blond hair. Intense but emotionless blue eyes. Royal cloak billowing. His hands glowed slightly — active magic keeping the structure suspended. Enigmatic. No one knew where he came from or why he served the crown.
Below, far below, the surface swarmed. Thousands of goblins covered the terrain like a gray-green sea.
On the pavilion, ten people waited. They weren't common adventurers. They were players. Ripped from other worlds, just like Steve and Kuto. Each carrying story, trauma, hope.
Jack — 29 years old, the oldest. Axe on his back, sword at his waist. Square jaw, scars on his face. Natural leadership spirit. Watched the others with protective attention.
Haru — 17 years old, Assassin class. Short black hair, cold eyes. Calm. Calculating. But something obsessive in his gaze when he observed Kuto. Saw in him the brother he had lost. Didn't accept the loss.
Selina — 20 years old, Mage. Red hair tied aggressively. Intense in everything. Fire in her eyes. Preparing to jump.
Romeu — 22 years old, Archer. Messy blond hair. Handsome and knew it. Trembled visibly but tried to hide it. Womanizer when not terrified.
Sônia — 16 years old, Sorceress. Brown hair in braids. Animated smile even facing danger. Contagious energy that irritated some but comforted others.
Célia — 28 years old, Healer. Light brown hair tied in a low ponytail. Too shy to lead but competent when necessary. Hands already glowing slightly, prepared to heal.
Gunja — 20 years old, Paladin. Black skin glistening with sweat. Heavy armor. Shield on his back. Serious but determined expression.
Dimitri — 18 years old, Elemental. Selina's brother. Red hair same as hers. Playful even in a test moment. Made nervous joke that no one laughed at.
Sensi — 19 years old, Manipulator. Straight black hair to shoulders. Serene face. Quiet. Observed everything but spoke little. When she smiled, it was genuine but rare.
And Kuto — already known. Short black hair. Cold eyes. Relaxed but alert posture. Different from everyone.
Zenk turned to them.
— You may jump to the surface — he said, voice clear but emotionless. — I will use my magic to make you land safely.
Jack took a step forward. — Remember the plan. We maintain formation. Protect Célia in the center.
The king stood up. Walked to the edge.
— Let your test to become Royal Guards begin.
Jack was first. Jumped without hesitation. Golden glow enveloped him, slowing the fall.
Sônia went right after, shouting with excitement. Gunja. Sensi silently. Célia nervous but steady.
Haru stopped beside Kuto for a second.
— Don't die — he said simply. — I need... you.
Kuto didn't respond. Haru jumped.
Selina was preparing when Romeu froze.
— I... I can't...
— Oh, to hell with it.
She kicked him in the butt.
Romeu flew screaming desperately. The magic caught him anyway.
Selina jumped laughing. Dimitri right after.
Only Kuto remained.
He opened the HUD:
USER: Kuto Yamakazi
CLASS: Adaptable
LEVEL: 18
HP: 100/100
STAMINA: 300/350
MANA: 400/400
He checked. Closed.
He turned.
Looked directly at the princess.
She watched him. Not with common curiosity. But with recognition. As if she saw something in him that others didn't see.
For a second, their gazes met.
There was no smile. No wave.
Just mutual understanding.
Kuto turned back to the edge.
Damned moment I decided to stay with these guys.
But then he thought of the two people who mattered.
But I'll remain if it helps me with my goals.
He breathed deeply.
And launched himself.