'We have been found!' — Kugh! — A sharp snort escaped him as a trickle of blood ran from his nose, but he quickly wiped it away, unwilling to slow down even for a moment.
Kurian's mind raced, disbelief gnawing at him. 'How the hell did they catch up so fast?'
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as even though he didn't see them, he could feel multiple presence approaching them in an unbelievable speed. 'Their speed… it's as fast as a Colonel.'
Colonel, it was a fairly high rank, and though there were many who held it, it wasn't a position one could simply measure up to on a whim.
'No,' He thought as he began to reminisce about the demonic army; in that battalion, the mature demons trained solely for battle, were able to rival any Colonel's might with minimal training.
Kurian's jaw tightened at the thought.
It was a frustrating reality to accept, yet it was the truth: a mature demon, even with only the most basic training — merely the knowledge of how to use a weapon and magic — could stand against any Colonel, multiple even.
'Where we painted the realm with our blood, sweat, and tears,' he thought bitterly, 'those vermin merely learned to cast spells and brandish weapons to defeat us.'
He scoffed inwardly. 'Heck, their posture and form were so immature that, if not for those iron fortress-like bodies of theirs, we could have laid countless of them six feet under.'
Perhaps it was because of the helplessness he felt now that he was reminded of the helplessness he had suffered back then.
Some were simply born powerful, knowing nothing of the struggles of the weak.
But then again… being weak, or being born weak, both were a sin in such a catastrophic world.
'Maybe,' a dark thought began to surface; bitter and cold. 'This life... it's merely a continuation of my previous one.'
"No matter what one may do, or where they go, their life would eventually lead back to me."
This was the incantation once voiced by Baal when he summoned the force of Dissolution. In that moment, Kurian had sensed countless manifestations of decay and ending — each unique in its essence, each echoing a different form of finality.
He recalled the possible, more renowned names Baal might have uttered, each a distinct name for the ultimate collapse: Entropic Heat Death of the Universe, Ragnarök, Maha Pralaya, Sermon of the Seven Suns, The Day of Judgment, Frashokereti and others beyond mortal comprehension.
And the one Baal had chosen was the 'Entropic Heat Death of the Universe.' As Kurian recalled that memory, he found himself wondering, 'Exactly what am I missing? What purpose do these memories serve now?'
He tried to find meaning within the recollection, entertaining a grim possibility: 'Is my life simply flashing before my eyes?'
As the thought surfaced, and as he began to clearly hear the pounding of their pursuers' footsteps, Kurian could only yield to it.
"This is the end." He closed his eyes, knowing they would catch up any second now.
Pull.
Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted. Serena, who had been struggling to keep pace, now held him tightly in her trembling arms.
'It's futile, Mother…' That same defeated feeling washed over him — the one he had felt when he had decided to incinerate himself in flames.
'O world, my final salutation—'
His mind was mid-recital when a sudden chill raced down his spine. 'Why is the wind so strong now?'
His eyes flew open "—!!?" and what he saw, left him speechless.
Serena, gasping for air yet aflame with raw determination, was now running at an impossible speed — fast enough to rival a Major General.
A/N: Colonel (Col) < Brigadier / Brigadier General (Brig / Brig Gen) < Major General (Maj Gen)
She tore across the uneven road, widening the distance between them and their pursuers with every heartbeat. Kurian could only stare, stunned into silence.
Behind them, confusion broke out among the hunters.
"Wait, she was a Resonator?!" one of them shouted.
"Yeah," the man — Kurian's so-called father — replied coldly, "She's from the Lawless Zone, after all, as it is a place where emotions are tested to their absolute limits."
"Once someone's emotions cross the threshold, they awaken as a Resonator," he continued in a detached tone. "And Serena has crossed that line many times."
His client frowned. "Doesn't that make things difficult for us? She's fast on her heels."
The man turned to his client with a look of exaggerated admiration, his tone dripping with flattery. "Ho, I didn't know you were such a man of insight and vision, honorable sir."
Perplexed, the man raised a brow, slightly confused but visibly pleased by the compliment.
The man quickly continued, seizing the moment. "She's overclocking, which means her ability will soon begin to cause drastic changes in her body, and I happen to know exactly what those changes are."
Overclocking, it was a state where a Resonator had lost control of their Forte due to extreme psychological stress or overusing their Resonance Ability.
This loss of control caused their Resonance Energy to overflow, which could cause damage to the Resonator themselves and the surrounding area.
"Oh?" The client leaned forward with mild curiosity. "And what might that be?"
"Her ability is crystallization," the man explained eagerly. "She can create jade constructs, but they're only temporary."
"When she overclocks, those same jade formations start to manifest from within her own body. And the first area to be affected…" He paused, smirking. "…is the location of her tacet mark."
The client's eyes narrowed. "And where would that be?"
The man's grin widened. "Her left heel."
"Haah — Haah."
Pushing herself to the limit, Serena navigated the route with an instinctive sense of familiarity. She had planned for this all along, and she had already familiarize herself with path she had planned to take.
*Shudder*
"—!!?"
Feeling the precious one in her arms shudder, her pace faltered for a split second, but she quickly steadied herself, dismissing any hesitation.
Survival mattered more, and as the wind rushed past Kurian's ears, he heard her soft, almost inaudible whispers, "Just bear with it a little longer."
Meanwhile, Kurian, nestled tightly against her chest, felt a sharp pricking sensation that drew his attention toward her left heel.
There, he could sense microscopic needles forming, and piercing through flesh and tendon from within. A chill ran down his spine; he recognized that sensation, as he too had experienced it many times in his past life.
Yet, he forced himself to ignore it and instead pondered, "Is Serena… a Resonator?"
He had always noticed a small scar on her left heel but had dismissed it as a peculiar, cross-shaped mark and nothing more. Technically, he hadn't been wrong to assume it was a scar, but it was far more than that.
Back among the pursuers, the client's narrowed his eyes. "Can that really be considered a Tacet Mark?"
He too had noticed the odd scar before. Unlike the hardened black imprint typical of Resonators, Serena's mark looked almost ordinary — just a faint scar that happened to resemble a Tacet Mark.
"She was a fool," the man accompanying him said, his tone laced with condescension. "Having no knowledge of Resonator awakening, she mistook the transformation for a curse. Believing she was turning into a monster, she tried to suppress it."
"Hmm," He chuckled darkly before finishing, "And this resulted in that malformed, incomplete Tacet Mark."
"I see." The client's lips curved into a sneer. "That means once her stamina burns out, or when the overclocking overwhelms her, she won't be too hard to subdue."
"Indeed," the man nodded, a cruel smile crossing his face.
As the men behind them jeered and cackled like hyenas, convinced that the mother and son would never escape, the two pressed on, moving from the rugged terrain of the lush forest into a more open clearing.
Serena's pace, however, was beginning to slow.
"…" Kurian's lips quivered, struggling — no, failing — to form the word: "Mother."
'Why is this happening?' His heart sank. Somehow, he found himself unable to call her mother anymore.
"M—M—" His lips quivered, the word he so desperately wanted to say caught in his throat. Yet the urgency to call out to her wouldn't let him stop.
He kept trying, forcing sound through trembling breath, until at last, he managed to speak. But what escaped his mouth was not mother, but... "Serena."
The utterance carried pain — the kind born of helplessness.
Serena halted, turning her head slightly, her gaze sharp yet gentle. Without saying a word, she lifted her hand. A faint hum filled the air as her Resonance stirred; from her fingertips, light shimmered and solidified into a delicate jade bangle.
"Carrying that pouch will only slow you down," she said softly, her voice calm yet resolute. "Take this… and go."
Kurian's eyes fixed on the jade bangle she had formed. It was fragile—threaded with unstable cracks and swirls of pale white and green that seemed to pulse faintly, like something alive, no something real.
This was a mother's memento, something for her child to carry when she no longer could. Kurian's eyes darted between her, the bangle, and the pouch.
His Aetheric sight strained to capture every minute sensation that emanated from them, as though he could preserve the fleeting warmth, the faint hum of resonance, the traces of her will.
He wanted to capture them — burn them into his mind and memory — as if they threatened to slip away from his grasp, just like that rock had slipped from his hand the day before.
He remembered it vividly — how he had sensed a spy's presence then, and in haste, had picked up a stone to strike the shadowed figure.
Yet whether it was due to him sweating or mere misfortune, the rock had slipped from his grasp… and the spy had vanished into the dark. That single failure had set in motion this cruel chain of events.
"Go now." Serena's voice was firm as she pushed Kurian away. His legs moved almost on their own, obeying her words as if following an order from a superior officer.
As his body carried him from the clearing, Serena turned to face the direction of their pursuers. A faint sense of relief flickered in her heart: 'At least he wouldn't have to see me in such a pitiful state anymore.'
"Haah — Haah."
The young cub of the fox ran with an empty mind, thoughts drowned in chaos, his body moving on instinct alone. But then — a voice from the past cut through the haze, sharp and commanding: "Ten more laps!"
At that single phrase, Kurian's legs faltered, skidding slightly as old teachings resurfaced — lessons drilled into him during his private years in the military.
The echo of that devilish instructor's voice rang clear: "Under no circumstances are you to gasp for air. Control your breathing, or you'll show your weakness to the enemy."
"Remember, gasping clouds the mind. Control your breath, and you control yourself. Never gasp. Breathe… and stay calm."
"Haah — Haah."
Kurian was gasping, his breaths shallow and uneven — but they began to steady as the final command from memory echoed in his mind: "If you open your mouth to gasp even once, you'll run ten more laps — without gasping."
Kurian drew in a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled slowly, forcing his lungs to obey. The wild rhythm of panic gave way to measured control, each breath sharpening his focus.
But as his mind regained clarity, frustration twisted in his chest. 'Why now? Why are these memories surfacing if they serve no purpose in my current distress?'
As his mind steadied and the haze of frustration receded, a chaotic dance of recollections and visions began to stir within him.
Now, his mortal omniscience gave way to something deeper — a meaning long obscured beneath the mask of ego, as all the anger, the helpless fury, and the bitter self-loathing that had once consumed him now converged, preparing to unveil something far greater: a truth long veiled by a pride he never knew he possessed.
To be continued...