The mist hung heavy that night, thick enough to swallow the moonlight whole. Stephen moved through it soundlessly, each step sinking softly into damp soil. The strange group he had seen earlier had disappeared deeper into the rift, toward its center — a place no sane participant would dare to tread.
But sanity wasn't what guided him now. It was curiosity. And something deeper — a quiet pull in his chest, the faint thrum of the Azure Sparrow within his soul sea, resonating with the ominous hum echoing from the heart of the rift.
"It's as if something's… calling out," he muttered, pausing by a cracked boulder.
The sprout and sparrow pulsed faintly, as though sensing danger — or anticipation. Stephen exhaled slowly, tightening his grip on his light sword.
"Father always said to follow your instincts… but never your impulses," he whispered to himself, then sighed."Guess I'm breaking that rule today."
He began to move again, tracing the faint footprints the cultists had left behind. The forest grew stranger the deeper he went — the air heavier, the silence unnatural. Even the beasts seemed to avoid this place.
He reached a ridge overlooking a wide basin, and there — glowing faintly in the center — lay what looked like a vast circular seal, buried beneath layers of stone. Ancient runes pulsed faintly around it, breathing in rhythm like a slumbering beast.
A group of dark-clad figures stood near its edge, chanting softly in an archaic tongue. The sound wasn't loud, yet it crawled under the skin like whispers from a grave.
"That's… the sealed entrance," Stephen realized, crouching behind a tree."So it's real after all."
His hand trembled slightly. A part of him wanted to turn back — to pretend he hadn't seen any of it. But deep down, he knew that once something like this had been found, ignoring it wasn't an option.
Outside the rift, the mood inside the Federation control center had shifted from casual to tense. A series of alerts blinked red across multiple displays. The main supervisor barked orders as operators scrambled to restore visuals of the deeper zones.
"The inner sensors are fluctuating again — that's not natural interference!" one technician reported.
"We've already sent two scouting teams," the lead examiner replied, his voice tight. "Both disappeared before reaching Sector Zero."
The woman with sharp eyes from before leaned against the console, her jaw set.
"Then it's confirmed. They're heading toward the rift's heart. We can't risk another breach."
"What about the participants?" a junior examiner asked nervously."There are still hundreds of them in there—"
"We pull the elites first," she cut in. "If this turns into a corruption outbreak, we'll lose the rest anyway."
The scarred veteran stood and grabbed his communicator.
"Inform the clans' representatives. They need to be on standby. Now."
At the Federation's outer compound, tension rose the moment the message spread. Family envoys and guards who had accompanied the young talents to the exam began gathering near the briefing tents, their faces grim.
Among them, clad in crimson armor that shimmered faintly with runic fire, stood a tall, broad-shouldered man whose mere presence made the air tremble. His eyes burned like embers as he listened to the examiner's report, his expression turning stormy.
"You're saying you lost control of the monitoring grid?" he said, his voice a low growl that made even the senior officials flinch.
"W-We're deploying emergency scouts—"
"You should've done that sooner." The man stepped forward, his aura flaring for an instant. The ground beneath his boots cracked slightly."If the young miss comes to harm, the Blaze Clan's ancestor will not be pleased. You know what that means."
A heavy silence followed his words. The examiner swallowed hard.
"W-We understand, Lord Kael. The Federation will take full responsibility."
Kael Blaze — the peak Grandmaster overseeing the Blaze Clan's envoy — snorted, his gaze cold as steel.
"Responsibility won't bring her back if she's lost. She is the only descendant tested to have potential greater than the ancestor himself. You better pray this doesn't go wrong."
He turned sharply, crimson cloak sweeping behind him as he strode toward the teleportation circle that led to the monitoring bay.
Inside the rift, Stephen continued his silent vigil, hidden behind the roots of a massive tree. The cultists' chanting had grown louder now, echoing across the basin like a pulse from another world. And then, a tremor — faint, but enough to make the runes below flare briefly.
A low hum filled the air, and Stephen's body stiffened. His Azure Sparrow fluttered restlessly within his soul sea, releasing faint sparks of azure light. The sprout trembled beside it, as if resonating in warning.
"No," Stephen whispered. "Not now."
But before he could retreat, one of the cultists suddenly turned, their gaze sweeping across the ridge — eyes glowing faintly red beneath the hood.
"Someone's here," the figure hissed.
The chanting stopped. Dozens of heads turned.
Stephen's pulse spiked. Damn it.
He turned and bolted into the forest, branches whipping against his arms as the sound of pursuit followed. The cultists didn't shout, didn't curse — they simply moved, fast and silent, like shadows given form.
Somewhere deep within his soul, the Azure Sparrow gave a low, echoing cry — a call that made the mist itself shiver.
The hunt had begun.