CHAPTER 25 — THE PATH THAT LEADS BACK
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Night had fully fallen when the three of them finally reached the edge of the forest. Or at least, that was what they thought.
Kyoichiiro walked in front, as usual. His steps were no longer as fast as before—his legs were beginning to feel heavy, and his usually sharp eyes now narrowed slightly from exhaustion settling into his bones. He hadn't eaten dinner, hadn't drunk water since leaving the inn, and had just expended no small amount of physical and mental energy dealing with two magical creatures in the dungeon, two thugs in an alley, one mysterious merchant in the black market, and one entity underground whose voice still echoed in his ears.
Behind him, Aetheria walked with dragging steps. Her long blonde hair now looked dull from dust and dried sweat. The simple dress she wore—still neat that morning—was now full of wrinkles and soil stains at its hem. Her hand still occasionally clutched her own sleeve hem, a nervous habit that surfaced whenever she felt insecure.
Amura walked on Aetheria's other side. His left hand—which usually gripped the hilt of his second sword tightly—was now empty. Only the shattered sword hilt remained tucked into his belt, a reminder that power wasn't always enough. His other sword was still intact at his right side, but he didn't touch it. He just walked, eyes straight ahead, occasionally glancing left and right to make sure no one was following them.
The forest around them grew darker. The tall trees, whose beauty could still be appreciated under the afternoon sun, were now just towering black pillars, their leaves merging with the starry night sky. No moon. There was never a moon in this world—Kyoichiiro had realized that long ago. Only stars, extraordinarily numerous, shining brightly above their heads, as if this universe were denser than it should be.
But tonight, even the stars felt distant.
No sound. No crickets, no owls, no rustling leaves from small animals scurrying about. Only the wind—thin, cold, and occasionally blowing with a strange scent of damp earth, like the smell after rain, but there was no rain.
Amura: (Breaking the silence, his voice low, almost a whisper) "Kyoichiiro-san... do you feel it?"
Kyoichiiro: (Not turning, but slowing his pace slightly) "Feel what?"
Amura: "The silence. It's not normal. We should be at the forest edge by now, we should be hearing the sounds of the town or at least cart wheels from the main road. But there's nothing."
Kyoichiiro stopped. He frowned—not because he didn't believe Amura, but because he had only just realized the truth of his words. He had been too focused on the path ahead, on the relief of leaving that empty house, to pay close attention to his surroundings.
He looked left, then right. Trees. Trees. Trees. No town lights in the distance. No sounds at all. No food smells from the market. Just the same forest, with the same trees, the same path.
Kyoichiiro: (To himself) We're still inside the forest. But... haven't we walked far enough?
He observed his surroundings again, this time more carefully. Those trees—he recognized some of them. A crooked tree with a broken branch on its left side. A thorny bush with small white flowers blooming at the tips of its twigs. A large moss-covered boulder at the roadside.
They had passed these before. An hour ago. Or maybe two. When they first walked toward the empty house.
Kyoichiiro: (Voice flat, but with an unusual note of tension) "We're going in circles."
Aetheria: (Startled) "What? That's impossible—I'm sure we walked straight!"
Kyoichiiro: (Pointing to the crooked tree beside him) "That tree. I remember it. We passed it when we first entered the forest. Now we're passing it again. Yet we should be walking in the opposite direction—out of the forest, not deeper in."
Amura: (Silent, his eyes moving quickly from tree to tree) "Maybe we took a wrong turn? Or maybe..."
He didn't continue. Because he, too, was beginning to recognize this environment. The mossy boulder. The thorny bush with white flowers. Even their own footprints—the ones they had made when they first came—were still visible on the dusty ground, stretching in the same direction they were heading now.
Not outward. Inward. Back to the empty house.
Aetheria: (Her voice beginning to tremble) "Kyoichiiro-san... I'm scared."
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling slowly, his mind racing. This didn't make sense. They had walked straight. They hadn't turned. They had followed the same path they had taken when they came. They should have reached the forest edge thirty minutes ago.
But they hadn't.
And that was when he felt it.
A vibration.
Not in the ground. Not in the air. But in his pocket. In the right pocket of his pants, where he kept the bluish-gray crystal given to him by that mysterious merchant.
The crystal was vibrating. Softly at first, like a faint heartbeat. Then faster. Stronger. The vibration spread through the fabric of his pants to his skin, making his thigh tingle—but not a pleasant tingle. An uneasy one. Like a warning.
Kyoichiiro: (Exhaling, his hand going to his pocket, feeling the crystal) "Wait."
He took out the crystal.
In his palm, the bluish-gray crystal was glowing. Not brightly, but enough to draw attention in the forest darkness. Its light was soft, greenish-blue, pulsing like a lamp being turned on and off rapidly. Its pulse was irregular—sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes pausing for a moment before pulsing again.
Amura: (Moving closer, his eyes fixed on the crystal) "That's... what did that merchant say? If you're in a critical situation, this crystal will glow and give you direction?"
Kyoichiiro: (Nodding, his voice flat but his eyes unblinking from the crystal) "Yes. But he also said this thing can't always be relied on. In that place... magical energy fluctuates often."
Aetheria: (Whispering) "But we're not in that place now. We're in the forest. Far from the empty house."
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. Because he didn't know what to say.
And as he kept staring at the crystal, something strange happened.
The crystal not only pulsed. The crystal moved.
Slowly at first, as if blown by the wind. Then faster, more certain. It vibrated in Kyoichiiro's palm, then—without warning—it lifted off. Leaving his palm, hovering in the air about ten centimeters above his fingers.
Aetheria: (Covering her mouth, eyes wide) "It's... flying?!"
Amura: (His right hand moving to the hilt of his remaining sword) "Kyoichiiro-san... are you sure that thing is safe?"
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. He wasn't sure. But he also had no choice.
The crystal spun slowly in the air, as if determining its direction. Its previously irregularly pulsing light now became steady—bright, constant, like a small lamp glowing in the darkness. Then, with a decisive motion, the crystal pointed.
Behind them.
Toward the empty house.
Kyoichiiro: (Silent, his eyes following the crystal's direction) "It wants us to go back."
Amura: (Frowning) "We just came from there. What could we gain by going back?"
Kyoichiiro: "I don't know. But this crystal wouldn't move without reason."
He reached out his hand, trying to grab the crystal. The crystal pulled back—slightly, as if dodging. Kyoichiiro reached again. The crystal pulled back again, but this time also spun, pointing in the same direction with more insistence.
Kyoichiiro: (To himself) This isn't just a warning. This is... direction. This crystal wants us to go somewhere. And that somewhere, apparently, is that empty house again.
He withdrew his hand. The crystal stopped moving, hovering still in the air, still pointing the same way.
Kyoichiiro: (Turning to Amura and Aetheria) "It seems we have no choice. We follow the crystal."
Amura: (Hesitant) "But—"
Kyoichiiro: (Cutting in, his voice firm but not loud) "We can't keep walking through this forest without knowing where we're going. We've gone in circles at least once, maybe more. This crystal might be the only thing that can lead us to the right path."
Aetheria: (Silent, biting her lower lip, then nodding slowly) "I... I'll follow you, Kyoichiiro-san."
Amura: (Sighing, releasing his grip from his sword hilt) "Alright. I'm in."
Kyoichiiro nodded. Without another word, he began walking in the direction the crystal pointed. The crystal moved ahead of him, hovering about a meter in front of his face, its steady light illuminating the dark path.
They walked in tense silence. The sound of their footsteps on the dry leaves—crunch, crunch, crunch—was the only sound accompanying their journey. No wind. No insects. Even the sound of their own breathing seemed swallowed by the darkness, never returning as an echo.
Aetheria walked beside Kyoichiiro, occasionally glancing back to make sure Amura was still there. Amura walked behind, his eyes constantly moving, sometimes watching the crystal floating ahead, sometimes watching the trees to the side.
Eight minutes passed. Maybe more. It was hard to measure time in a place with no markers other than one's own footsteps.
And ahead of them, like a nightmare that refused to end, the empty house reappeared.
Its roof, missing tiles in several places. Its peeling paint. Its dark windows with no light from within. Its front yard overgrown with knee-high weeds. Everything exactly the same as when they had left it an hour—or maybe two—ago.
The crystal stopped before the house's door, its light pulsing three times, then pointed inside.
Kyoichiiro: (Stopping, his eyes narrowing) "It wants us to go in."
Amura: (From behind, his voice full of disbelief) "We just came out of there. What's the point of going back in?"
Kyoichiiro: "I don't know. But this crystal wouldn't have led us here without a reason."
He stepped forward. His hand touched the door handle—the wood was still cold, still damp, just as when he first touched it. He pushed.
The door opened with the same creaking sound. Long. Piercing. Like a lament.
They entered.
Inside, everything was the same. The empty living room with its worn-out sofa and broken-legged wooden table. The walls covered in scratches and gouges. Dust in the air, swirling with each step.
The crystal floated inside, past the living room, past the narrow hallway, toward the end—toward where the dark wooden door stood. Behind that door, beneath this house, lay the underground passage leading to the iron gate and the entity whose voice still echoed in their ears.
Kyoichiiro: (Stopping before that door, staring at the crystal hovering before him) "We have to go down again."
Aetheria: (Her voice trembling) "Kyoichiiro-san... can't we... can't we wait until tomorrow?"
Kyoichiiro: (Turning to Aetheria, his eyes calm but with a note of weariness in them) "I don't want to either. But look."
He pointed at the crystal. Its light, previously steady, was now flickering faster. Its vibration, previously soft, was now noticeable in the air—as if something was approaching. Something making this crystal panic.
Kyoichiiro: (Continuing, his voice softer) "This crystal isn't just pointing the way. It's also warning of danger. And if it's warning of danger, yet leading us back here... it means this place, or something inside it, is the only safe place right now."
Amura: (Silent, processing those words) "Or... this place is the source of the danger, and this crystal wants us to face it."
Kyoichiiro didn't argue. He considered that possibility too. That they were being led into a trap, that this crystal was bait, that the mysterious merchant wasn't just an information seller but part of something larger. Yet at the same time, he also considered another possibility: that there was no choice. That the invisible wall in the forest was still there, that they would never escape this forest if they didn't do what the crystal demanded.
Kyoichiiro: (Exhaling, his hand pressing down on the wooden door handle) "We go down. But this time, we're more prepared."
He pushed the door.
The door opened. Beyond it, the dark underground passage welcomed them—not with the greenish glow as before, but with total darkness. Even the crystal's light, floating ahead, wasn't enough to illuminate the entire passage. Only the first few steps were visible.
Kyoichiiro: "Amura, light your fire."
Amura: (Nodding, raising his palm) "Right."
A small fireball ignited in his palm. Warm orange light spread, illuminating the underground passage better. The damp earthen walls, the ceiling lined with dangling tree roots, the creaking wooden steps—all visible now.
Kyoichiiro stepped down. One. Two. Three. The crystal floated ahead, still pointing downward, into the passage.
Aetheria followed behind, her hand holding the hem of Kyoichiiro's robe. Not tightly, but enough to feel she wasn't alone. Amura walked at the rear, his fireball in one hand, his remaining sword in the other—though he wouldn't be able to use that sword effectively in this narrow passage.
They descended. Forty-two steps. The wood creaked beneath their feet, singing in the same pitches as the first time. The distant dripping water still sounded steady—drip, drip, drip—like a heartbeat that never stopped.
At the bottom of the stairs, the earthen passage stretched straight ahead. No branches. No turns. Just a straight line stretching into the darkness.
And at the end of that passage, the same greenish glow—dim, not bright, but enough to see the black iron gate before it.
The crystal floated faster now, as if impatient. It pierced through the darkness, its bluish-gray light mingling with the gate's greenish glow, creating a strange color—like an underground aurora.
They walked faster, following the crystal. Kyoichiiro in front, his eyes unblinking from the approaching iron gate. Aetheria behind, her breath short and shallow. Amura behind her, his fireball still lit, though its light was no longer needed.
And when they reached the gate, the crystal stopped.
It hovered in the air, directly before the iron bars, its light pulsing in the same rhythm as Kyoichiiro's heartbeat. Then, slowly, it descended—touching the ground before the gate, stopping its movement.
Kyoichiiro: (Looking down at the crystal) "We've arrived."
Aetheria: (Whispering) "What... what do we do now?"
Kyoichiiro didn't know. He stared at that black iron gate—its cold bars, its frame fused with the earthen walls, the darkness beyond that light couldn't penetrate. And he remembered that voice. The voice that had touched his fingers. The voice that had asked for "something more precious."
Kyoichiiro: (To himself) What are they looking for? Money? Slaves? Or... something else?
He exhaled. His hand went to the katana at his waist—the sword he had forged himself, made with his own hands, never yet used to kill a human. Should he use it now? Should he face whatever was beyond this gate?
Or should he wait, as he had said before?
Amura: (From behind, his voice low) "Kyoichiiro-san. If we have to fight, I still have one sword left. Not as strong as the old one, but enough."
Aetheria: (Her hand gripping the hem of Kyoichiiro's robe tighter) "I... I'll heal you. If anyone gets hurt."
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. He just stood there, staring at that black iron gate, his mind racing for answers.
And from beyond the gate, from within the darkness, the voice returned.
Voice from Beyond the Gate: (A whisper, soft, but clear in their ears) "Back again... without a gift... but with greater curiosity..."
Kyoichiiro felt his hair stand on end. His hand on the katana's hilt clenched.
Voice from Beyond the Gate: (Continuing, its tone unreadable—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh) "Strange boy... strange children... what makes you keep returning to a place you fear?"
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. He just stared into the darkness beyond the bars, trying to see—trying to understand—who or what was speaking.
And in his hand, the bluish-gray crystal began to vibrate again. Not a warning. Not fear. But... hope? Or perhaps, a final warning.
Kyoichiiro: (Whispering, barely audible) "We have no choice. We have to talk to it."
Amura: (Startled) "Talk? To... to that thing?"
Kyoichiiro: (Nodding, his voice firm) "Yes. Because maybe... maybe that's what it wants. Not a gift. Not money. But... a conversation."
He stepped forward, approaching the iron gate, until the distance between his face and the bars was only a few centimeters. He could feel the cold of the iron on his skin. He could smell a strange scent from beyond the gate—a smell he couldn't describe, like the earth after rain, but older. Deeper.
Kyoichiiro: (Voice flat, but with an unusual tremor beneath) "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. But I'm here. I'm listening. So... speak."
Silence.
And from beyond the gate, from within the darkness that light could not penetrate, the voice laughed. Softly. Longly. Like the laugh of someone who hadn't heard a human voice in a very long time.
Voice from Beyond the Gate: "Finally... someone willing to listen without trying to cut me first."
Kyoichiiro didn't move. Aetheria and Amura behind him didn't either. They just stood, holding their breath, waiting.
Above them, on the surface, the stars continued to shine in a night sky that never had a moon. And underground, in depths unreachable by sunlight, a conversation between a human and something not human—between the living and that which might already be dead—began.