The underground chamber where the altar was located seemed well hidden from the world above—ancient, untouched, and forgotten by time. Yet despite its age, there was no one else here. No monsters, no creatures… only the lingering presence of a goddess, and Soren.
He could only guess why. Perhaps the other monsters couldn't find this place—or maybe they weren't allowed to enter. It was possible the goddess had placed a ward of some kind, preventing intrusion. Whatever the reason, her presence had offered him a sense of calm, even hospitality. And so, Soren decided it was best to stay within the chamber until morning came.
Even if he could veil his existence entirely—even from her—he still wasn't certain whether the goddess who had granted him a blessing could truly be blinded to him. There was too much he didn't understand.
Time passed slowly in the chamber, minute by minute.
The golden rays that had poured through the cracks above were beginning to fade, dimming with the arrival of night.
As Soren settled down, he glanced at the hilt resting at his side.
There was no need for Aeternis to remain active here—not in a place this still, this sacred.
So he dismissed it.
Soren sat quietly among the sea of luminescent blue flowers. Their soft glow pulsed gently toward the altar in rhythmic waves, a silent dance of light in the stillness. And as he sat there, a series of questions began to rise in his mind.
First, the most obvious—why couldn't the goddess see him?
If the gods truly can't perceive me… does it have something to do with the old man who placed me on this path? His words were clear—he warned me about the incoming clan, which led me to escape alone. I haven't seen or heard from him since. He helped me through the awakening… and after that, I received a title. That shouldn't even be possible for someone who's only awakened. Could it have been his doing?
If so… then maybe 'Forsaken by Fate' isn't just a title. Maybe it's a sign—something connected to the gods themselves. Maybe that's why the goddess couldn't see me. If I want answers… I have to find him again. I need to understand what's truly happening.
Another thought lingered—one that had been slowly taking shape.
The nature of essence.
Soren recalled how the monster he fought had focused essence into its eyes, almost as if it could predict his movements through it. If his theory was correct, that would explain why Aeternis had moved so much faster and more fluidly while controlling his body.
Aeternis must be drawing directly from my essence and using it properly. That's why its movements are stronger—more refined. It's not just about power… it's about how the essence is distributed.
If that was true, then Soren had a long road ahead of him. But now he knew what to start learning next.
Soren rose from the sea of glowing flowers and held out his hand in front of him, palm facing upward—almost as if he were about to read a sacred scripture. He stood in silence, eyes closed, focusing inward. He tried to sense the essence flowing through his body, tracing the warmth threading through his veins like quiet rivers of energy.
He had already used essence before—channelling it into his hands and releasing it as elemental force. But now… he wanted more than raw output. He wanted control. Precision.
He pictured the mechanics of a simple punch. Which joints moved first. Which muscles tensed, which relaxed. He visualized each segment of his body, mapping them in his mind with meticulous care.
Slowly, deliberately, he guided the essence circulating within him. A fraction at a time, it began to flow—first into his lateral muscles, then his shoulders, triceps, hips, abdomen, legs. Finally, it moved through the joints in a synchronized wave, like a perfectly orchestrated motion waiting to be released.
With his eyes still closed, he held that sensation—essence held steady within each allocated point. Then, shifting his stance slightly, he focused the gathered energy into the right side of his body. His posture shifted, precise and calm.
And then—he threw a right cross into the air.
*WHOOSH*
A sharp gust followed the motion—a low blast of air trailing across his face like a whisper of power. The force hadn't come from magic or spellwork… but from the fist cutting through air, guided and refined within his body alone.
Soren opened his eyes slowly.
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he exhaled softly.
"Not bad," he muttered, amused.
Soren drifted back into thought, replaying the experiment he had just performed.
The strength was clearly superior to my previous punches… but the process is too slow. By the time I start manipulating essence, I'd already be struck down in a real fight. Either I need to make the process instinctual, simplify it, or find a way to increase the speed altogether. And I didn't adjust the essence amounts to match the strength each muscle needed. With more precise control, it could be even more refined—more efficient.
His mind buzzed with possibilities—new applications, new techniques. For the first time in a while, he had found something that seized his curiosity fully. A fixation to occupy his restless thoughts.
By the time Soren finished his experiments, he had discovered something important—manipulating essence within his own body wasn't nearly as taxing as manipulating the elements themselves.
He came to a conclusion: Masteries didn't seem to be required for essence control. In that regard, he was likely on par with other awakened individuals at his level. And if he could refine his control—make it more precise, more efficient—then perhaps he could even surpass them. Victory wouldn't depend on raw power alone, but on finesse.
That thought brought a quiet sense of motivation. If nothing else, it would make his hunts more manageable—something he couldn't yet consider a success.
Fatigued from the hours of experimentation, Soren finally allowed himself to sit down. His body sagged slightly as he leaned back, bracing himself with his arms, legs stretched out toward the jade altar. The suns had long since vanished from the sky, giving way to the gentle rise of the moon.
The scene before him was breathtaking.
When he was younger, he'd used telescopes to study the stars—admiring their distant glow from a quiet rooftop, always searching for patterns. But now… it almost felt as though he were among them. Floating. A part of the night sky.
The luminescent flowers continued to pulse gently, casting ethereal waves of light across the floor. The gemstones embedded in the chamber walls shimmered like constellations, and the moonlight, reflected softly off the jade altar, bathed everything in a dreamlike glow.
It felt like a world beyond the stars—like a place only he could see.
But there was no one to share it with.
And so, without another word, Soren closed his eyes. It was time to get some well-deserved rest.
***
By morning, Soren didn't linger in the chamber for long. He felt it would be disrespectful to overstay his welcome—however faint the goddess's presence had become. A guest should never intrude too long on a deity's hospitality.
He ascended the stone steps slowly, emerging once again before the large door. As he reached it, the massive slab shifted open without his touch. For a split second, Soren's heart skipped a beat. He braced himself, half-expecting a sudden wave of water to come crashing down—either to knock him against the stone or drown him where he stood.
But nothing came.
To his pleasant surprise, the water outside had parted once more—just as it had before, clearing a path for him.
Golden rays filtered through the cracks in the canopy above, soft beams spilling across the forest floor. From somewhere far off, strange and indistinct sounds echoed—inhuman and wild, swallowed by the dense undergrowth beyond.
Soren stepped out of the pond and reached for Aeternis. His body felt heavier than usual—worn from days of walking, running, fighting, and experimenting. He'd eaten only once, and even that had been something barely worthy of the word. He had relied mostly on essence to draw water, but it was never enough to truly sustain him.
Once again, survival pressed at his mind.
He needed food—urgently.
"A meeting with the gods is always welcome," Aeternis announced grandly, "but alas, we must march forth into peril and trials, so that the divine may admire our glorious strength!"
Soren nearly rolled his eyes. Aeternis hadn't spoken to the goddess, nor had it truly witnessed anything divine—it had only mouthed the words.
He didn't bother responding.
Instead, he turned toward the forest and chose a direction—one that, hopefully, led toward civilization. Or at the very least… food.
The forest stretched endlessly ahead, a maze of towering trees and tangled foliage. He walked for hours, the humid air clinging to his skin, the cries of unseen creatures echoing from deep within the canopy. Step by step, his legs grew heavier, but he pressed on in silence.
Eventually, he came to a halt.
Something caught his attention.
Soren lowered his gaze to the forest floor—there, half-buried in the mud, were faint impressions.
Footprints.
Human footprints.
Or at least… something that looked human.