Chapter 455: 455

Then—something moved.

His breath caught in his throat.

A massive eye, the size of his entire body, snapped open within the void.

It was not human. Not beast. Not anything he could name.

It was watching him.

A guttural scream tore from his lips as he flung the crystal away, stumbling backward, his hands shaking violently. His panicked retreat sent a ripple of fear through the others, and instinctively, they all stepped back from the shard, as if it carried some lingering malice.

The crystal landed with a soft thud against the dirt, but no one moved to retrieve it.

For several moments, only the sound of ragged breathing filled the space.

Something had stared back.

And it knew they had seen it.

Osita’s son and his men, who had scaled the crystallized mountain, paused in their ascent when they noticed the disturbance below. The sight of the shaman recoiling in terror was enough to make them uneasy. From their vantage point, they could see the others shifting nervously, their eyes locked on the crystal that had been cast aside.

A strange tension lingered in the air.

They exchanged glances before looking down at the mountain beneath their feet. The crystalline surface was eerily smooth in some areas, jagged in others—almost as if it had grown rather than simply formed. The thought unsettled them.

But their attention was soon drawn to something else.

A new presence.

Nwadiebube and his group had also sensed it, their conversations cutting short as their gazes turned toward the approaching figures.

Without warning, a shimmering portal tore open, revealing a swirling expanse of ethereal energy. From within, towering figures emerged—Aqua, Brix, and a host of other elemental treants. Their forms, ancient and majestic, pulsed with raw spiritual energy, embodying the very essence of nature itself.

They did not speak. They did not hesitate.

The treants moved with quiet purpose, their immense hands reaching toward the ruined landscape. Tendrils of elemental energy seeped into the ground, spreading like veins of light. In an instant, shattered earth began to mend, barren land breathed anew, and the deep, gaping scars left by the battle slowly faded.

The presence of the world spirits was undeniable. It commanded reverence.

By the time Osita’s son and his warriors had descended from the mountain, the land was already undergoing its quiet resurrection. Together, Nwadiebube, Osita’s son, and their respective people stepped forward, their movements unified by silent understanding. With practiced grace, they bowed in deep respect to the two world spirits.

Aqua and Brix, standing amidst their work, turned their attention to the gathered mortals. For a brief moment, they exchanged glances, as if silently conversing. Then, after a shared nod, they accepted the bow.

Aqua’s gaze drifted downward. The crystal still lay where it had been thrown, gleaming faintly under the morning light. With a faint smile, she gestured toward it and spoke, her voice light yet carrying an undeniable weight.

“It seems you have already begun without us.”

Nwadiebube let out a short laugh as he stepped forward, his usual confidence returning.

“A treasure has fallen into our backyard, Your Grace. Naturally, we couldn’t resist being a little hasty to claim it.”

Brix, who had remained silent, raised a brow as the crystal lifted effortlessly into his palm. His fingers curled around it, his touch sending a ripple of energy through the strange formation.

“A treasure, indeed.”

But something in his tone was off. His words were measured, careful—almost as if he were considering something far more troubling than what the others perceived.

The atmosphere shifted ever so slightly.

And everyone present realized that whatever had crystallized this mountain… whatever had left this fragment behind…

It was no mere accident.

Aqua’s gaze lingered on Nwadiebube, his expression calm yet resolute. When he finally spoke, his voice carried an unshakable weight.

“I hate to do this, Your Highness, but this so-called treasure of yours must be taken away—for the safety of many. Its source is… questionable.”

The words immediately thickened the tension in the air. The warriors standing behind Nwadiebube stiffened, their instincts on edge.

It was Nwadimma who broke the silence, stepping forward with a steady gaze.

“And where exactly is this source from? Or rather… who is it from?”

Her words were pointed, calculated—seeking to pry open whatever secret the world spirits were withholding.

Brix turned his head slightly, his golden eyes glinting with something unreadable.

“Not for you to know, princess,” he said flatly.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand toward the crystallized mountain. His fingers curled into a firm grasp.

A low, rumbling sound filled the air. The mountain trembled. Cracks splintered across its surface, as if the very land itself was responding to his command.

But before Brix could enact whatever will he had in mind, a hand caught his wrist.

Nwadiebube.

A sudden stillness took hold of the area. For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then, Brix’s eyes glowed a deep, piercing yellow. A heavy, crushing force descended upon the land, pressing against the gathered warriors, bending the air with sheer, suffocating authority.

The weight was staggering. Some buckled under its unseen pressure. Others struggled to breathe.

But Nwadiebube did not let go.

Gritting his teeth against the force pressing down on him, he forced out his words.

“If I recall correctly, taking things away isn’t part of your work, Your Grace—especially when the said thing is inside owned territory.”

Brix tilted his head ever so slightly.

And then, without a single movement on his part, Nwadiebube felt his body lift off the ground. A force, invisible yet undeniable, wrenched him backward, peeling his hand away from Brix’s wrist as if he were nothing more than an insect caught in a storm.

His feet dangled for only a moment before the force set him back down—albeit away from the treant.

It was then that Aqua spoke again, his tone deceptively light, yet carrying an undercurrent of something sharper.

“Owned territory?” He echoed the words, his gaze steady as he turned to face the one standing at the opposite side of the mountain.

“If I remember correctly, this mountain serves as a boundary. It isn’t truly owned by anyone. Meaning… you cannot claim it as yours, can you?”

Then, he shifted his focus—now locking eyes with Osita’s son, Nwadike.

“Am I right, son of Osita?”

Silence fell over the gathered warriors once more. The weight of the situation had shifted entirely.

Now, all eyes were on Nwadike.

Would he challenge Aqua’s words? Would he stake a claim for the Omadi Kingdom? Or would he remain neutral, allowing the world spirits to take what they came for?

The decision, and its consequences, now rested in his hands.

Nwadike, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally lifted his gaze. He met Aqua’s expectant look before turning to Nwadiebube. His expression was unreadable as he spoke.

“It is exactly as you say, Your Highness.”

A slow exhale left some of the gathered warriors, but the tension in the air remained thick.

Nwadiebube, however, did not seem relieved. Instead, he frowned, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. His gaze darted between Nwadike and the mountain before he took a step forward, his voice pressing with urgency.

“They are keeping us blind, Nwadike. And as a fellow human, don’t you want to know what it is they’re hiding? That mountain—” he pointed at the towering crystalline formation, its surface gleaming under the light, an unnatural and almost ominous presence. “—it holds the answers. If we wish to understand what we are up against, we cannot allow them to take it away without question.”

The words carried weight, his conviction evident. And for a moment, it seemed he expected Nwadike to see reason, to share his thirst for knowledge, for control over what the world spirits sought to remove from their grasp.

But Nwadike only raised a brow.

“Fellow human?”

There was an unmistakable note of amusement in his tone, though it did not reach his eyes.

It was almost ironic. In his eagerness to secure the mountain, Nwadiebube had chosen to address him as an equal—something that rarely happened between the two kingdoms. The weight of their ancestors’ grudges, their lands’ strained relations, was conveniently ignored the moment Nwadiebube needed an ally.

But Nwadike was not moved.

His father, Osita, had made it clear before he left—whatever the godlings fought against that night was something humans were not ready to face.

He had not been sent here to uncover secrets. He had been sent here to ensure those secrets remained buried.

The fifth-stage powerhouses accompanying him had one purpose: to destroy the mountain before its presence invited calamity.

But now, with Nwadiebube and his people standing here, that task has suddenly become far more complicated.

Nwadike exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into neutrality.

“Curiosity is a dangerous thing, Your Highness,” he finally said. “Some doors are meant to remain closed.”

The weight of his words hung between them.

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