THE STORY CONTINUES.
Chapter — Between Bells and Breaths
Stone ceiling.
Warmth.
Hands holding him down.
"Easy," someone said urgently. "Don't move."
Armin's vision swam as reality forced itself back into place. The smell was different now—cleaner. Herbs. Healing salves. Smoke from controlled fire, not massacre.
He was not in the mountain base.
He was lying on a bed in Fantasia.
Simon sat beside him, armor dented, eyes hollow with exhaustion. Alfred stood near the wall, arms crossed, face grim. Yorin hovered anxiously, while a man in white-and-blue robes murmured incantations, hands glowing faint green.
"Healer Mathew," Alfred said quietly. "You collapsed at the wall."
Armin's hands clenched the sheets.
"The flute," he whispered. "Did you hear it?"
Silence answered him.
Simon exchanged a glance with Alfred. "There was no flute," Simon said carefully. "You screamed and fell unconscious."
Armin's pulse spiked. "The village. The smoke. The thing that killed Leon—it looked at me."
Mathew finished his spell and stepped back. "Your mana channels are scorched," he said uneasily. "Not from casting. From resistance."
"Resistance to what?" Yorin asked.
Mathew hesitated. "Something trying to enter."
The room went still.
Alfred straightened. "Explain."
The healer swallowed. "It felt like… a call. Not a curse. A summoning that failed."
Armin turned his head slowly toward the window.
Outside, the town walls stood calm. Guards patrolled. Life continued—ignorant of how close the abyss had leaned in.
"They're connected," Armin said quietly. "The swamp. The bell. The moon world."
Simon frowned. "You're saying this wasn't just a vision?"
Armin closed his eyes.
"I didn't dream," he said. "I traveled."
Yorin's voice trembled. "That's impossible."
"So was Leon," Armin replied.
Alfred moved closer. "What did you see?"
Armin took a long breath and told them everything.
The sectors. The slaughter. The black castle. The singer's child.
When he finished, no one spoke for a long time.
Finally, Alfred broke the silence. "If what you say is true… then whatever is moving has already crossed worlds."
Simon clenched his fists. "Then we don't wait."
Yorin looked pale. "If this reaches the town—"
"It won't," Armin said.
They all looked at him.
He sat up slowly, pain rippling through his body—but his eyes were clear now.
Focused.
"I won't let it," he said. "Not again."
Alfred studied him. "You're planning something."
"Yes."
"What?"
Armin looked at his hands.
"In that world," he said, "magic doesn't answer me. Mana is silent. Qi is gone."
Simon frowned. "Then how did you survive?"
Armin's fingers tightened. "By learning that power doesn't always come from within."
He looked up.
"It can be built."
A pause.
"I can't cast," he continued. "But I can carve. I can forge. Runes still respond—to intent, not mana."
Alfred's eyes narrowed with interest. "Rune enhancement without active magic…"
"It's dangerous," Armin said. "Unstable. One mistake and the weapon kills the wielder."
Simon smiled grimly. "Sounds about right."
Armin swung his legs off the bed. "I need materials. Time. And permission."
Yorin swallowed. "Permission for what?"
"For a hunt," Armin said.
Outside, a bell rang in the distance.
Not loud.
Not close.
But real.
And this time—
Everyone heard it.
TO BE CONTINUED.