Ethan's gaze snapped to the old man.
"You know them?"
The old man hesitated, then finally lowered his head.
"Only… legends," he said slowly.
"At the very deepest part of the Nether Sea, there's a race that never contacts the outside world."
"The Thalaryn."
"They don't fully belong to the land… and they don't fully belong to the sea."
"They can survive in the deep ocean, and they can also walk onto land."
"But what made them a legend wasn't their bodies." The old man lifted his head, staring at the corpses with something like reverence. "It was the power they control."
He swallowed.
"They possess a kind of ore."
"Worldheart Crystal."
That name made Ethan's pupils tighten.
"It's said to be a power that can shift the balance of an entire world," the old man went on. "And that's why no race dares to provoke them."
"They don't need to rule the Nether Sea."
"Because they already stand above it."
Ethan didn't speak.
But his eyes turned even deeper, colder.
