Two days after the attack, the forest was still too quiet.
Even the wind refused to move through the trees. The air smelled faintly of ash and damp earth — a scent that had started to sink into Alaric's clothes no matter how many times he washed them.
He stood near the forest edge, staff in hand, scanning the mist. His golden eyes reflected the faint morning light, sharp and restless. The villagers were rebuilding the barricades behind him, but his mind was elsewhere.
Something about that monster — the twisted giant of bark and bone — wouldn't leave him alone. It wasn't just the size or strength. It felt different. Organized. Like something had shaped it, not just corrupted it.
And the worst part? Its mana had felt familiar.
He'd sensed it before — faint traces of it deep under the temple ruins where he'd been raised.
"Something's under there," he murmured. "Something big."
Ashen's voice came from behind, calm as ever. "And you intend to find it."
Alaric didn't turn. "You already know the answer."
"I had hoped you would rest first," Ashen said.
Alaric gave a short laugh. "You know me better than that."
"Yes," Ashen replied. "That is what concerns me."
They left before dawn, following the trail of corruption deeper into the Grand Forest.
At first, the path looked normal — tall trees, wet moss, faint light filtering through the branches. But after an hour, the signs began to show.
The trees here were wrong.
Their bark was split open in long, jagged scars, and black veins pulsed faintly beneath the surface like infected blood vessels. Some had twisted so far that their trunks grew into spirals, roots exposed and writhing.
Even the ground felt soft, like walking over flesh instead of soil.
Alaric grimaced. "This place is officially disgusting."
Ashen said nothing, but his steps were cautious, his silver eyes scanning every movement in the shadows. His hand stayed close to his sword.
The deeper they went, the colder it became. The mist grew thicker, clinging to their clothes. Alaric's breath fogged in front of him even though it wasn't cold enough for frost.
"Feels like walking into a throat," he muttered.
Ashen gave him a sidelong glance. "You have a talent for disturbing metaphors."
"Thanks," Alaric said. "I try."
After another hour, they reached the clearing.
At its center stood what looked like a massive crater — a pit carved into the ground by something ancient. Around it, the trees leaned inward, their branches tangled together like hands reaching toward the center.
The soil near the edge was cracked and pulsing faintly with green light. The air itself vibrated with mana, humming low in Alaric's bones.
"This is it," he said quietly. "The source."
Ashen stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "No. This is only the surface."
Before Alaric could ask what he meant, the ground trembled.
A faint rumble echoed from deep below — slow at first, then faster. The cracks along the soil widened, spilling black mist.
And then they heard it.
A heartbeat.
Slow. Deep. Wrong.
The air around them pulsed in rhythm with it.
"Not again," Alaric muttered, gripping his staff. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."
Ashen drew his sword, his tone quiet but sharp. "Prepare yourself."
The ground split open.
What rose from the pit was alive.
It wasn't a simple beast this time — it was something ancient. The upper half resembled a humanoid figure, but its skin was made of tree bark cracked with green light. Long branches extended from its back like skeletal wings, dripping with black sap.
Its face was hollow, an empty cavity filled with twisting vines that moved as it breathed. Its eyes were not eyes at all — just two burning green orbs that watched them with eerie focus.
Its chest was open, revealing a massive glowing crystal pulsing like a heart — black veins running from it into the ground.
The creature was at least twice as tall as the corrupted giant from before. But its movements were slow, deliberate — graceful in a terrifying way, like it understood what it was doing.
It tilted its head toward them.
And when it spoke, the sound wasn't a voice. It was a whisper of wind through dead leaves, carried by mana itself.
"...Child of life and death…"
Alaric froze. "It can talk?!"
Ashen's expression didn't change, but his grip tightened on his sword.
The creature took a slow step forward. Each movement made the ground ripple like water.
"You… woke me…" it whispered again. "From beneath your temple… your cradle…"
Alaric's heart dropped. "The temple?"
The creature's head turned, branches creaking. "Your birth tore the seal. Your soul sings with the same rhythm… as mine."
For the first time, Alaric felt real fear crawl up his spine.
It wasn't just a monster.
It knew him.
He stepped back slowly. "Okay… so… you're saying we're related? Because I don't remember signing up for the 'creepy forest spirit family plan.'"
The creature didn't answer. Instead, its chest flared brighter — the crystal heart pulsing faster. The ground split further, and tendrils of dark energy crawled toward Alaric's feet like living shadows.
Ashen moved instantly, slashing through the tendrils before they could touch him. "It's drawing on you," he warned. "Your mana resonates with it."
"Great," Alaric snapped. "Now I'm bait. Again!"
He raised his staff, pulling in mana from the air. The green glow of life mixed with the gray pulse of death, swirling around him in waves. His white hair fluttered in the rising wind.
The creature's voice came again — quieter, almost curious.
"You carry both… but you cannot control them."
"Oh yeah?" Alaric muttered. "Watch me."
He slammed the staff down.
Light burst outward in a spiral, slamming into the creature's legs. Vines cracked and shattered. The ground shook, but the creature didn't fall. It simply turned its gaze toward him — and for a split second, Alaric swore it smiled.
Ashen moved before it could retaliate.
He was a blur of black and silver, his sword cutting across the creature's arm. Bark and sap exploded into the air. The creature swung back with a massive, root-covered hand, slamming into the ground where Ashen had been standing a heartbeat earlier.
The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, knocking Alaric off his feet. He rolled across the dirt, coughing, and pushed himself up.
"Okay," he panted. "Definitely not friendly."
The creature let out a sound — half roar, half exhale — and black mist poured from its open chest, spreading through the clearing.
The light dimmed.
Ashen's figure flickered through the haze, his blade slicing through roots and vines as they lashed toward him. His movements were elegant, but even he couldn't cut them all.
"Alaric," he called, voice sharp through the chaos. "Find the core and destroy it!"
Alaric nodded, pulling himself to his feet. "Easier said than done!"
The clearing was chaos.
The air itself shook under the pressure of mana. Black mist churned through the trees like a storm, and every breath Alaric took felt heavier, thicker. The creature loomed above him, branches twisting from its back like broken ribs, each one dripping with corruption.
Ashen was already moving — faster than any human could. His sword flashed silver in the dark, carving through the monster's vines before they could strike. The air hissed with every cut, the scent of rot and burning wood mixing into something foul.
"Alaric!"
He heard Ashen's voice through the roar of mana.
The boy raised his staff, letting the gray glow of death mana flow through it. The pulse felt rough this time — wild, fighting against his control. He gritted his teeth and forced it steady.
The creature swung one massive arm toward him. The vines along it opened like mouths, dripping black fluid.
Alaric ducked and rolled, the arm slamming into the ground where he'd just been. Dirt and bark exploded into the air, a rain of debris falling around him.
"Too close," he muttered, pushing himself up. "Way too close."
He planted his staff, focusing on the crystal heart glowing in the creature's chest. It pulsed with every beat of the corrupted mana, as if mocking him.
That's the core.
If he could hit that, maybe — just maybe — they could end this.
He aimed the staff, calling up the twin forces inside him.
Life mana surged first — warm, blinding, alive. Then came the death mana — cold, sharp, pulling at the edges of his strength. The two clashed in his chest, swirling wildly like a storm waiting to burst.
"Stay together… stay together…" he whispered.
The ground beneath him cracked from the pressure.
When he released it, a spiral of green and gray light shot toward the creature, crashing into its torso.
The explosion tore through the clearing.
The creature screamed, its voice like breaking glass. The vines around its legs withered instantly, and chunks of bark fell from its shoulders. The light pierced halfway through its chest before fading.
Ashen seized the opening.
He dashed forward, cloak flaring behind him, and leapt onto the creature's arm. His sword gleamed as he ran along the length of it, using the vines as footholds. The movement was impossibly smooth — a dance of precision and control.
He reached the creature's chest and drove his blade straight into the glowing heart.
For a moment, the world went still.
Then the light erupted.
A shockwave tore through the ground, throwing Alaric back. He hit the dirt hard, rolling until he slammed against a fallen trunk. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he pushed himself up, coughing.
Ashen was still on the creature's chest, his sword buried deep. Cracks spread from the wound like lightning, glowing with fierce white light.
The monster convulsed, black fluid spilling from its mouth as the light spread. Its voice rose again — a distorted scream that made the trees shudder.
"Almost… there…" Alaric muttered, forcing himself to stand. He raised his staff again, channeling the last of his mana.
This time, he didn't try to separate life and death.
He let them blend naturally — the way they always wanted to.
The staff shone brighter than ever before, a soft silver glow surrounding it.
He swung it forward, sending a final wave of energy straight into the creature's heart.
The impact hit like thunder.
Light burst outward, washing over the clearing in a blinding wave. The roar of the creature faded, replaced by the soft hum of dispersing mana.
When the light dimmed, the creature was gone.
Only a crater remained — filled with faintly glowing dust and broken fragments of black crystal.
Ashen stood in the center, sword still in hand, his coat torn and face streaked with gray marks. He turned slowly toward Alaric, who was kneeling in the dirt, breathing hard.
"You did well," Ashen said quietly.
Alaric laughed weakly. "Did well? I almost got turned into tree fertilizer."
Ashen tilted his head slightly. "You are still alive. That is the preferred outcome."
"Remind me to install a sarcasm upgrade in you later," Alaric said, dragging himself to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, and his vision swam, but he smiled anyway.
Because even through the exhaustion, he could feel it.
The forest was breathing again.
The heavy pressure that had filled the air was gone. The mist had begun to thin, replaced by faint rays of sunlight breaking through the canopy.
Ashen sheathed his sword, the faint metallic click echoing through the quiet clearing. "It will return," he said after a pause. "The corruption cannot vanish completely. This was only the heart's echo."
"Yeah," Alaric said softly. "I figured."
He looked down at the fragments scattered across the ground. They were pulsing faintly — not black now, but gray, like the residue of mixed mana.
One shard caught the light, glowing softly.
Alaric crouched and picked it up. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt warmth spread through his hand — faint, like a heartbeat.
Ashen's voice was low. "Careful."
"I know."
But the shard didn't burn him. Instead, it pulsed once, and the mana inside him responded — the same rhythm, the same strange familiarity.
It was alive.
No — not alive. Linked.
He looked up at Ashen, eyes wide. "This… it's connected to me."
Ashen's gaze narrowed. "Then it may be part of what created the temple — and you."
That made Alaric pause. His hand tightened around the shard.
He wanted to laugh, but it came out tired instead. "Of course it is. Because why would anything in my life ever be simple?"
Ashen's faint, unreadable smile returned. "Simplicity rarely follows those who disturb the balance."
Alaric groaned. "You've been waiting to say that line, haven't you?"
"Perhaps."
They started their way back, the forest quieter now, the faint scent of mana fading with each step.
Alaric walked slower than usual, the shard glowing faintly in his palm. Its light was soft — almost comforting — but every time it pulsed, he could feel something deep below the forest floor pulse back.
Something bigger.
Something waiting.
Ashen noticed the way Alaric's eyes lingered on the trees. "You're thinking again."
"Yeah," Alaric said softly. "About what that thing said… about the temple. About me."
Ashen's tone didn't change, but there was weight behind it. "Whatever you are, Alaric, you are still yourself. That has not changed."
Alaric looked at him — at the pale, silent figure who'd carried him through every danger since the day he was born.
Then he smiled faintly. "Yeah. Guess I can live with that."
The two of them walked deeper into the soft morning light, their shadows stretching long across the forest floor.
Behind them, deep within the crater, the broken fragments of the crystal began to hum again — faint, rhythmic.
Almost like a heartbeat.