Amid the battles raging around the Bloomsque Hazard, the fog began to weaken, as if the defeats of both Parthena and Viessa had disrupted some deeper connection to the Blooming Tree's mist—perhaps even tied to its very life force.
Meanwhile, Yumiko and Nathaniel found themselves navigating a network of tunnels deep underground, the only escape route from the crevice they had been forced into, with no time to explore its depths.
"I... need a moment," Yumiko said softly, her voice strained as she stopped in her tracks and sank to the ground, clutching her bruised and battered body. Nathaniel nodded silently, respecting her need to rest.
"This might not be the best time," he began, glancing at her pale, pupil-less eyes, "but what exactly happened to you when you fell into that pit?"
Yumiko's hollow, pupil-less eyes stared into nothingness, her voice barely above a whisper, as if recalling a nightmare she wished to bury deep.
"It was... all so wrong…" she began, her words trembling slightly. "It was like the world disappeared under me. One second, I was falling, the next... I was somewhere else. A void, endless and cold, suffocating in its silence. There was no ground, no walls—just this... space. The only thing there was the moon. Not even our moon. It was massive, crimson, and bleeding light like veins bursting through blackened skies. Its glow felt alive, Nathaniel, like it was watching me. Judging me."
Nathaniel's expression hardened, but he said nothing, letting her continue.
"The air—it didn't feel like air. It felt like... icy water, wrapping around my naked skin, squeezing my lungs, dragging me deeper. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move properly. Every step felt like I was wading through something alive, something cold and hateful. And then, in the middle of that void, I saw it." Her voice dropped lower, her hands trembling slightly as they traced the hilt of her sword.
"There was a sword, floating alone, glowing faintly in that blood-soaked light. At first, I didn't even want to go near it, but my body... it didn't care what I wanted. I wasn't in control anymore. Something—no, someone—was pulling me toward it. My legs moved on their own, my hand reached for it, and when I touched it..." She shivered, clutching her shoulders as if to shield herself from an unseen chill. "It wasn't like holding a weapon. It felt like grabbing the hand of something vile, something ancient. Its grip crawled up my arm, digging into my skin like roots sinking into soil."
Nathaniel frowned, his gaze dropping to the sword at her side.
"When I took it, the entire... whatever it was... shifted. The void rippled and warped, like I'd stepped into the stomach of some living thing, and it was trying to devour me. I couldn't scream, couldn't fight back. My body turned to stone, my thoughts weren't my own, and all I could hear was this... whisper. No, it wasn't just a whisper—it was a chorus. A thousand voices, all speaking different words, but somehow all saying the same thing. 'You're chosen. You're cursed. You're bound.'"
She paused, her fingers gripping her arm tightly, as if trying to ground herself in the present. "I didn't understand it. I still don't. All I know is... I woke up to your voice, standing in front of you, drained and empty, like something had been taken from me. But this sword, Nathaniel... it's not just a sword. It wants something, and I'm terrified of what that might be."
Nathaniel's jaw tightened as he took in her words, his gaze dark and thoughtful. "That world you described... the crimson moon, the voices... it sounds like something straight out of the old tales. But this is real. You're saying that sword... it chose you?"
Yumiko nodded slowly, her empty eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment. "Or maybe it cursed me. I don't know. All I know is, it's not done with me yet."
Nathaniel crouched in front of Yumiko's slumped form, his sharp gaze studying her with an intensity that unsettled her. He examined the subtle changes in her appearance—details that hadn't been there before.
"Your eyes, Yumiko…" he said quietly, his tone carrying a mix of concern and something darker. The words made her stiffen, a nervous energy flickering through her body as she hesitated to respond.
Nathaniel's voice dropped slightly as he continued, "They look... lifeless. Like a corpse's eyes."
Yumiko's breath hitched. The thought sent a chill coursing down her spine, and her hand instinctively moved to touch under her right eye. She tried to keep her thoughts steady, but the idea clawed at the edges of her mind, leaving her deeply uneasy.
"If that mist affected you somehow," Nathaniel went on, his voice steady but laced with curiosity, "and it was supposed to be illusions... then maybe this sword is part of it. But this sword…" He gestured toward the blade she gripped tightly, almost reverently. "It feels... wrong. There's something about it. Something alive, almost. It's not normal."
Yumiko lowered her head, her trembling fingers tightening their hold on the weapon. "I tried dropping it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't. It's like it's fused to me, like I'm chained to it. My hands—my whole body—feels too weak to let go. It's cursed in a way I've never felt before."
She hesitated, her voice cracking as she continued. "Even the sword from Craftsman Island... that one felt powerful, but not dangerous like this. This... this feels like it has its own will, like it's waiting to take over completely. I'm terrified I might hurt someone—hurt you or the others—and I won't be able to stop it. I... I don't know how to control it."
She sat there, trembling and frail, the weight of her ordeal etched across her pale face. Even Nathaniel, calm and composed as ever, couldn't help but notice how utterly drained she'd become since escaping the crimson spell.
"My body…" Yumiko began, her voice trembling like the rest of her. "Even though I can breathe, talk, and walk... it feels like my blood is a frozen river. I'm so cold. Everything's blurry—like I can't even keep my eyes open properly anymore. I feel like if I let myself, I could just drop dead and never wake up again." She stared down at her quivering palm, her lips quivering. "That's how bad this curse is."
Nathaniel's gaze darkened as he crouched in front of her, thinking aloud. "You were stuck in that state for nearly an hour. If that poison—the mist, or whatever it is—had lingered inside you just a few more minutes... I think it might've killed you outright." He paused, piecing his thoughts together. "I've read about the living mist in old databases. It doesn't just disorient its victims; it torments them, playing with their minds until it's satisfied. And then it kills them. You were close, Yumiko. All these symptoms—the cold, the exhaustion—they're proof of how deep it went."
Yumiko's expression hardened, her thoughts drifting to what could've been if she'd remained trapped, if no one had been there to pull her out. Her voice dropped, filled with bitter resignation. "Honestly... dying might have been the easier way to free me. I wouldn't have to worry about hurting you guys... or anyone else. At least then, this sword—this curse—would be gone for good."
Nathaniel's gaze was steady but serious, his tone laced with concern and pragmatism. "Yumiko, even if you had died... I don't think it would've ended there. That sword—it didn't just move you. It controlled you, even when you were barely conscious. If your body had truly stopped... I think the poison, or whatever power that crimson dimension holds, would've kept your corpse moving. A puppet on strings."
Yumiko didn't respond. She didn't even flinch. Instead, she sat there trembling, her silence heavy, her body weak and swaying as if a cold wind had seeped into her very bones. Nathaniel's words echoed in her mind like the sound of chains rattling in a pitch-black void.
After a moment, she broke the quiet, her voice fragile and fractured. "I can still feel it..." Her hand drifted to her chest, pressing against it as if trying to massage out an invisible wound. "Something's still there... hiding... clawing. It's like the poison never left. This... this thing—this monstrous vision, the way my body wasn't my own—I can feel it might happen again. And I don't know if I can stop it next time."
Her words hung in the air, but what followed froze Nathaniel in his place. As she looked up at him, her dull, lifeless blue eyes flashed a vivid crimson. It was brief—an instant—but it was there. The faint shimmer of malevolence, the distortion in her voice as she said the last few words. It was like another presence peeked through, a shadow that shouldn't be.
Nathaniel's heart jumped in his chest, his sharp senses catching the shift, but he forced himself to stay composed. He clenched his fists, pushing the panic down into the pit of his stomach.
Not now... not yet. If she sees me panic, it'll only make things worse.
"You're safe now," he said, his voice even but deliberate, his piercing gaze fixed on her trembling frame. "We're out of that hell, Yumiko. You're stronger than whatever's trying to take you. And if it comes back... I'll do my best to stop it."
But deep inside, Nathaniel couldn't shake the flicker of crimson in her eyes. It wasn't just the sword. Something more was entwined with Yumiko now, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to claw its way out.
To be continued...