Deep within Rhelga's domain, far below the living chambers and the soft glow of root-lanterns, the air grew colder and heavier. The two of them stood at the edge of a vast circular chamber whose floor simply ended. From the center of that abyss rose a single colossal root—black, glossy, and thicker than any tower—plunging straight down into darkness so absolute it seemed to swallow light itself. They had been standing there in silence for a long time.
Indura finally spoke.
"What is the purpose of this root? And why does this chamber even exist?"
Rhelga remained quiet for a moment, mismatched eyes fixed on the endless drop. When he answered, his voice was low and measured.
"When the Dark Disciple escaped, she was severely weakened. In that state, she created this root… and many others like it. Each one reaches down toward the planet's core for a single purpose." He turned his head slightly toward Indura. "To absorb the planet's energy for herself."
Indura tilted his head, studying the massive root.
"And what happens once the planet's energy runs out?"
A faint smile touched Rhelga's mouth.
"It is impossible for the energy to run out simply because one being is absorbing it. Chaos is the largest planet in the known reaches of this space. Its foundation is not a single core, but nine—nine planetary cores scattered throughout its depths, each one vast beyond ordinary measure. That is why the mana here is so wild and dense. It is the natural state of a world built on such a foundation."
Indura's eyes sharpened with surprise.
"Nine cores?"
Rhelga nodded once.
"Why do you think the very air of Chaos feels alive with power? It is the world's bones speaking."
Indura's lips curled slightly.
"If it truly has that many cores, then why is it still so difficult for me to absorb sufficient mana?"
"Do not forget what the Seed of Rebirth did to your body," Rhelga replied.
Indura waved a hand dismissively.
"I know. But there is something else that does not sit well with me."
"What is it?"
Indura was silent for several breaths. Then he gave a small shake of his head.
"It is nothing of importance."
His gaze returned to the black root. Something flickered behind his eyes.
"When we first entered this chamber… why was I able to absorb the dark energy this root emitted?"
Rhelga turned fully toward him.
"In the past, during the travels across the realms—"
Indura lifted a palm, cutting him off.
"Now is not the time for old stories."
Rhelga's teeth gritted behind a strained smile.
"If you refuse to learn the origin of your own power, you will not know how to move when you stumble into an unexpected situation."
Indura chuckled, the sound light and almost careless.
"Such things will not happen. I have already survived this far."
Rhelga stared at him for a long moment. A quiet disappointment settled in his mismatched eyes. He sighed.
"Your body carries a dark nature. Because of that, you can absorb dark energy. However… you cannot use it. What occurs is closer to nullification."
Indura's brows rose.
"Nullification?"
"Yes. Dark energy cannot affect you. Your body simply erases its influence upon contact."
"So I gain nothing from it, then?"
Rhelga's smile returned, thinner this time.
"That is the flaw your old self came to understand. Only a pure body can truly wield dark energy. It requires a pure host."
Indura frowned.
"I do not understand."
"In order to use dark energy—or even to hold it—your body must be empty of mana. Completely. No mana may exist within it. Only then does the body meet the conditions to become a proper host. Dark energy and mana cannot coexist inside the same vessel."
Indura drew a slow breath.
"If I encountered an enemy who could use dark energy… I would simply be—"
"Useless against their attacks," Rhelga finished for him with a quiet sigh. "Your old self reshaped that body specifically so it could adapt to dark attacks and wield dark energy in battle. Part of it failed. What remains is only the nullification." He glanced at the black root. "Fortunately, your flames already burn through divinity. Dark energy weakens divinity. And your flames, in turn, can burn through dark energy as well."
Indura folded his arms.
"I expected that much. The theory makes sense. There was a time I was wounded by divinity and could not transform again. My strength was reduced… until I fought a warrior who used dark energy. And then—"
He turned.
The space beside him was empty.
Indura blinked once, then let out a short, irritated sigh.
"I was just getting to the good part."
Something shifted in one of his pockets. He reached in and drew out a small, perfectly round orb. It was dark, almost matte, and completely silent in his palm—the core of the blessing that had once belonged to Amon. Indura brought it close to his face, studying the faint, sealed power within.
"If I were to destroy this," he murmured, "all hell would break loose."
A low sound rose from the abyss.
Indura's head snapped toward the drop. The noise was growing closer, a rush of displaced air climbing the shaft. In one smooth motion, he hid the core behind his back just as a dark figure shot upward out of the void and landed lightly on the stone edge.
Silver eyes met his.
Indura's expression eased into a smile.
"Shadow… what were you doing down there?"
Shadow straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.
"There was something I was curious about. There is not just one root. There are many, scattered throughout the depths. The further down you go, the more they begin to connect… until they become a single path."
Indura nodded, a flicker of genuine pride in his eyes.
"Impressive that you figured that out."
He tossed the dark core across the short distance. Shadow caught it without effort.
"I fear I would break that," Indura said casually. "Handle it for me."
Shadow turned the orb once in his fingers, studying it, then gave a small nod.
"You don't have to worry about it."
"Good."
Indura turned on his heel and walked out of the chamber without looking back, the heavy door sealing behind him with a soft thud.
Shadow remained at the edge of the abyss. He looked down at the silent core resting in his palm, then lifted his silver eyes to the enormous black root that plunged into the darkness below.
---------------
The upper chambers of the domain were warmer, lit by soft veins of amber light that pulsed slowly through the living walls. When Rhelga stepped through the arched entrance, he froze.
Vespera was bent over a low mat, carefully settling Sabrel's unconscious form against the soft surface. Her hands moved with quiet precision as she adjusted the woman's white hair away from her face.
Rhelga's throat worked.
"Vespera."
She blinked once, then rose without hurry and began walking toward the far exit.
"What happened?" he called after her.
Vespera stopped. Her golden eyes remained lowered.
"Sabrel is fine. She is only exhausted. She needs rest."
Rhelga's gaze flicked to the sleeping girl, then back to Vespera's back.
"What happened out there? What about the beast?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy and deliberate. At last Vespera spoke, her voice even.
"It is still alive."
She lifted her foot to continue walking.
"Please," Rhelga said, quieter now. "Join me. It has been a long time since we last spoke properly."
Vespera paused. A soft sigh left her. She turned around with measured calm.
Rhelga moved to a nearby table, pulled out a chair, and gestured to it. The air still carried the rich scent of roasted meat and herbs from an earlier meal.
Vespera glanced at the chair with cool judgment, then sat.
Her eyes traveled across the chamber—the shelves of old tomes, the pulsing root-veins in the walls, the quiet weight of a place hidden from the sky.
"The King of Elves," she said, "hiding down here away from the light."
Rhelga's mismatched eyes softened.
"You know why I remain here. And hearing you call me that in this era… feels wrong."
"Yes," Vespera replied. "Because you let your people down."
Rhelga said nothing.
Vespera's gaze drifted to his withered arm and lingered there. Another quiet breath left her.
"Sabrel and I did everything we could against the Matriarch. It was simply too durable. Fighting beneath the open sun weakened me further. In the end we were forced to retreat… though not before leaving it on death's door."
Rhelga's eyes narrowed.
"Of course it would not fall easily. But in its current state I could finish what you began."
"Do not bother," Vespera said. "There are other ways to obtain vast amounts of mana."
A complicated expression crossed Rhelga's face—frustration, calculation, and something close to fear for the future.
"We need the Matriarch's core and its hearts. Leaving it alive will only delay Indura's growth."
Vespera's lips curved into a thin, knowing smile.
"There are always other ways."
Rhelga studied her for a long moment, then glanced at the sleeping Sabrel. His voice dropped.
"What truly happened out there, Vespera?"
The chamber fell into a deep, watchful quiet. The only sound was the faint pulse of the living walls.
Then the air at the center of the floor twisted.
A dark, swirling aperture tore open without warning—black and fluid, like a wound in space. From within it, a bound figure was hurled forward and slammed hard against the stone. Thick tendrils of darkness still coiled tightly around the body.
Rhelga's hand flew to his staff, eyes widening.
"Fang?"
The Veinborn lay unconscious, his amber eyes closed, body restrained from shoulder to ankle by the living darkness. Blood and dirt streaked his face.
Vespera rose slowly to her feet, golden eyes fixed on the captive.
From the same swirling aperture, Shadow stepped out. The portal collapsed behind him with a soft, final sound. He stood there for a moment, silver eyes calm, and released a quiet sigh.
"We have a problem."