The black bird was gone.
Only the red moon remained.
The mountain had fallen silent.
Then—
the dead turned.
Hundreds of empty faces lifted toward the Traveler.
They began walking.
The elder sister stepped backward.
"Traveler..."
He didn't answer.
The corpses came closer.
One stumbled through the flowers.
Another dragged a broken leg behind it.
Another crawled.
The Traveler stood perfectly still.
Then—
he raised his head.
Something was wrong.
His eyes were no longer merely blind.
They were completely black.
No white.
No pupil.
No reflection.
Nothing.
The elder sister froze.
"Your eyes..."
The Traveler slowly tilted his head.
The dead continued approaching.
One reached him.
Its hands seized his shoulders.
The Traveler didn't react.
Another grabbed his arm.
A third reached toward his throat.
He simply looked at them.
Then—
his hand closed around the nearest corpse's wrist.
The corpse stopped.
A thin black smoke began leaking from its body.
The smoke crawled across its skin.
The corpse began trembling.
The elder sister stared.
"What is happening?"
The Traveler said nothing.
The black smoke thickened.
It poured from the corpse's mouth.
Its eyes.
The cracks between its fingers.
The dead creature tried to pull away.
It couldn't.
The Traveler's grip tightened.
The smoke completely consumed it.
For one moment—
there was only a human-shaped silhouette inside the darkness.
Then the silhouette collapsed.
The corpse became ash.
It fell between the Traveler's fingers.
The elder sister stepped backward.
The Traveler looked at the ashes.
He tilted his head again.
Almost curiously.
Another corpse attacked.
The Traveler caught its hand.
Black smoke erupted.
It consumed the body from the point of contact outward.
The corpse collapsed into ash.
Another attacked.
The same thing happened.
Another.
Ash.
Another.
Ash.
The dead kept coming.
The Traveler kept touching them.
And every time—
the black smoke appeared.
Then nothing remained.
The elder sister stared at him.
He wasn't fighting anymore.
He wasn't even moving like the man she had met.
His movements were calm.
Precise.
Almost indifferent.
A thin strand of black smoke escaped from the corner of his left eye.
Then another from the right.
The smoke curled downward across his cheeks.
The elder sister whispered,
"...Traveler?"
The figure turned toward her.
His black eyes met hers.
No recognition.
No confusion.
No fear.
For a moment—
she felt as though she was standing before something that had been waiting behind his face all along.
Then his lips moved.
His voice was different.
Colder.
Deeper.
Almost ancient.
"Don't call me that."
The elder sister stopped breathing.
The figure looked toward the remaining dead.
They were still coming.
He tilted his head.
Then—
he stepped forward.
The dead rushed him.
He raised one hand.
Black smoke spread across his fingers.
The nearest corpse touched it.
Ash.
The next.
Ash.
The next.
Ash.
The Blood Moon continued shining overhead.
But beneath it—
the dead were disappearing one after another.
The elder sister watched in silence.
She finally understood something.
The Traveler hadn't suddenly become stronger.
Something else had awakened.
Something that had been watching through him.
Something that knew exactly what it was doing.
The figure slowly looked toward the red moon.
Black smoke continued drifting from his eyes.
And somewhere deep inside that body—
the Traveler remained trapped behind his own consciousness.
Watching.
Unable to speak.
Unable to move.
While another self stood in his place.
Arafial.
And for the first time—
Arafial had taken the body back.