The mist churned like a living thing, swallowing sound, scattering light.Stephen ran — not for glory, not for points, but simply to stay alive.
Roots snatched at his boots as he weaved through the twisted forest. Each breath tore at his chest, his ribs aching with every movement. Behind him, shadows flickered — silent, relentless.
"They're not even breathing hard…" he muttered under his breath, ducking behind a fallen trunk.
He risked a glance back — half a dozen figures cloaked in black gliding through the fog, eyes faintly aglow like burning coals. Their footsteps barely disturbed the grass.They weren't hunters.They were something else entirely.
He reached a small clearing and pressed himself against a mossy boulder, forcing his ragged breathing to quiet. Sweat rolled down his cheek and mixed with dirt and blood — not all of it his own.
The faint pulse of his Aspect Souls flickered inside his chest. The blue sprout hummed softly, absorbing traces of the surrounding vitality, working desperately to knit his wounds.But the Azure Sparrow — it was restless.Its cry echoed faintly in his mind, filled with urgency, almost like a warning.
"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "I know. I'm cornered."
The forest went eerily still. Then —A voice broke the silence.
"You shouldn't have come here, boy."
The words came from above. Stephen looked up just as a cloaked figure dropped from a branch, landing lightly in front of him. A faint crimson glow shimmered beneath the man's hood.
In one smooth motion, the cultist drew a curved blade that pulsed with sickly black light.The air thickened — the smell of iron and rot wafting through the mist.
Stephen gritted his teeth and activated his soul force, his blue aura flaring faintly around him. His body screamed in protest, muscles quivering from fatigue and blood loss.He swung his blade — a desperate slash.
Steel met steel. Sparks flew.
The cultist barely moved — only tilted his head slightly before countering with a sweeping strike that sent Stephen flying. He hit the ground hard, rolling through mud and leaves before slamming against a tree.
Pain exploded across his side. His ribs burned. He tasted blood.
"Weak," the man said softly, stepping closer. "You're not even worth offering to the Lord."
He raised his sword, dark energy coiling along its edge.
Stephen's vision blurred. The world seemed to tilt. He could hear the faint flutter of wings within his soul — frantic, desperate.The Azure Sparrow's glow brightened, filling his consciousness with pure, searing light.
"Not yet…" he gasped. "I can't die yet!"
The cultist's blade came down —And then the sparrow screamed.
It wasn't sound — it was resonance. A piercing cry that shook the air and sent waves rippling through his soul sea. The pain vanished in an instant, replaced by a flood of blinding azure light.
Two crystal-like wings burst forth behind him, gleaming as if forged from the very essence of the sky. They unfurled with a shimmer, wrapping around him protectively.
The cultist froze mid-swing, his blade stopping an inch from Stephen's chest. The air vibrated, the ground cracking beneath the sheer force of the sparrow's cry.
"What—?"
Before he could react, the wings pulsed once — and Stephen vanished.
The cultist staggered back, his hood falling to reveal a pale, scarred face twisted in disbelief. Around him, the others emerged from the mist, scanning the area.
"He disappeared?" one hissed."Impossible. Spatial transfer is forbidden in this rift!"
The leader's expression darkened.
"That wasn't teleportation… that was something else. Something ancient."
They stared at the faint shimmer left behind — a few drifting feathers of light dissolving into the air.
When Stephen came to, the forest around him was silent again. The mist here was thinner, the air oddly calm.He lay beneath an old tree, faint azure motes floating around him like fireflies.
His wounds — though deep — had stopped bleeding. The blue sprout pulsed gently within his soul sea, its energy calm and steady once more.
But it was the sparrow that caught his attention.It hovered within him, wings spread, its tiny body dimly outlined by the lingering glow of the runes.
"You… saved me," he whispered.
The sparrow tilted its head slightly, then folded its wings, returning to its dormant state. The light faded.
Stephen stared up at the canopy, breath trembling.He didn't fully understand what had happened — only that the Azure Sparrow had acted on its own, instinctively protecting him.
And now… it had revealed a power he couldn't possibly explain to anyone.
"If anyone saw that," he muttered, "they'd drag me off before I could blink."
He slowly sat up, clutching his side. The mist had changed — it no longer felt empty, but watchful.Something had shifted in the rift.And somewhere far off, he could still feel the faint echo of the sparrow's cry…like a ripple spreading across unseen waters.