Coker walked through the damp forest, deeper than before, where the trees grew taller than towers and their branches blocked out most of the sky. His clothes were torn. His hands still shook from the fight in the temple. But his eyes… they were clearer now.
Every step felt heavy. Not because of the path, but because of what he was carrying inside.
Memories. Pieces. Flashes of things that didn't belong to him.
A blade of stars.
A girl laughing beside a black lake.
A crown of ash.
He didn't understand them, not yet. But they followed him like ghosts.
---
In the nearby town of Mirden, a place of hunters and wanderers, whispers had already begun.
"Did you hear?" a man asked at the inn.
"A boy passed through the Dead Forest and came out alive."
"Must be a lie."
"Maybe. But I heard he fought something. Left a whole temple in ruins."
"Only demons do that."
"He had no aura. No rank. Just a mark on his chest."
The room fell quiet.
Then someone said softly, "The Devourer?"
The innkeeper crossed himself. "That name's cursed."
---
Meanwhile, Coker stopped at a riverbank.
He looked into the water and didn't see his own face.
He saw a man's face—his, but older. Eyes like storms. A scar down his cheek. And in that reflection, he saw a battlefield behind him.
When he blinked, it was gone.
He knelt and splashed water on his face. But it didn't cool him down.
Because the heat wasn't outside—it was coming from inside.
The mark on his chest was glowing again.
Then, a voice echoed from within him.
**"Find the Mirror of Souls."**
Coker froze.
"What?" he whispered.
The voice repeated: **"Find the Mirror. Or you'll lose yourself."**
And then it was gone.
---
Miles away, in the Tower of White Flame, the oracle stood before a burning scroll. Her face pale. Her lips trembling.
"The boy has awakened another piece," she said.
A knight in silver armor stepped forward. "Do we stop him?"
She shook her head. "We can't. Not yet. He must find the mirror. Or the world will burn."
---
Coker followed the river until it led him to an old cave. The entrance was marked with faded runes, symbols that looked like eyes and wings.
As he stepped inside, the air turned cold. Too cold.
He lit a torch and walked slowly. The cave twisted like a serpent. At every corner, he felt like someone was watching.
Then… he found it.
A chamber.
A stone pedestal in the center.
And on that pedestal—a mirror.
But it wasn't made of glass. It looked like liquid metal, always shifting, like it was alive.
He stepped forward.
"Is this it?" he whispered.
As soon as he touched the surface, a shock ran through him.
His mind split.
He was standing in a war again. His hands glowing. He shouted commands. Armies moved at his word.
Then—
He was kneeling before a grave.
Then—
He was screaming as someone he loved fell into darkness.
Then—
He was back. In the cave. Gasping. Sweating.
The mirror pulsed.
And this time, it showed one word:
**"Remember."**
As he left the cave, snow had started to fall.
He didn't know where he was going. But his feet moved anyway.
Because now… the memories weren't just flashes. They were voices. And they wanted to be heard.
In the dark sky above, a red star blinked.
And far away, a young man with black wings sat on a throne of bones. He looked up. Smiled.
"Come home, Devourer," he said. "The game has begun."