The forest stretched endlessly around them, a vast ocean of trees whispering with the wind. Shafts of golden light fell between thick canopies, dappling the moss-covered ground. The quiet was unusual—too quiet.
Om, Dev, and Dawon had been walking side by side until Dev suddenly took the lead, his rugged claymore slung across his shoulder. His step carried a new eagerness, even after weeks of malnourishment. He lifted his head, eyes glinting with determination.
"I'll help you kill the rest of the monsters you need, Om," Dev declared with a confident grin.
"You said you needed 1216 more? Then let's finish this together."
He began striding forward through the brush, branches snapping under his boots, expecting Om and Dawon to follow.
But silence answered.
Dev stopped, turned his head back, and frowned. "What's wrong? Are you not committing?"
Om stood still, one hand resting lightly on Dawon's mane. His eyes were calm, almost amused. "I have a better plan."
Dev raised an eyebrow. "Better than slaughtering through packs the old way? What could that be?"
Before he could demand more, Dawon suddenly crouched, muscles coiling like drawn steel. A faint golden aura shimmered around his body, Sanskrit inscriptions glowing along his claws and mane. The next instant, the lion leapt—yet not forward.
He soared.
Dev's jaw dropped. Dawon's paws pressed against thin air itself, as though the sky were solid ground. With each step he climbed higher, the forest shrinking beneath them. Om sat firmly on Dawon's back, balanced with a relaxed grace that betrayed practice.
"Come on," Om called back to Dev. "We'll reach your hunting ground much faster this way."
Dev blinked, stunned. "Wait… what?!"
Before he could argue, Dawon dipped lower and swept Dev up with one powerful swing of his tail, tossing him cleanly onto his broad back. Dev barely had time to scream before the wind rushed past his face. He clutched Om's shoulder, knuckles white.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" he shouted, the force of air nearly ripping his voice away.
Om only smiled faintly, his hair whipping around his face. "Flying."
Dev could hardly believe it. He had once seen cultivators soar through the skies with wings of flame or clouds of wind, but to ride on the back of a beast was a new experience for him—it was something that broadened his imagination without realisation.
As Dawon bounded through the air, each pawstep rippled faint golden light beneath him, Dev's initial terror faded into exhilaration. The forest sped by beneath them, rivers twisting like silver snakes, cliffs rising and falling like the ribs of the world.
"Unbelievable…" Dev whispered, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Flying… it's actually flying." He laughed aloud, voice breaking with boyish joy.
Om sat quietly, watching the forest pass below, his expression unreadable.
.
.
.
.
It took only minutes before Dawon descended, landing atop a jagged plateau overlooking a massive cliff. The sudden stop nearly threw Dev forward, but he managed to hold onto Dawon's mane, panting as though he'd run miles.
"This…" Dev muttered, looking down at the abyss below. "This is the place. My hunting ground."
He spread his arms wide, as if showing off some great monument.
Om scanned the area. The cliff stretched endlessly in both directions, its face sheer and jagged, disappearing into mist far below. The air here was sharp, filled with the faint cry of winds.
Dev turned to Om, his tone half-proud, half-exasperated. "Do you know how long it took to get there from here on foot? Fifteen days. Fifteen! Yet your beast covered the same distance in less than ten minutes. Flying is cheating."
Om chuckled softly. "Not cheating. Just another kind of strength." He placed a hand on Dev's shoulder, his eyes glinting knowingly. "You inherited Wind and Flame, didn't you? With proper control, you might be able to soar like Dawon one day too."
Dev froze, his mouth slightly open. Wind and Flame—the twin blessings he received from the Monolith during the inheritance ceremony. He had always thought of them as just raw combat power, nothing more. The thought of riding wind itself, of rising into the sky…
His chest swelled with possibility. "You think I could—"
A sharp voice cut across his thought.
"Correction, Master," Zero's voice echoed in Om's mind, cold and precise. "So far in this journey, we have not encountered a single beast. Neither alive nor freshly slain. The forest is… empty."
Om's expression hardened. He looked over the cliffside. Not a single cry, not a rustle, not the faintest sign of predator or prey. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
"I noticed," Om replied under his breath.
Dev frowned, unaware of Zero's input. "Why are you staring like that?"
Om turned back to him. "Show me the trap you used to lure monsters before. Let's see if it still works."
Dev's face brightened, eager to demonstrate his cunning. "Fine, watch carefully."
Om reached into his pouch, pulling out one of the remaining food pills. He tossed it to Dev, who caught it with both hands, grinning.
"This will do. One pill is enough."
He walked toward the cliff's edge with a familiar swagger, then crushed the pill between his palms. The powder dissolved instantly into the air, releasing a rich fragrance. It wasn't just pleasant—it was overwhelming, a surge of nutrients condensed into aroma. Even Dawon could feel his body respond faintly to the scent, his cells stirring.
Dev dusted off his palms and clapped. "Now we wait. The smell will spread for miles. If there are beasts, they'll come. They always do."
Om crossed his arms, watching silently. Dawon lay down, tail flicking, golden eyes fixed on the surrounding forest.
Minutes passed. The wind shifted, carrying the fragrance deeper into the valley.
Hours slipped by.
And yet—silence.
Not a single growl. Not a single crunch of leaves. The forest remained still as stone.
Dev's smile faltered. He glanced left, then right. "This… this is strange. They should've come by now." His voice cracked with unease.
Om's eyes narrowed. "That's because there's nothing here."
The words struck heavier than any roar.
The cliff of silence stretched before them, a graveyard without bones. The emptiness was louder than chaos itself.