At the same time…
Ballock was breathing heavily after escaping the clutches of the furious pack of wolves. They had chased him with relentless fervor after he dared to take what belonged to them—driving him, against his will, into the dreaded Dark Zone.
He had not entered the Dark Zone by choice. The wolves had flanked him from all sides, herding him like prey until he entered the dark territory. Even now, their howls echoed faintly in the distance, which seemed like a chilling reminder that they were still hunting him.
If he stayed here for long, they would surely find him.
Tears nearly welled in his eyes when he realized where he had crossed. He had almost begged the wolves aloud for mercy, almost promised to return what he had stolen—but he knew such stupidity would only hasten his death.
With desperation intensifying in his chest, he sprinted into the dense forest, weaving through some towering trees at full speed.
Five minutes into his frantic run—
Bamm!
All of a sudden, a sharp impact rang out, echoing like a pestle striking mortar, as Ballock collided with another figure who seemed to be sprinting with equal desperation. The force hurled them both aside, sending them rolling across the ground.
Ballock panted heavily, writhing in pain and clutching his ribs. He remained lying upon the ground, unable to rise, the agony of the crash overwhelming him. It was a brutal smash.
From the other side also came a cold grunt, followed by slow, deliberate movement.
Ballock tried to compose himself, but his body betrayed him. The blow had been too much.
Then a sharp voice rang out, with surprise hidden beneath it, "Ballock! What in hell are you doing here?!" The figure hurried toward him; disbelief etched in his tone.
Blood had already withdrawn his spiritual sense before the ant's dreadful assault. He dared not release it again, fearing the beast would lock onto him through the slightest ripple of energy.
Little did Blood know that he had chosen wisely. Had he released his spiritual sense in his panic, it would have spelled his end—for the others who had done so were instantly targeted and slain.
Only the ant's spiritual sense reigned supreme in that moment
The others had believed their spiritual senses would guide them to safety, leading them through hidden paths where they might escape the beast's wrath. Instead, their reliance had led them straight to death. They were targeted and slain.
Ballock was startled to hear his name from a stranger, but recognition struck him almost at once. He was revitalized as if by a gush of energy, springing to his feet. He seemed to forget his pain in his eagerness to confirm his suspicion.
The young guy was shrouded in a hood, but it couldn't conceal his identity from Ballock's eyes. It was truly his long‑lost friend—Blood—who he had searched for endlessly.
Ballock had nearly been torn apart by wolves because of him, and now here he was. Emotion welled up inside him, so strong he almost threw a tantrum like a child.
But Blood wasn't ready for sentiment.
"Get your emotions together! If you truly want to survive, you'd better hurry. There's no time to dilly‑dally." he said sharply, his voice ragged with breath as he bolted forward.
"You've successfully joined the hunt."
Ballock was bewildered; however, he still sprinted after him. He needed answers—how had Blood come here, since his own arrival was pure misfortune?
Blood slowed his pace deliberately, allowing Ballock to catch up. They ran side by side, shadows pressing in around them.
"What was that abou—" Ballock began, but his words were cut short.
The dark environment suddenly shimmered as a faint glint appeared—a glow like a hidden gleamer pierced the darkness, lighting the surroundings.
Before Ballock could finish his question, the space itself was twisted. A turbulent wave sprang out with a sucking force that seized them without warning.
It was so sudden that Blood and Ballock were stunned, unable to move an inch. Their struggles proved futile, as though the darkness itself conspired to bind them. They were dragged helplessly toward the vortex growing in size.
In an instant, both crashed violently into the swirling space.
It wrapped around them, binding them tightly together as it spun and twisted. Then, just as suddenly, it sealed shut and the forest returned to silence, as though nothing had happened.
The two kids couldn't be seen. They were gone—swallowed whole by the seemingly furious space, devoured like prey by a hideous maw.
When the portal collapsed and the space returned to calm, a man with a vicious countenance stepped forth from behind a towering tree.
"Damn it!" he roared, slamming his palm against the trunk so violently that it shuddered.
"It took me ages to make progress on the transport rune. Even if the wave was unstable, I could have studied it more, refined it, and advanced further. But those wretched filths have dragged me back to square one. Curse them!" His fist struck again, and this time the blow punched a hole clean through the opposite side of the trunk.
Snarling, he walked toward the place where the vortex had sealed, hoping to glean something from the lingering residue of its energy.
Still, if one looked closely, they would have seen his plain monstrous nature: a horn jutted from his head, and his blood‑red eyes was gleaming beneath the cover of darkness, flaring with unholy malice.
___
Meanwhile, in an unknown space...
In a foreign realm veiled by crimson clouds, wooden houses stood clustered together, their forms leaning against one another like weary flowers.
"Mat, walk faster or we'll miss part of the story today." a girl urged, slowing her pace just enough for the younger boy beside her. Her hair was tied back, swaying like a ponytail as she moved.
"I know, Cassie. You just walk too fast—I'm trying my best to catch up." the boy replied, panting as he hurried after her.
She reached out and clasped his hand. "Like this, we'll make it in time." she said with a playful squeeze. Her gaze suddenly flickered toward the great tree ahead before she pulled him along.
Within minutes, they arrived at the tree, breathing heavily. Beneath its shade sat a gathering of children, listening intently to an old man who rested between two massive roots. His stiff smile seemed to carry the weight of countless tales, and in his hand glowed a script that he glanced at from time to time.
"…and just like that, they smashed into one another. And so, that was how the two friends met again." the man concluded.
"Woo..."
The children erupted in laughter and cheers, their voices filling the air.
"Old Gandy, what happened next? We all want more!" one boy shouted, his words echoing among the group.
"That will be all for today, children. See you in another session. And don't forget to share the tale when you return home." Old Gandy said firmly, drawing groans of disappointment.
"You can't stop here! Just one more scene…" a child pleaded, dropping to one knee. He was yearning for the story to continue.
Old Gandy chuckled softly. "You can't demand that of me, child. And you shouldn't kneel before me, not unless you wish to see me beheaded." He said, and yet he remained seated, unmoving.
The boy refused to rise though, stubborn in his plea.
With a reluctant sigh, Old Gandy relented. "Since you are impatient, then listen carefully."
Smiles lit the children's faces—they had won a rare continuation. It was uncommon for Old Gandy to extend a tale once he had declared it finished, even though the people listening were all scions of prominent families.
"They were fortunate not to be chased by the ant." He began. "Yet their speed betrayed them, for they could not evade the turbulent space that appeared abruptly before them. They crashed into it with full force, and in that instant, it swallowed them whole. That was the moment their lives changed, the moment they discovered what—and who—they truly were." He finished.
A quiet voice instantly rose from the crowd. "Was the turbulent space natural, or was it a trap set for them? And who could have placed it there?"
Old Gandy had a light smirk and laughed. "Hehe! You could say so. But it was not meant for them. The prince was merely testing his work."
"A prince? You never mentioned a prince in today's tale!" a boy with long dark hair muttered in surprise. The others nodded in agreement.
Old Gandy's smile turned rueful as he cleared his throat. "Yes, a prince. He was the one who destabilized the space, creating the portal in the first place. And not just any prince—he was one of the many princes of the Bloodsucker race."
Dusting off his shoes, Old Gandy ended his words.
The children sat agape, their eyes wide with awe and fear. They wanted to ask more questions, but when their eyes turned to the place Old Gandy had sat only moments before, they found it empty.
He was gone—vanished without a trace.