The new intelligence burned in Ren's mind like a fever. The Hollow's accelerated timeline had shattered his strategy of patience. A slow, gentle healing was a luxury neither he nor Kasai could afford any longer. The waiting game was over; a race had begun.
From his hidden islet, he watched with growing dread as the Hollow began their new work. Just as he'd feared, their methods grew more aggressive. They no longer simply chanted. Two of them waded into the mire and began dragging large pieces of dead, blighted wood and the skeletal remains of corrupted creatures to the edge of Kasai's pool. They started erecting crude, twisted totems, carving them with foul-smelling symbols that seemed to absorb the sickly violet light from the Heart-seed. Ren could feel it through the mire's web of life; they were building a focusing array, a magical lens to direct the full, concentrated power of the growing Heart directly into the Great Turtle's spirit.
They were laying siege to his soul.
A new plan, desperate and fraught with risk, began to form in Ren's mind. A full-frontal assault was still suicide. But a targeted strike, a decapitation, might just work. He had two targets: the leader, who was the lynchpin of their coordination, and Kasai's fading spirit, which needed to be awakened. He had to strike at both simultaneously.
He and Shiro communicated through their bond, a silent, frantic council of war. Ren would handle the turtle. From the safety of the sacred grotto, he would use the Silver Vein not as a subtle seep, but as a firehose. He would pour every ounce of his will and the grotto's pure energy into the channel, a massive surge intended to jolt Kasai awake and give him the strength to fight.
Shiro's task was more dangerous. The small snake, empowered by their shared magic, would be the assassin. He would have to infiltrate the Hollow's island and strike the leader at the most opportune moment: during the nightly communication with his dark master.
It was an all-or-nothing gambit. If any part of it failed, they would not just be discovered; they would be destroyed.
The day passed in a haze of tense preparation. Ren rested, ate, and meditated, gathering his strength and focusing his mind. He could feel the weight of what he was about to do. This was not a trial set by spirits or a desperate escape. This was a calculated act of war, and he was the one giving the command.
As dusk fell, casting long, twisted shadows across the mire, the moment came. Just as he had the night before, the Hollow leader broke from the circle and glided towards his secluded communication spot. It was the signal.
"Go now, my friend," Ren sent through the bond, his heart pounding. "Be swift. Be silent."
A feeling of fierce, unwavering loyalty came back from Shiro. The small snake slipped from Ren's islet into the murky water and vanished, a tiny shadow on a lethal mission.
Ren did not wait. He raced through the mire back to the sacred grotto, his feet finding sure footing on paths only he could now sense. He reached the glowing cavern of the ancient Guardian's bones and plunged his hands into the pool of pure, silver-lit water. He took a deep breath, connecting himself to the immense, life-giving power of the place. He could feel the Silver Vein he had created, a dormant conduit waiting for his command. He could also feel Shiro, a distant but clear point of consciousness, stealthily approaching his target.
Through Shiro's senses, Ren saw the leader kneel, pulling the black obsidian stone from his robes. The air grew cold as the connection to the Hollow's master was about to be forged.
Now. It had to be now.
With a silent cry, Ren opened the floodgates. He pulled on the grotto's power and his own, forcing a torrent of pure, silver-green energy into the underground channel. The grotto dimmed as its light was siphoned into the desperate gambit.
At the same time, across the mire, Shiro struck. He shot from the murky water at the base of the island like a black arrow, his form swelling with the golden light of their bond.
The two-fronted attack was launched in the same, perfect instant.
The Hollow leader, his attention on the whispering stone, had no time to react as a golden blur of serpent-fury lunged for the hand that held it.
And deep in the corrupted pool, at the feet of the dying Guardian, the end of the Silver Vein erupted. It was not a gentle seep. It was a geyser of brilliant, life-affirming light, a direct injection of the Sanctuary's purest magic into the heart of Kasai's being.
The chapter ended not with a whisper, but with a sudden, violent, two-fold cataclysm: the sharp, surprised cry of the Hollow leader, and a massive, silent surge of brilliant green light that erupted from the depths of the black pool, illuminating the entire mire in a flash of defiant life.