In another part of the forest, Ava and Roy continued their search for signs of the children or any other survivors. They had found four people so far: a man, two women, and a young girl.
Each had been found half a step from the grave when they arrived. They hadn't eaten or drunk anything for more than five days, too terrified to leave their hiding places in the Abyssal Plane. Who would dare venture out when abominations roamed the land? Meeting one would mean certain doom in the most horrifying way.
The survivors sat in front of tents the soldiers had set up when they heard a loud, guttural roar echo through the thicket. The roar sounded like it came from a truly monstrous creature, reverberating through the trees as if the beast was howling in frustration, anger, or perhaps both.
Ava stood immediately, her body tensing. Roy followed her with his eyes. She stepped forward, her gaze fixed in the direction of the roar. After a moment, she turned to Roy and pointed, her expression sharp and determined.
Roy nodded silently and rose from his seat. Ava, without another word, turned back to the soldiers. "Pack up. We're moving immediately."
One of the soldiers, eyes wide with fear, spoke up. "But it's still night, and that roar—it sounded like it came from something truly horrible."
"Yeah," another soldier added, "we have survivors here. Are we just going to leave them behind?"
Several others murmured in agreement, their faces pale with fear and exhaustion.
Ava's cold gaze swept over them, but she didn't respond. Instead, she turned and walked away from the camp, her soul armor materializing around her as she sprinted toward the source of the roar.
The soldiers barely had time to react before Roy slammed his greatsword into the ground with a thunderous crash, the impact shaking the earth and sending them sprawling onto their backsides.
"The madam was kind enough to help you slay the Gate's Guardian," Roy said, his voice low and menacing. "Not because she had to, but because she wanted to make finding survivors and her children easier." He leaned forward, his eyes burning with intensity. "You bastards can sit here cowering in your boots, but if the madam doesn't find her kids, none of you will leave this place alive. Do you understand?"
The soldiers nodded quickly, gasping for breath as Roy's tier-3 aura weighed down on them, pressing into their bones.
"Yes, sir!" they stammered, the words barely escaping their lips.
Satisfied, Roy retracted his aura and straightened up. "Good. Now hurry and pack up. Some of you will carry the survivors. We're chasing after her." As his soul armor wrapped itself around him, he turned away from the trembling soldiers.
"Yes, sir!" They saluted, their hands shaking, before scrambling to break down the tents and prepare for departure.
Ava moved swiftly through the forest, her steps barely making a sound as she approached the cave. The sight that greeted her was grisly—bodies strewn about, soaked in blood. The number of corpses had dwindled since Sirius last saw them, but the scene remained a grotesque reminder of the horror that had unfolded. Ava, however, didn't linger. She scanned the bodies quickly, relief washing over her when she confirmed none of them belonged to her children.
She pushed on, eventually coming across the remnants of a fierce battle—Andrew's war hammer lying abandoned on the ground, the only evidence of what had transpired. Ava paused only briefly, her heart heavy, before pressing forward.
When she reached the river, she hesitated. The current was strong, and the riverbanks treacherous. As she scanned the water for a way across, something caught her eye—a dark purple crystal log floating in the middle of the river, twinkling with silver sparks.
Ava's eyes narrowed, realization dawning on her. "Dark crystal… dark salt." She whispered to herself, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. "They mentioned this…"
A flicker of hope ignited in her chest. "They're alive," she breathed, determination hardening her features. "I can feel it."
Without wasting another moment, she found a tree large enough to create a makeshift bridge and hurried across, her eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of her children.
....
Back on Sirius's side, they were still running, but their energy was all but depleted. Every step felt like agony, every breath a struggle. The occasional Abyssal Shades that crossed their path only slowed them further, and the relentless chase had worn them down to the bone.
Emilia, who had been carried for most of the journey, was now forced to walk. They no longer had the strength to carry her, let alone maintain their original pace. The darkness pressed in on them, suffocating and unyielding, as they moved through sheer willpower.
They walked all night...
Eventually, they collapsed onto the forest floor, their bodies too battered to continue. For a brief moment, there was no sign of danger, no growls or roars in the distance. They took the opportunity to rest, the adrenaline that had fueled them finally fading, leaving their limbs heavy and their minds numb.
They drifted into an uneasy sleep, too exhausted to stay alert. It was as if their bodies had shut down, demanding recovery, even if only for a few hours. But their reprieve was short-lived.
After what felt like mere moments of rest, a monstrous roar split the night air, a sound filled with agony, fury, and vengeance. The abomination had crossed the river. It was still coming for them—still coming for Sirius.
They jolted awake, their hearts pounding in their chests, their bodies screaming in protest.
Philo was the first to rise, his expression grim. "Let's keep moving," he said, his voice strained. He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion, but he didn't stop. One by one, the others followed his lead, dragging their battered forms forward.
They trudged through the forest, dispatching shades whenever they appeared. Each fight was a grueling battle of attrition, and Sirius, though he tried to contribute, found himself increasingly frustrated. Every stick he touched turned to salt, scattering into the wind before it could solidify into a weapon.
"Why won't it just solidify?" he muttered, his voice tinged with desperation. His vision blurred from exhaustion, and his body felt as if it were on the verge of collapse.
The abomination's roars occasionally echoed through the forest, each one a cruel reminder of the relentless pursuit. It was as though the creature was taunting them, announcing its approach with a twisted glee that gnawed at their already frayed nerves. Sirius himself was almost sure the ugly bastard was doing it on purpose.
They pressed on through the night, not daring to stop. Even when the sun rose again, they continued their march, fighting off shades with a grim efficiency that had become second nature. The soul weavers moved with an almost mechanical precision, their attacks fluid and practiced, despite the weariness in their bones.
But by the seventh day in the Abyssal Plane, their bodies were at their limit.
Sirius, in a moment of reprieve, finally managed to crystallize a stick into a weapon. He stared at the shimmering piece of dark wood, feeling a small measure of relief. The others noticed but were too tired to comment.
On the eighth day, Emilia collapsed, her body no longer able to carry her forward. Aurelia, who had been fighting alongside her, tried to help, but she too faltered, sinking to her knees. Xander followed suit, his legs buckling beneath him as exhaustion took over.
Only Sirius and Philo remained standing.
Philo glanced back at the others, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Stand up," he said, his voice sharp. "We're not out of danger yet."
Sirius stepped forward. "Uncle, they need rest. We've been walking for nearly three days straight, barely sleeping, barely surviving. They're at their limit."
Philo's gaze hardened, his expression unreadable. He took a step forward, away from the group. "I see. I suppose this is where we part ways, then."
Everyone's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" Aurelia asked, her voice trembling.
"What do you mean, Uncle?" Emilia echoed, fear lacing her words.
"You're leaving us?" Xander added, disbelief etched across his face. Only Sirius remained silent, watching Philo carefully, as if anticipating his next move.
"The abomination is closing in," Philo said, his tone flat. "I'm not getting caught because of you. You've been holding me back long enough."
Aurelia's voice wavered as she tried one last plea. "But… aren't you supposed to protect me? You promised."
Philo's eyes flicked to her, devoid of emotion. "I've done what I can. But I'm not a god. If I can't save you, I'll save myself."
Silence fell over the group, the weight of his words sinking in. He was right—he had guided them this far, owed them nothing more.
In a desperate attempt to regain control, Aurelia's voice rang out. "If you leave now, and I survive, I'll tell my father what you've done. Your family will pay."
Philo froze mid-step, his back still to them. A faint smile crept onto Aurelia's lips, thinking she had finally swayed him.
But Sirius's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Everyone, get up. Now. Prepare to fight."
The others, confused but instinctively trusting Sirius, scrambled to their feet. Even Aurelia, despite her fear, unsheathed her sword, flames licking the edges.
Philo turned to face them, his eyes narrowing. "Sharp boy. You sensed it... my killing intent. A prodigy yourself, are you?" His gaze settled on Sirius.
Then, shifting to Aurelia with a weary expression, he sighed, pretending reluctance. "You really shouldn't have said that, princess. You might've made it out of this alive. But now… well, that's impossible."
Aurelia, on high alert, summoned her sword, flames igniting along its blade. "Why is that?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion, as well as slight fear.
Philo smiled, slicking back his hair. "Because now, I have to kill you."