Chapter 94: Caelum Lysander

Unknown forest in Solvanyr kingdom,

The flickering hologram sharpened until the image of a small blue woman stood clear on Zayne’s technowatch. His eyes widened for a beat before narrowing, recognition sharp.

“What the hell are you doing here, Eirenyssa?” he demanded, leaning closer as if that would make the projection less surreal.

The holographic figure tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I am not Eirenyssa anymore… I am new. I am Eira. Your boss transformed me into a soul AI.”

Zayne blinked once, then twice. “…Ohhh.” His expression shifted from surprise to nonchalance in a heartbeat, as if he’d just been told the weather changed. “He didn’t kill you. That’s… random. But well—” he smirked, leaning back, “what can we say? It’s boss.”

Before Eira could respond, another voice cut sharply through the channel.

“You know I’m sitting right here,” came a voice identical to Zayne’s, smooth and laced with amusement. “And I can hear everything. What was that you were saying again, huh, Zayne?”

Zayne froze mid-smirk. A bead of sweat slid down his temple as his head jerked to the side, his expression stiff. Slowly, a shaky grin spread across his face, the kind only a man caught red-handed could muster.

“Hahaha… boss! I was talking about… about how great you are. Hah! Nothing else! Just admiration, really.”

The voice from the watch hummed dangerously. “Ohh… really?”

Zayne gulped, his grin widening unnaturally. “Y-yeah… really!”

Zane’s voice came back, this time tinged with faint amusement.

“Okk… I believe you. So, why did you call?”

Zayne sighed, shoulders slumping, though his mouth still twitched into a sheepish smile. “Boss, you know… you could’ve just used the Law of Knowledge. You’d have known all this without me calling.”

There was a pause. Then Zane’s voice came, utterly nonchalant:

“Nah… maybe in the next world.”

Zayne buried his face in his palm. “…Unbelievable.” He shook his head and then straightened. “Well, I was about to tell you—I came across something… interesting.”

His tone shifted, suddenly serious as he explained everything he had seen: the pale blue-haired, one-eyed injured young man lying broken in the dirt, his body slowly knitting itself back together with that healing divinity… and the battle that had destroyed most of the forest.

“And then,” Zayne finished, pointing casually with his thumb, “he was fighting something. Or rather… what’s left of it. Only the lower body remains. Purple skin, huge frame, strange markings all over.”

Eira’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp, her usual calm overtaken by urgency.

“…Purple skin?”

Her tone made Zayne blink. “Yeah.”

“Show me. Quickly.”

“Alright, alright. No need to yell.” Zayne adjusted his technowatch and aimed it at the grotesque remains. A faint light shot out, scanning the lower body from top to bottom. The data shimmered, then jumped across dimensions—

In Zane’s room , the holographic projection of Zayne flickered to the side, making space. A second hologram emerged, floating in eerie detail: the torn lower half of a monstrous body, its markings glowing faintly even in death.

Zane’s eyes sharpened instantly. Beside him, Eira’s form stiffened.

“…This is—” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

Zane didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“It’s an Abyssal,” Eira finally said, her voice tight.

Zayne blinked, his smirk faltering as confusion settled in.

“…A what now?”

Eira’s voice came sharp, almost scolding.

“Well, that doesn’t matter. That thing is dangerous. Its very body radiates corrupted mana. You shouldn’t take this lightly.”

Zayne just smirked, tilting his head. “A threat? Not to me. You forgot who I am?” His grin widened, teasing. “Or did you forget your beating…?”

A little blue vein popped cartoonishly on Eira’s holographic forehead, her digital form bristling. “You bastard—!”

“Enough, both of you.” Zane’s voice cut clean through the squabble, calm but carrying weight that silenced them instantly. “Zayne, heal that man. If he turns out interesting… or fun to play with, tell me.” He sounded almost bored as he leaned back from the holo-feed. “Anyway… bye. I’m watching something.”

The connection cut off in an instant, leaving only silence and the faint hum of the forest.

Zayne stared at his technowatch, then sighed deeply. “…Always in a hurry.” He scratched his cheek, then shrugged, the smirk creeping back onto his face. “Anyway. I got my permission.”

He turned toward the broken figure lying motionless in the dirt. The man’s pale-blue hair was matted with blood, his single open eye shut now, his chest rising faintly with each stubborn breath.

Zayne crouched, his violet eyes glimmering as he stretched out his hand.

“…Let’s heal you.”

With his palm leveled at the fallen man, a faint hum stirred in the air. At Zayne’s hand, light gathered and coalesced into a glowing green circle, intricate patterns spinning smoothly within.

“Heal,” he commanded lightly.

The circle detached from his palm and drifted forward, lowering until it touched the injured man’s head. Then it began to move — sliding slowly down through his body, like a spectral ring phasing through flesh and bone.

As the circle passed, torn muscles knit themselves together, blood flow ceased, shattered ribs aligned, and torn skin sealed seamlessly.

Zayne’s smirk tugged upward as he adjusted the output with a flick of his fingers.

“…Hmm. Maybe not give him his hand back. He can grow it on his own.” His voice was casual, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

The circle shimmered brighter, fine-tuning to his will. As it passed through the man’s face, the deep cut across his right eye faded until the flesh was whole again. His chest rose more steadily now, breathing stronger, his body restored… except for the missing left hand.

The green glow finally dissipated, leaving silence in its wake. The young-looking man lay there motionless, unconscious, his features at peace for the first time since the battle.

Zayne stood, dusting off his hands as though he’d just completed a minor chore. His gaze lingered on the pale-haired stranger, intrigue dancing in his light violet eyes.

“…Now let’s see what you really are,” he muttered.

The instant Zayne’s healing circle faded, the pale-blue-haired man stirred. His body twitched, chest rising sharply as if shocked awake.

Zayne straightened, his expression shifting instantly.

“Ok… acting mode,” he muttered under his breath. His smirk melted into a warm, almost friendly smile.

He crouched slightly, tilting his head. “Hey… wake up. Wake up…”

The man’s lone eye snapped open in an instant, icy-blue and sharp despite the exhaustion etched across his face. In a blur, he pushed himself upright, staggering but fueled by urgency.

Zayne didn’t move, his calm gaze watching every motion.

The stranger’s eye flicked to him for only a heartbeat—then immediately shifted past him. His focus locked onto the grotesque remains still standing nearby: the lower half of the Abyssal.

In a single motion, his hand darted to the ground, fingers closing around the hilt of his fallen blade. He lifted it, and from the tip bloomed a pure, radiant light. Without hesitation, he swung.

A streak of luminous energy cleaved across the air and struck the remains. The monstrous lower body disintegrated in an instant, scattering into nothing but drifting embers of corrupted mana that evaporated into the night.

Only when the last trace faded did the man finally exhale, shoulders sagging, his blade lowering slightly. A sigh escaped his lips, relief mingled with exhaustion.

Zayne’s smile lingered, violet eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“…Interesting.”

The pale-blue-haired man lowered his blade after the strike, exhaling heavily. But the moment he turned, his expression hardened again. His lone eye narrowed as he shifted into a guarded stance, blade raised between himself and Zayne.

“Who are you?” His voice was hoarse, yet steady. “I have to make sure your mana isn’t corrupted…”

Zayne lifted both hands slowly, putting on his best disarming smile. “Oh no, no. Relax. I’m the one who healed you.”

He straightened and tapped his chest lightly. “Name’s Zayne Creed.”

Then, as if remembering something, he let his smile falter into a sad little frown. His gaze dropped toward the man’s left side, and he pointed. “But… I couldn’t heal your arm fully.”

The stranger glanced down. His sleeve hung empty, blood no longer spilling but the limb still absent. The wound was sealed cleanly, but the loss remained.

Zayne sighed and tilted his head with a regretful look, every bit the picture of a kind stranger who’d done his best.

The pale-haired man didn’t lower his guard immediately. His lone eye sharpened, glowing faintly as he probed, scanning the flow of energy around Zayne. The air between them grew heavy for a moment… then softened.

Finally, the man eased his blade down, letting the point touch the ground. His tense shoulders slackened.

“…Your mana isn’t corrupted. Not a bit.”

For the first time, a faint smile curved his lips, weary but genuine. He straightened his posture and gave a slight nod.

“Hello, young man. I am Caelum Lysander.”

Zayne tilted his head, still keeping his harmless, friendly smile on. “You’re calling me young man? But you look about my age…”

Caelum chuckled faintly, his pale blue hair shifting as he laughed. “Hahaha, kid… you don’t understand. I am muc—”

Suddenly, his voice cut off. His eyes sharpened like blades, the air around him shifting as if he’d sensed something dreadful. His face darkened, jaw tightening.

“Oh no…” he muttered, a heavy seriousness overtaking his tone. His gaze snapped toward the forest’s shadowed edge. “They’re coming…!!!”

The calm silence of the clearing suddenly felt suffocating, the air dense with unseen hostility. Even before Zayne pretended to react, faint tremors echoed underfoot—like something vast and many moving was approaching.

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