Meruem rushed forward the instant Komugi's body gave in, her legs buckling as if the strength holding her upright had vanished all at once. Edrin barely managed to catch her before she collapsed completely, his arms closing around her fragile frame.
"She's burning up," Edrin said tensely. "Her forehead is scorching. I don't know what happened… she just collapsed without warning."
Meruem knelt beside them without hesitation. He placed two fingers gently against Komugi's forehead. The heat that radiated from her skin was unnatural, almost painful. A sharp sensation ran through him—not physical, but something deeper. Seeing her like this, silent and defenseless, tore at something inside him. His heart, which he had long believed to be forged solely for dominance and calculation, tightened violently. For a brief moment, he was lost, unable to speak, desperately searching for a way to ease the suffering reflected on her face.
Aldebran watched from a short distance away, saying nothing. His sharp gaze followed every movement Meruem made, as if he were witnessing a phenomenon he had not yet fully understood.
Meruem slowly took Komugi's hand. Her palm was warm, her fingers trembling faintly. He turned it upward with extreme care, as though handling something on the verge of breaking. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his aura thinning until it was barely perceptible. In a low, steady voice, he spoke:
"Royal Inspection Art: Silent Meridian Trace."
A subtle pulse of Nen flowed through his fingertips. Invisible lines formed in the air just above Komugi's skin, following the natural paths of her energy. After a brief moment, Meruem spoke again, his voice calm but heavy.
"This ability allows me to briefly inspect a person's Nen acupuncture points. Komugi is stable—for now. But if she remains in this state much longer, it will worsen. She has suffered what humans call a Nen fracture. It occurs when the essence of one's Nen mixes with a far stronger aura without sufficient protection."
He slowly raised his head. His eyes met Aldebran's, unwavering.
"She must be treated. Immediately."
Silence fell over the room, thick and oppressive. Even the walls seemed to listen.
"And where can she be treated?" Meruem asked, already preparing himself to move.
Aldebran exhaled slowly and stepped forward. There was something unsettling about him—an air of endless knowledge, as if time itself had little claim over him.
"I was about to explain," he said. "At the Port of Mitene, there lives an old seer. Her mastery of Nen is ancient. No illness tied to aura has ever escaped her understanding. She has witnessed generations of practitioners rise and fall. If anyone can restore Komugi's Nen balance, it is her."
He paused, his voice lowering.
"The child is suffering deeply."
Meruem nodded without hesitation and turned to Edrin.
"We leave at once."
Edrin straightened.
"I'll have the cargo loaded immediately."
Orders were given without delay. Receptionists, merchants, guards—everyone moved at once, their actions precise and efficient. Crates of rare books were carefully secured onto the backs of Kiriko, magical beasts with the powerful bodies of lions and the heads of birds. Their massive wings unfolded with a solemn rustle, as if they sensed the urgency of the moment.
The Kiriko let out deep, resonant cries as preparations were completed.
Before the convoy departed Valmeris, Aldebran approached Meruem one last time. From within his coat, he produced a small black box engraved with ancient symbols and pressed it into Meruem's hand.
"Take this," he said. "You may not open it now… but the time will come."
Meruem accepted it without a word. Their gazes locked briefly, heavy with unspoken understanding.
The journey back to the camp was tense and silent. Upon arrival, Edrin quickly explained the situation to the merchants, all of whom had returned with their goods ready. One of them, oblivious to the gravity of the moment, began recounting one of his adventures:
"You should've seen it," he laughed. "A negotiation that went completely sideways. The man tried to trade me three crates of fruit for a rare grimoire! I thought he was joking, but then he brought his cousins to pressure me—"
He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the strained expressions around him. Edrin raised a hand, cutting him off.
"This is not the time."
Without further explanation, the merchants understood. With practiced gestures born from years on dangerous roads, they secured the cargo, reinforced the wagons, and checked every harness. The camp was dismantled with remarkable speed.
Slowly, the great structure of Valmeris—the legendary library hidden among colossal trees—began to fade from sight. Roots, foliage, and shadows swallowed it whole, as if the city itself refused to be carried into the outside world. Valmeris vanished, returning to myth and whisper.
Inside one of the wagons, Meruem sat beside Komugi. Her head rested against folded blankets, her breathing faint but steady. Meruem did not look away. He watched her constantly, alert to the smallest change.
He placed a hand near his chest, feeling his own Nen stir weakly. Since his awakening, he had consumed almost nothing. His body—now suspended between two natures, neither fully Chimera nor fully human—demanded energy. The battles, the repeated use of his abilities, had drained him far more than he wished to admit.
And yet, he remained still, keeping watch.
Outside, Aldebran observed the convoy as it began to move. A single thought echoed in his mind.
He held his ground… even with his aura divided.
He here that with Aldebran, he talked to him before the live in another room of the library discreetly and calling him to be in his guard.
He wondered what Meruem would ultimately become. When the time came to choose, would he recognize himself as human—or as Chimera Ant?
The Kiriko took flight, carrying with them books, secrets, and entwined destinies. The road to Mitene lay ahead, uncertain and unforgiving.
Inside the wagon, Meruem gently tightened his grip around Komugi's hand.
The future was unclear.
And for the first time in a long while, even the king could not foresee what awaited him.