The encounter with the corrupted beast and the Ascendant one had shaken Shawn to his core. As he lay on the riverbank, exhausted and trembling, he couldn't stop his mind from replaying the scene. The sheer disparity in power was unfathomable. He had barely escaped with his life, yet the Ascendant had erased the monster with a mere wave of his hand.
"Is that what true strength looks like?" Shawn muttered under his breath, his fingers clenching into the damp earth. He had struggled, fought, and nearly died. But that being… that entity had dismissed the nightmare as if it were an insect. He shuddered, recalling the memories of this body's previous owner—the fall of the Starborn Clan. If such beings roamed the world, was there even a way to stand against them?
He sat up slowly, his muscles aching but already beginning to heal thanks to the Lifeblood coursing through his veins. The restorative energy flowed into his wounded flesh, knitting him back together. It was a painful reminder that while his body grew stronger, his mind and power were still leagues behind those who truly ruled this world.
"Speaking of Fate... Elaris, I want to grow strong enough to break the chains of fate. I don't want someone watching me grow, knowing every move I make. But that's not for now. I need strength to survive first."
His voice held a quiet determination. He had spent too long simply surviving, trapped in an endless cycle of battle and pain. He was only sixteen. When was he ever given the chance to live? To enjoy life? He had been running since the day he arrived in this world.
"I'm tired of surviving," he confessed. "I want to live. I want to make friends, experience what it means to be young. A life of constant battle is exhausting. Also... your name is too long. Is Ela good for you?"
There was a brief silence before Elaris chuckled softly. "Finally, you have come to your senses, Shawn. You are still a child, no matter how much the world tries to mold you otherwise. But yes, you need to be strong—strong enough to protect the ones you care for. There is no rush. You will get there, I am sure of it."
Her voice softened as she added, "And I love the name Ela."
Shawn allowed himself a small smile before finding a sturdy tree to rest in. The night was mercifully peaceful, free from the horrors that had chased him before. When morning came, he wasted no time. He had to find his way home. The spatial rift had thrown him far from his intended path, and without a clear direction, he was forced to rely on trial and error.
Hours passed as he navigated through dead ends and dense terrain, pausing occasionally to hunt small creatures. His new body felt more refined, his movements sharper. He had entered this place as a boy, but now, as he examined himself, he realized he had changed. He was taller, his once-childish features sculpted into something more mature. His silver-grey hair flowed like liquid moonlight, and his body—once lean—had developed into something stronger, more capable.
Though he could not see himself, he knew his transformation was significant.
But none of that mattered if he couldn't make it out alive.
The journey back would take a full day at least, but with his heightened perception—Sound Tide—he had an advantage. He could extend his senses nearly seventy meters, mapping out potential threats by measuring their life force. It was a powerful tool, one that reassured him that survival was within his grasp.
Still, nightfall in the forest was something he desperately wanted to avoid. He smeared mud over his body to mask his scent—his only means of avoiding detection. With the ring Rian had given him destroyed, he had to rely on primal methods to stay hidden.
Hours passed. His feet ached, his stomach grumbled, but he pressed on. Then, at the edge of his perception, something caught his attention. Smoke. Human presence.
Hope flickered within him, but he knew better than to trust it blindly. Hope was both a gift and a curse, often leading men to their deaths. Still, if there were humans here, they might help him reach home faster. He approached carefully, his senses stretched out, his body tensed for any sign of hostility.
A campfire. Two tents. An old man sat beside the fire, smoking a pipe and turning slabs of meat over the flames. He was calm, unbothered by the dangers of the forest. That in itself was unsettling.
"Hey, kid. Come closer. Beasts are still prowling," the old man called without even looking at him.
Shawn hesitated. There was something about the man's tone that made it difficult to disobey. Reluctantly, he stepped forward.
"Hey, Grandpa, who are you talking to?" came a youthful, feminine voice from one of the tents.
"Just a visitor, Jena," the old man replied.
Shawn reached the fire and took a seat on a log nearby. The warmth seeped into his cold, aching limbs.
"You look like you crawled out of hell, son," the old man remarked, taking a slow drag from his pipe. "You should take a look at yourself."
Shawn frowned. "I'm blind," he said simply.
The old man stiffened before sighing. "Apologies. Didn't mean to be insensitive."
A rustling sound came from the tent as Jena, the owner of the voice, stepped out. She had sharp eyes and an inquisitive look. "Why does he look like a swamp monster, Grandpa? And who is he?"
Shawn introduced himself with a flat voice, his mind still wary of these strangers.
The old man studied him carefully. "You came from the inner forest, didn't you?"
Shawn didn't want to reveal the truth. "I was hunting. Training before I join a school."
The old man seemed to accept the answer without pressing further. "Here, eat. You have no game with you, which means you failed your hunt."
A plate of food was handed to him. Shawn didn't hesitate. Hunger clawed at his insides, and he tore into the meal like a starving wolf. The rich, seasoned meat was a welcome change from the bland, roasted animals he had survived on. His plate was emptied in seconds, and he was given another. Then a third.
Jena watched him with a mix of fascination and mild disgust. "Do all boys eat like that? No manners at all."
Shawn ignored her. Right now, food was the only thing that mattered.
As he ate, a single thought remained at the back of his mind.
He had survived the corrupted beast. He had witnessed power beyond comprehension.
But something told him his journey was only beginning.