Eryndor glanced at the three girls surrounding him.
"Are they… a part of you?"
He smirked.
"What is this? Do you turn men into girls for some masked game of yours?"
One of the three Perelith burst into laughter.
"Hah! No, I was definitely a girl before. Can't speak for the others, though."
Another rolled her eyes.
"How stupid can you be?"
The third
"Just forgetful—and a little too cheerful, that's all."
"So… I'm staying a man then?"
The stag's voice was calm, almost amused.
"No. Perelith are born with four souls in a single body. You will become one of the souls I use to amplify my mana."
"So, you're siblings. Then where did you learn these chains?"
Before the stag could answer, the chains tightened around him.
"Begin."
The three Perelith drew a circle around Eryndor, layering it with overlapping symbols. They cut their fingers, linking three blood-marked paths to the glowing chains before stepping back.
Silver mana flared along the links. Blood welled from Eryndor's eyes again.
"Gyaah—stop! Wait! I'm sorry! I can be your servant… or something else, if you'd like?"
"Not a bad idea… Sister, why don't we make him our slave?"
From beside the stag stepped another Perelith—taller, more graceful, and undeniably more feminine than the others. Her silver hair cascaded long down her back, and her cold, steady gaze never wavered. Without hesitation, she bled onto the chains and drew a branch-like symbol into the circle.
The fear and panic in Eryndor's eyes faded, replaced by a cold, expressionless stare as he studied her.
"You know… I'm rather skilled with mana flows and seals. These marks you've drawn? Without my permission, they're nothing but empty symbols."
"Without the chains, yes," the cold Perelith replied, gray-white eyes locking onto his.
"The chains don't drain mana—they drain the soul. Once you become a part of me, you'll have no choice but to submit."
Steam rose from the links, burning his skin. Blood dripped from his eyes once more, and his spiritual mana began to ebb away. Still, he didn't flinch.
After a long moment, Eryndor looked back at her.
"I see… In that case…"
He seized the chains with both hands. Instantly, all three smaller Perelith collapsed to their knees, steam hissing from the glowing links.
"Impossible! The chains are eating your soul—how are you moving?" Her icy gaze shifted to alarm, brows furrowing.
The boy smirked faintly.
"I reversed the flow."
"Lies!"
The silver-haired Perelith conjured a bow and arrow of mana, drawing it taut and aiming straight for him. In that moment, she felt a sudden intrusion into her spiritual core—the mana in her bow flickered, destabilizing.
Eryndor's eyes gleamed with killing intent, and a smile played on his lips. Sensing danger, the girl immediately dropped the chains, grabbed her sisters, and fled into the forest.
Finally free, Eryndor stretched his shoulders and grinned.
"Heh-heh… and the hunter becomes the hunted."
The fleeing Perelith revived their sisters and split into different directions.
Chasing after them, Eryndor chuckled under his breath.
"Wow… they're fast. Almost as quick as the academy graduates, I'd say."
He focused mana into his legs, stepping forward. The technique—known throughout the world—consumed vast amounts of energy depending on the user's mana density. It was meant to be used sparingly. Eryndor, however, used it freely, surging toward one of the Perelith.
"You fool, you underestimate me!" she snarled, drawing her bow and loosing an arrow.
Eryndor dodged, then kicked up a stone where she was about to step, injecting mana into it and hurling it forward. As the silver-haired girl readied her second shot, she stumbled, losing balance. Eryndor was already upon her—he ignored her desperate kick and struck the back of her neck, knocking her out cold before dashing off after the next.
The younger Perelith, following her sister's command to run, heard the faint rustle of pursuit behind her.
"Haha… so you ran in fear, did you—"
But the last thing the unconscious girl, dangling from the rope at Eryndor's belt, would see before sleep claimed her was the boy's mocking smile.
Perched on a branch with two silver-haired Perelith tied to his waist, Eryndor tossed a stone into the air and caught it repeatedly. He could sense the third one hiding, her aura faint.
"Third choice… wrong move. I can wait for hours. My real target is still that stag."
Minutes passed in silence.
A few forest animals gathered quietly around him.
Eryndor grinned.
"A hunter who plans ahead… marvelous."
But he sighed softly.
"Still… I should end this game."
He grabbed a branch, infused it with mana, and began felling trees. The animals merely watched.
Suddenly, his emotions dulled. Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated all his remaining mana into his vision—and then he saw them. Bows and arrows encircled him, though the mana in them was faint.
"Really don't want to waste more time on this…" he muttered. "Alright, let's do it this way."
He dropped to the ground, laid the two unconscious girls beside him, and pulled a small knife from his pocket. Without hesitation, he swung the blade toward them.
Two Perelith lunged at him from nowhere.
The smaller one gathered mana into her palm and slashed. Eryndor dodged, spinning with the unconscious girls tied to him, using them as a barrier against the distant bows.
A powerful arrow shot from afar—he barely avoided it, stumbling. Another followed immediately. It was as if his every move was predicted.
Snapping his fingers, Eryndor hurled mana-charged stones toward the direction of the arrows. The attacks ceased.
The Perelith beside him had cut the ropes binding the girls and prepared to run—but she collapsed to her knees.
Using a mana seal mid-dodge, Eryndor had locked her flow. He tapped her neck, knocking her out.
The bows of mana dissipated, the animals fell lifeless to the ground.
Quietly, Eryndor retied the girls to his belt.
"If you don't show yourself soon, I'll slowly walk out of this forest. And if anyone attacks… I'll use them as shields. Your call."
A soft breeze brushed his neck. A blade slipped through the bushes, aiming for his throat.
"Again… couldn't sense it until the last moment," he muttered.
He let the blade pierce his hand, caught the attacker's wrist, and sealed her mana.
"Alright then…"
Ignoring the three unconscious girls and the cold, furious glare of the last, Eryndor drew a circle and etched several symbols into the earth.
The silver-haired Perelith spoke, her voice sharp.
"Without the chains, you can't do it."
Eryndor smiled.
"I told you—I'm good at this. The mana paths are like those of the Great Tree. Recreating your chain seal isn't difficult."
"Tsk. So you reversed the chain just because it felt familiar?"
Finishing the last symbol, he lifted his gaze to hers with a wide grin.
"No. I didn't reverse it. I used illusion. The other three were fragile—I followed their mana flows and knocked them out easily. Then I sent you a faint mana tremor. You panicked, dropped the chains, and the rest… well, you know."
She clenched her teeth.
"Impossible… You escaped the chains and moved freely."
Eryndor Noctvarin, eyes crusted with dried blood, gave a faint, emotionless smile.
"I simply endured the pain."