Chapter 93: Something Interesting

Somewhere in unknown forest…

Near border of Valdoria kingdom,

The forest was alive with whispers. Towering trunks blotted out much of the moonlight, their branches weaving a lattice of shifting shadows. In the middle of that thick, unknown wilderness at the edge of Valdoria kingsom near Solvanyr the kingdom of humans, a lone fire crackled. Sparks drifted upward, devoured by the dark canopy above.

Before the fire sat a man — lean and relaxed, his coat resting over a fallen log. A thin skewer of meat hissed over the flames, fat dripping into the coals.

His face was familiar, the kind that would draw a double take from anyone who knew Zane Creed. But his eyes told the difference: a pale, luminous violet, not the deep imperial purple of the original. This was not the teacher who walked Astralis Arcanum’s halls, but the one who chose to live as an adventurer.

Zayne Creed.

He turned the skewer lazily, watching the edges char, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The wilderness pressed in from all sides, yet there was no hint of tension in his movements — only calm, as though the forest itself bent to his presence.

Zayne leaned back slightly, savoring the warmth of the fire. The aroma of grilled meat curled through the night air. He pulled the skewer from above the flames, blew lightly, and took a bite.

“Mhm…” he murmured to himself, chewing slowly. A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Sometimes, camping outside is quite good.”

Another bite followed, crisp edges and smoky flavor melting on his tongue. “Hmm… tasty.” His pale violet eyes narrowed in amusement as he twirled the half-finished skewer.

His gaze drifted past the firelight, into the endless dark. “So… I’ve almost made it out of Valdoria’s borders. Next stop… Solvanyr.”

But then, he froze mid-motion. The relaxed air around him shifted, and the faint smile faded. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear.

“…Hmm. I’m sensing something.”

The night seemed to still in response, as though the forest itself was holding its breath. Zayne studied the shadows for a moment longer before smirking again.

“Well then… let’s see what that is.”

He casually tapped the skewer against the fire once, extinguishing its glow before slipping it neatly into his dimensional bag. Rising to his feet, he dusted his hands, and without another word, his figure blurred. With a ripple of mana, he lifted into the air and disappeared into the night sky, leaving only the dying fire crackling in the silence

Wind whipped past him as he soared through the night sky, pale violet eyes scanning the dark canopy below. His senses sharpened, tugging him toward a point farther ahead.

“There it is…” Zayne muttered, his voice low, carried away by the wind.

He descended slowly, boots touching down in the clearing of another forest, deeper and more untamed than the last. The earth here felt heavy with mana, as though the land itself bore witness to something hidden.

“I sensed something… or someone here,” he said under his breath, his gaze sweeping the shadows.

A sudden blast ripped through the night — the thunder of clashing forces shaking the ground beneath his feet. Sparks of mana flared in the distance, painting the treetops with violent flashes of color.

Zayne tilted his head, smirking slightly. “Hmm… a fight. That’s what I was sensing.”

Another detonation boomed, followed by a rush of energy so sharp it prickled against his skin. He narrowed his eyes, measuring the flow, the sheer weight of the combatants’ strikes.

“And the scale behind it…” He chuckled faintly, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “…quite good, too.”

The violent clamor in the distance cut off abruptly. No more explosions, no more crashes — just silence, broken only by the restless crackle of fire consuming what the battle had left behind.

Zayne hovered for a moment, then exhaled lightly. “…Hmm. Looks like the fight is over.”

With unhurried steps, he walked in the direction of the fading echoes. The dense forest stretched endlessly, yet the trail was unmistakable. Soon, the trees around him thinned… and then, the sight unfolded before him.

What had once been an ancient forest was now nothing more than scorched earth and shattered trunks. Ash still drifted in the air, glowing faintly under the moonlight. Of the vast woodland, nearly eighty percent lay annihilated — blackened and broken. Only the small section where Zayne had first landed stood untouched, as though spared by sheer coincidence.

He stepped forward, boots crunching over charred soil, and emerged into the open devastation. His pale violet gaze swept over the scene.

At the very center, a lone figure knelt amidst the ruin. A young-looking man, his pale-blue hair matted with dirt and blood, his equally pale eyes clouded with exhaustion. His body was a tapestry of injuries — cuts, burns, and bruises covering him from head to toe. But most striking of all… his left arm was missing entirely, severed in the battle.And across his face ran a deep, savage cut slashing over his right eye, leaving it swollen shut. Only his left eye, dull but faintly flickering with willpower, remained open as he struggled to stay conscious.

Before him lay the remains of his opponent — if it could even be called that. Only the lower half of a massive creature remained, the rest obliterated. Its skin was a sickly purple, stretched taut over thick, grotesque muscle. Strange markings — jagged, almost runic — wound across its flesh, glowing faintly even in death. The sheer scale of it dwarfed a human body several times over.

Zayne’s eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of amusement breaking through his calm expression. “…Well now. What do we have here?”

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The wounded man finally lost the strength to stay upright. With a faint, ragged exhale, his body gave out and he collapsed forward, face-down on the scorched earth. Dust rose around him, swirling briefly in the faint night breeze before settling.

Zayne didn’t rush. He simply walked toward the fallen figure, hands casually resting behind his back, as though strolling through a garden rather than a battlefield. His steps were calm, deliberate, unhurried.

When he came close enough, his smirk widened, and his pale violet eyes glimmered faintly with interest.

“…Hmm.”

He crouched slightly, tilting his head as he studied the unconscious figure.

“He looks like a young man on the outside… but his soul tells another story.”

His voice was low, almost thoughtful, yet laced with amusement.

“Not a transmigrated soul. Not a reincarnated one either. Just… a normal soul that’s lived far longer than this body suggests. How intriguing.”

Zayne’s gaze sharpened suddenly, his smirk deepening.

“Oh? What’s this I’m seeing?”

A faint shimmer radiated around the man’s battered form — subtle, nearly imperceptible to most. But to Zayne, it was obvious. The glimmer of something far rarer than flesh and bone.

“…A fragment of pure mana.” He paused, then chuckled softly. “No… not just mana. Should I call it divinity instead?”

He straightened, eyes narrowing as he compared the faint glow to something he’d sensed before.

“It’s similar to that woman, Eirenyssa. But weaker. Much weaker. …Hmm, maybe that’s the reason for his youthful appearance. His body is being forcefully sustained by it.”

Zayne’s smirk lingered as his eyes roamed over the broken figure at his feet.

“Injured this badly, missing a hand, half his blood already spilled… and yet his soul still clings on.” He let out a light chuckle, almost admiring. “That pure mana is working… healing him, slowly, stubbornly.” His tone turned amused. “Heh… fascinating. Not many would survive wounds like these.”

Straightening, Zayne shifted his gaze toward the other presence nearby. The remains of the opponent. Only the lower half of the creature stood upright, unmoving, as if even in death its body resisted collapse. Its purple skin gleamed faintly under the moonlight, strange markings still glowing faintly along its flesh.

Zayne walked toward it, hands slipping into his coat pockets. He circled the grotesque remains once, studying like a predator sizing up prey.

“…Hmm.” His eyes narrowed with intrigue. “This one’s no ordinary thing either.”

He crouched slightly, the faint glow from the sigils reflecting in his eyes. “I can sense it… a trace of mana in its body. Similar to that man’s.” His smirk sharpened, almost predatory. “…But opposite.”

His voice dropped to a low murmur, half to himself.

“Where his mana carries purity… this thing holds corruption. A devouring, twisting energy. A force meant not to heal, but to corrupt.”

Zayne let out a soft laugh and stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his hands. His violet eyes gleamed with excitement as he glanced between the fallen man and the slain creature.

“…Something really interesting is going on here.”

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Zayne crouched slightly, eyes scanning the pale-blue haired figure. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“…Alright… let’s heal this guy.”

He leaned forward, preparing to channel a sliver of energy to stabilize the young man. But then he paused, hand mid-air, a thoughtful frown crossing his face.

“Wait… hold on.” He tapped his chin. “…Should I first inform the boss? Or maybe this is part of his plan… if I just go and fix him, he’ll beat the hell out of me. …Nah, I don’t want that beating.”

He straightened and tapped his technowatch lightly.

“Computer, connect me to boss.”

A soft beep echoed from the device.

“Command obliged,” came the mechanical voice, smooth and precise. The watch flickered, and a faint bluish glow coalesced into a holographic blur.

The holographic display shimmered to life, a blue holographic figure materializing on the watch screen.

Zayne blinked.

“…What the—”

Instead of Zane, the familiar visage of a woman appeared. Long, otherworldly features but blue. Her voice came smooth and composed.

“Hello.”

Zayne’s smirk dropped completely, replaced by shock. His eyes widened, and he pointed at the projection like a man who’d just seen a ghost.

“Wha—what the hell are you doing here… Eirenyssa?!”

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