Zar trudged across the muddy terrain, his steps unsteady as his torn and battered footwear barely held together. Each step pressed his feet deeper into the damp earth, yet his gaze remained fixed on the mesmerizing horizon. The sky above shimmered with streaks of vibrant colors—swirls of violet, azure, and gold danced like liquid fire, forming patterns that shifted and pulsed as if alive. Countless stars glittered against the vast expanse, accompanied by faint, glowing trails that arced through the heavens like falling embers. The air itself seemed to hum softly, carrying a faint, otherworldly resonance that felt almost soothing despite the alien nature of the realm. For a moment, Zar's pain and exhaustion dulled, his eyes reflecting the celestial display as though it had momentarily freed him from the weight of his injuries. Beside him, Gorath walked with ease, his small, sturdy frame unaffected by the uneven ground. Though his pace was naturally quicker, he deliberately slowed himself, occasionally glancing up to match Zar's stride—making sure to stay close. "Nyssa…" Zar muttered, his voice strained and weary. "What must she be doing right now?" His steps slowed as the thought lingered, the surreal beauty of the realm doing little to ease the turmoil swirling within him. "This place… it's so disconnected from reality. I can't even tell how much time has passed back in the real world. Has it been days? Hours? Or maybe… not even five minutes." He exhaled sharply, his breaths uneven from pain and exhaustion. "Forget time… I don't even know if I'll make it out of this place alive." His fingers instinctively tightened around the strap of his bag, and his voice softened to a whisper. "I should've hugged Nyssa before leaving. Why am I craving to see her so much right now? I don't even know…" After walking for what felt like hours, Zar and Gorath came to a sudden stop at the edge of a jagged cliff. Below them stretched a mesmerizing garden of vibrant, glowing flora. The flowers pulsed softly with hues of deep purple and shimmering gold, their light dancing across the landscape like tiny stars scattered on the ground. "Wow…" Zar breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "How much more is this place gonna surprise me?" His eyes wandered across the surreal garden until they locked onto a massive creature roaming amidst the flowers. "What is that?" Down in the garden, an enormous ox-like beast grazed lazily. Its hulking frame glowed with a faint blue aura, and instead of fur, it bore sleek, smooth skin—except for its head and neck, where tufts of thick, bristly hair formed a mane-like crown. At first, the creature seemed indifferent to Zar and Gorath's presence, its glowing body moving slowly through the flowers. But the moment it looked up and spotted them on the cliff, its demeanor shifted. Without hesitation, the ox let out a guttural snort and charged straight toward the cliffside. The beast rammed the base of the cliff with its glowing horns, shaking the ground violently beneath them. "Gorath!" Zar shouted, his voice desperate as the vibrations nearly knocked him off. "Are you just gonna stand there and watch me fall?! Do something, please!" But Gorath was far from alarmed. Instead, he seemed to be enjoying himself, bouncing up and down with each tremor as if the quaking cliffside were some kind of trampoline. Just as Zar's foot slipped dangerously close to the edge, a sudden, deep horn blast echoed from the flower garden below. The sound was sharp and commanding, cutting through the chaos. Zar's eyes darted toward the source—a hunched old man standing among the glowing flowers, holding a long, curved horn. At the sound, the ox froze mid-charge. It snorted loudly, stomping the ground one last time before turning away and galloping toward its master, leaving Zar trembling on the edge of the cliff. Zar let out a shaky breath of relief as the ox finally retreated. But his reprieve was short-lived. Clinging desperately to the edge of the cliff, he reached out and grabbed Gorath's leg, trying to hoist himself up. Instead of helping, Gorath froze, his rocky body trembling. With a panicked squeak, he began kicking at Zar's hand, desperate to break free. A booming voice echoed from below. "Unhand thine hold, and let thyself descend!" Zar's eyes widened as he turned his head toward the source of the voice. It was the old man—the same one who had called the ox back—standing in the flower garden with his horn still in hand. "What?!" Zar shouted back, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ledge. The old man raised his horn and bellowed again, his voice carrying an almost commanding weight. "Let go, lad! Trust in the blooms, for they shall break thy fall!" Zar's heart pounded as he looked down at the vibrant field of flowers glowing beneath him. His instincts screamed at him to hold on, but something about the man's voice—its authority, its certainty—made him hesitate. "This better not kill me," Zar muttered under his breath before closing his eyes and releasing his grip. He plummeted toward the flowers, bracing for impact—but instead of crashing, he felt himself bounce. The blossoms cushioned his fall, springing beneath him like a massive bed of silk and air. Zar let out a breathless gasp as he came to a gentle stop, sprawled among the glowing petals. He quickly scrambled to his feet, patting himself to confirm he was, in fact, still alive and unharmed. The old man knelt beside Zar, his sharp eyes scanning the cuts and bruises scattered across his body. After a moment, he shook his head in disbelief. "By the heavens, lad, how dost thou still draw breath?" Zar let out a tired sigh, wincing as he shifted his weight. "Don't ask me... Even I'm not sure if I'm alive or just dreaming all of this." The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "What baffles me more is that thou hast eluded Orestes's grasp. None before thee hath done so and lived to tell the tale. Surely, thou didst not vanquish him?" Zar scoffed weakly. "No I didn't defeat him, the baby rock golem up on the cliff did. Somehow knocked him away—I've no idea where." Zar cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Oi! Get down here already!" Gorath, hearing the call, leapt from the cliff without hesitation. He hit the ground with a loud crack, shattering into pieces upon impact.But before either of them could react further, Gorath's scattered parts began rattling, snapping back into place one by one until the golem stood whole again, as if nothing had happened. The old man's eyes widened in astonishment. "This creature—'tis madness embodied! Is it thy familiar? Didst thou bring it forth from thine own realm?" Zar shook his head, brushing the dirt off his pants. "No, he's from this place. Honestly, I thought you'd know something about him." The old man stroked his beard again, his brows furrowed. "Nay, lad. In all my years, ne'er have mine eyes beheld a being such as this." Zar glanced down at Gorath and smirked. "You really are a rare species, huh?" The old man's eyes suddenly caught the badge pinned to Zar's chest. His expression shifted from curiosity to recognition. "Wait… You're from Velandor's Institute of Arcadia?!" Zar frowned, giving the old man a skeptical look. Something felt off. "Yeah? How do you know about that place?" The old man's demeanor changed almost instantly. His voice dropped its formal tone, replaced by a casual, almost cheerful excitement. "Oh, the Institute! I love that place—its halls, its archives, its people. Fantastic memories!" He waved Zar over. "Why are you still standing? Come on, sit down here." Still wary, Zar followed him as the old man led him to the edge of the garden, where a weathered stone bench awaited them. The old man plopped down and patted the seat beside him. After a moment's hesitation, Zar sat too, his injuries protesting the motion. "So, you're not from this realm, are you?" Zar asked, eyeing him carefully. The old man leaned back, crossing his arms. "Nope. I'm from your world." Zar's brow furrowed. "Then how did you end up here?" The old man grinned knowingly. "Ah-ah! Not so fast. I'm not revealing that—or where exactly I came from. That's a story for another time." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For now, let's talk about you. You've got my attention, and I'm more interested in your story." Zar shrugged, a tired smile crossing his face. "Know what about me? I'm just an ordinary magic professor trying to study Umbraxis in depth. I want to understand why it's so hated. I didn't expect there'd be an entire realm dedicated to protecting it." The old man burst into loud, boisterous laughter, his voice echoing through the garden. Zar raised an eyebrow, bewildered. "What's so funny?" But the old man just kept laughing, ignoring Zar's question. After a long pause, when the laughter finally subsided, the old man wiped his eyes and leaned forward, grinning. "You really think this whole realm was created to protect that trash, Umbraxis?" He chuckled again at Zar's confused expression. "This realm is connected to multiple universes, far beyond the planet Xandria. Xandria doesn't even realize it. Only a select few know about these connections—the ones truly obsessed with Umbraxis. That old hag who created the magic had no clue how to control it, so he locked it away in this realm and gave access only to those obsessed enough to seek it out." Zar blinked, his mind racing. "You're calling him an old hag… but you're an old hag yourself." The old man's grin widened, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, I'm not that old, don't worry. I'm just 50 years old." With a swift motion, the old man snatched at his own beard, ripping it off with surprising ease. Zar flinched, staring wide-eyed as the man straightened up, looking more youthful than before. "What… what are you?!" Zar gasped, unable to hide his shock. The old man gave a soft, enigmatic giggle. "You'll never know." Zar looked at the old man, a curious expression crossing his face. "What's your name, by the way? I completely forgot to ask." The old man paused for a moment, his eyes glinting with a mysterious light. "It's Aelrithar." Aelrithar chuckled softly, noticing Zar's sudden shift in focus. "And in case you're wondering, if I've been here for such a short duration according to my age... I'm not. Time works differently in this realm. Fifty years here would be like five hundred in Xandria." Zar's eyes widened slightly, his mind grappling with the concept. "So I was right about the time thing..." After a brief pause, he finally asked, "Is umbraxis really trash?" Aelrithar's gaze grew distant for a moment, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I don't know… maybe it's not, but in my point of view, it is. To be honest, I don't like the mindset of the one who created it. I mean, seriously, what was he thinking?" Zar's brow furrowed. "I don't get it. What do you mean?" Aelrithar's gaze shifted back to Zar, his tone turning more contemplative. "The creator of Umbraxis was both a sorcerer and a scientist. He spent his entire life trying to create an endless, self-sustaining source of magic. And in the end, he did discover some particles that could recycle themselves, endlessly usable as a power source. You must know this, especially if you've managed to come this far." Zar nodded, his thoughts racing. "Oh yeah, I've read about all that in my..." He paused abruptly, his eyes widening. "Wait—where's my bag!?" Panicked, Zar jumped to his feet, but before he could move, he saw Gorath, already busy dragging the bag back toward him. Zar sighed in relief, a small smile forming on his lips. "Oh, he's finally useful. Thanks, little one." Aelrithar waited patiently as Zar settled down again with his bag, ready to continue the conversation. "Now then," Aelrithar began, leaning forward slightly. "Where was I?" "Umbraxis," Zar reminded him, his voice carrying both curiosity and urgency. "Ah, yes. Umbraxis," Aelrithar said, his tone growing more serious. "Listen carefully. Imagine a magical particle—one that doesn't just damage what it touches but completely erases it from existence, atom by atom, until there's nothing left. Even a child could tell you something like that wasn't created for a noble purpose." Zar's brows furrowed, absorbing every word. "He didn't give birth to a magic, he gave birth to a curse. A curse that has claimed the lives of millions of people—and hundreds of sorcerers—who dared to inherit it. You see, to this day, no one has ever truly mastered Umbraxis. Those who inherited it either died when their brains exploded from the sheer overload of information flooding their minds, or if they somehow managed to endure that, they still didn't escape death. Umbraxis drains their life force, cutting them down at the age of 45—and when they die, everyone around them dies as well." Without missing a beat, Zar leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "That's what confuses me the most. Why is Umbraxis so unbearable to wield? Even skilled Mentifers couldn't handle it? I mean, Mentifery is considered the hardest sorcery to master. I don't see how Umbraxis should be worse than that!" Aelrithar smirked at Zar, clearly amused by his naivety. "Boy," he said, shaking his head, "you only know about 32 percent of what Umbraxis truly is. No one fully understood the overwhelming elements he blended together to form this deadly curse." Aelrithar paused for a moment, letting his words linger before asking, "So, tell me—what exactly do you plan to do if you find the Umbrites?" Zar hesitated, then shrugged. "...I don't really know. Maybe run a few experiments on it and—" "Inherit it?" Aelrithar interrupted, his eyes narrowing. Zar quickly shook his head. "No, obviously not! I'm not looking to die in five years." Aelrithar leaned back with a smirk. "And what kind of experiments are we talking about here?" Zar shifted uneasily. "I've studied the Umbrites in detail and I have a theory. I've brought all the necessary elements with me in my bag, but honestly, I'd rather not share it all with you. I'm afraid you'll just mock me and crush my confidence." Aelrithar let out a loud, hearty laugh. "hahah it's alright it's alright." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and added, "You know, with this level of obsession, there might actually be a slight chance that you'll master Umbraxis." Zar's eyes lit up with hope. "For real?" "No," Aelrithar replied bluntly, his teasing tone making Zar visibly deflate. Quickly shifting gears, Aelrithar asked, "By the way... do you even know where this laboratory exactly is?" Zar scratched the back of his head. "Not exactly. I was just hoping that once I found this realm, the lab wouldn't be too hard to locate." Aelrithar let out an exasperated sigh. "That's like trying to find a pebble tossed into the middle of the ocean. Gods, you really are an idiot. You'd have been wandering aimlessly in this realm forever if you hadn't run into me." Zar's face flushed with embarrassment, the shame written all over his expression. Seeing this, Aelrithar softened a little and said, "Normally, I wouldn't bother revealing anything to anyone, but I kind of like you. Don't worry—I'll help you reach that lab. But once we're there, we'll go our separate ways. I don't know you, and you don't know me. Whatever you choose to do with the Umbrites after that is entirely your responsibility." Zar's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thank you so much, Aelrithar! So... should we leave for it now?" Aelrithar smirked and crossed his arms. "Not so fast. Do you really think it's going to be that easy? You're staying here with me for the day—and you're going to help me with the chores first." Zar stayed with Aelrithar for a day, allowing the old man to heal some of his injuries so he could walk properly again. The next morning, they set out toward the laboratory, riding on Aelrithar's glowing blue ox. Hours of silent travel passed before they finally arrived at a towering, mythical structure. Its intricate carvings and mysterious symbols seemed to hum with dormant energy. In front of the structure lay a circular platform, and at its center was a sealed, round gate embedded into the floor. Without saying a word, Aelrithar dismounted the ox and stepped onto the platform. Zar watched in awe as Aelrithar began performing a ritual, his hands tracing patterns in the air while ancient chants echoed faintly. As the ritual unfolded, glowing lines of light spread across the structure like veins, pulsing with raw magic. Zar stood back, mesmerized by the breathtaking sight. After a minute, the gate slowly began to open, releasing a blinding light from below as if unveiling the depths of an ancient secret. "There you go," Aelrithar said in a dim, serious tone, his usual playful demeanor nowhere to be found. Zar dismounted the ox, Gorath leaping down beside him, and took slow, deliberate steps toward the structure. "What's wrong?" Aelrithar asked, noticing the distant look in Zar's eyes. "You look like you're missing someone." Zar paused, his own thoughts weighing heavily. "Yeah… my wife… and my students. I didn't even attend the final round of the arcane arena. I don't know what they must be thinking about me right now." Aelrithar locked eyes with him, his tone turning grave. "You know what you're about to do, right? One small mistake, and your life will be ruined forever." Zar was taken aback by his unfamiliar seriousness. "What's with the sudden change? That face doesn't suit you." But Aelrithar didn't answer. He was already focused on brushing the mane of his ox, his silence adding to Zar's growing unease. Breaking the tension, Zar asked, "I had a question, though. Are there going to be more gatekeepers like Orestes inside?" "No," Aelrithar replied flatly. "Orestes was the only one guarding Umbraxis. There won't be anyone else in your way." As Aelrithar prepared to leave, Zar blurted out, "Wait—why aren't you coming with me?" The old man froze for a moment before answering, "That curse has already ruined my life enough. I don't want to see it again." Without another word, he mounted the ox and began to leave. "Thank you for everything!" Zar shouted as Aelrithar rode off. But Aelrithar didn't look back. He kept moving forward, his expression hidden, leaving Zar more confused than ever. Turning toward the glowing gateway, Zar steadied himself. "Let's do this, Gorath," he said. Gorath let out a low rumble, standing ready by his side. Zar held Gorath tightly in his arms, ensuring the little golem wouldn't get lost during the fall. With unwavering determination, he took a deep breath and leaped into the glowing gateway. The descent stretched and warped around him as if he were being pulled through the fabric of reality itself. Though the sensation was disorienting, Zar kept his expression stoic, bracing for whatever lay ahead. After what felt like an eternity but was only a minute, they finally hit the ground. To Zar's relief, neither he nor Gorath sustained any damage. Even Gorath managed to remain intact without shattering. Rising to his feet, Zar dusted off his tattered clothes and turned his gaze forward. What stood before him was no ordinary laboratory—it resembled a mythical castle, ancient yet radiating a dark, otherworldly energy. Its towering spires and intricate carvings gave off an ominous aura, as though the walls themselves whispered forgotten secrets. "So this is it..." Zar muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with awe and apprehension. "Thálamos tou Nekroú Cháous." ------------ Meanwhile, in the real world, Arion finally arrived at the site in Valtheris where the gateway to the mysterious realm had appeared. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for clues. "Good thing you decided to take a nap at the institute that day, Zar," Arion muttered to himself. "I had plenty of time to copy all the highlighted notes from your book." A sly smirk crept across his face. "Just wait... Once I gather enough evidence of your twisted plans, I'll have the authorities arrest you before you can even step back into this world."