The sun was rising on the horizon like a greeting; its golden rays gently illuminated the wreckage deep within the forest. The shadows of the trees danced over the ashes of burnt wood and scattered stones. This place, once a dilapidated orphanage, was now as silent as a grave. The Capital Guard Unit of the Kingdom moved around the ruins like a ghostly army. Their black armor shimmered coldly in the morning light; their faces remained hidden behind dark helmets. Each of them moved with the precision of a machine, and the silence of a shadow. The unit leader bent over his gray communicator strap and reported to the center in a metallic voice.
"Yes, sir, the anomaly has been successfully suppressed," he said, his voice muffled and mechanical from inside the armor. "But we encountered a heretic here. The body has already turned to ash. What shall we do?"
The strap came to life with a slight vibration; the voice on the other end was cold and authoritative. "Was it a child?"
"Yes, sir," the guard replied. "The soul root is heavy, and the dantian is completely destroyed. The cultivation resources are not in a retrievable state. The technique used is unknown. We couldn't fully comprehend it." He paused, then added, "Also, sir, we could not fully determine the source of the anomaly."
A strange hissing sound rose from the gray strap—filled with irritation and impatience, almost like the hiss of a snake. "Very well then," the voice said, with a sharp command. "Leave him there. Clean the wreckage and dismantle the arrays. Return to the capital quickly, the central command will assign you new missions."
The strap clicked off. Out of habit, the guard responded, "As you command," his voice echoing in the void and merging with the forest's silence.
The remains of the orphanage carried the sorrow of a battlefield. Ashes of burnt wood were scattered by the wind; the stone fragments covered the traces of the courtyard where children once ran. The guards worked with ruthless and efficient precision. Corpses were packed into black bags and loaded onto carts. The wreckage was cleared as if the place had never existed. The forest, like a greedy creature, extended its branches to fill the void. Within hours, the area was reforested; young saplings were planted over the ashes, as if neither an orphanage nor a tragedy had ever existed on this land. But one body remained.
Lior's ashen corpse lay in the arms of the forest like a forgotten shadow.
Some time later
Sunlight barely reached the ground, filtering through the dense trees of the forest. In this wild, untouched place where people rarely dared to go, the wind whispered gently among the branches. Deep in the forest, a young woman wandered alone. In her hand was a crumpled piece of paper, and her eyes scanned the surroundings carefully. Her dark green robe rippled in the shade of the leaves; her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. She muttered while looking at the paper, as if she were a treasure hunter sniffing the earth, the trees, even the air. She collected herbs, roots, and strange glowing mushrooms, carefully placing them in a small leather pouch.
Suddenly, she stopped. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she slightly lifted her head to sniff the air. "Hmmm," she murmured, her voice echoing through the forest like a shadow. "Royal Qi… This is not a natural formation." She knelt down, pressing her fingers into the soil. The ground felt different from a regular forest floor; a faint vibration, like a heartbeat, was felt at her fingertips. She looked around, inspecting the shadows among the trees. Then, for a moment, she closed her eyes. A strange aura surrounded her body; a purple mist rippled around her robe. The woman murmured incomprehensible words in a low voice. The air itself trembled, as if a curtain was being torn apart. She passed through this invisible door.
Before her stretched a scene of massacre. The orphanage ruins stood like a forgotten wound of time. Shattered stone walls, dried blood stains, charred wooden fragments… The air was heavy with the scent of death and destruction. The wind gently scattered the ashes, as if whispering the tragedy of this place. The woman stepped carefully, examining the wreckage. Her fingers ran over a piece of stone; she touched the bloodstains and frowned. "This… is not an ordinary fire," she murmured. Her eyes scanned the area with a hunter's sharpness. As she walked from the back of the ruins to the front, she saw something lying on the ground. A charred body lay in the forest's embrace like a forgotten statue.
The woman ran toward the corpse. She knelt, letting her hands hover over the charred body. A purple aura spread from her fingers, enveloping the body like mist to check its condition. "He's alive," she said, her voice a mix of astonishment and curiosity. "But it's strange… His body seems to have entered a self-protection mode." Her eyes traced the surface of the scorched body, as if trying to solve a riddle. "I'm alone anyway," she whispered, a slight smile on her lips. "It'd be nice to have someone around."
The woman raised her hands. The purple aura swelled like a wave, gently lifting the charred body into the air. The body floated like a weightless feather. The woman once again parted the air; the veil of reality bent to her will. They left the ruins and returned to the forest's silence.
With the body, the woman headed to a deeper corner of the forest. She reached the entrance of a strange cave. The cave appeared as part of nature, but the stones were too smooth, the entrance too precise. It had been made by human hands, but with a mastery that mimicked nature. The woman murmured a few words in a low voice; the stone door opened with a creak. She entered with the body. The cave was cool and damp; the walls glowed faintly with luminescent crystals. The woman placed the herbs and mushrooms she had gathered on a stone table, then carried the corpse on her shoulder down into the depths of the cave.
On the lower level, a strange sight awaited her. A pool filled with a yellow, viscous liquid gleamed on the floor. The liquid rippled slightly, as if it were alive; a faint energy vibration could be felt on its surface. The woman gently placed the charred corpse into the liquid. With her long, slender nails, she prodded the body several times; each touch caused the liquid to ripple slightly, as if in response. She leaned in and whispered into the corpse's ear:"Even if you don't want to wake up, you must. I know you're still alive."