The Whispering Grove seemed quieter now, the hum of magic reduced to a faint murmur. Ethan stood near the pool, testing the new balance of his system. When he summoned his power, the vines responded to his will, flowing like extensions of his body. There was no longer the wild surge of energy he'd felt before, and for the first time, he felt a semblance of control.
Lyra crossed her arms, watching him with an appraising look. "That's better. You're not lighting up like a beacon anymore."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ethan replied, the faint green glow fading as he lowered his hand. "What's next?"
Lyra nodded toward the path leading out of the grove. "Next, we keep moving. This grove might have helped you, but it won't stop Rhovan's forces if they catch up. We still need to figure out what to do with that Core."
Ethan's gaze drifted to the bag slung over Lyra's shoulder. The Core's presence was muted within the grove, but he could still feel its malevolent energy. "Do you think the grove affected it at all?"
Lyra shook her head. "Doubtful. This place is tied to life and growth. That thing is the opposite—it's pure destruction. We'll have to deal with it another way."
Ethan sighed, adjusting his grip on his staff. "Right. No pressure."
As they left the grove, Ethan noticed a change in the forest around them. The trees seemed less oppressive, their branches parting to let in more sunlight. The air felt lighter, as though the grove's magic had extended beyond its borders.
They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the occasional rustle of distant wildlife. Ethan's mind wandered to the figure he'd seen during his trial—the Overgrowth System, or some manifestation of it. Its words lingered in his thoughts.
"Control requires purpose," he muttered to himself.
Lyra glanced at him. "What was that?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Just… thinking about what the system told me."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Systems don't usually 'talk,' you know. Not like that. Whatever this thing is, it's not normal."
"Yeah, I figured that out when it started making vines grow out of my hands," Ethan said dryly.
Lyra smirked but didn't press further.
By midday, they reached a small clearing where a shallow stream cut through the forest. Lyra knelt by the water to refill their canteens, while Ethan sat on a nearby rock, taking a moment to rest.
As he ran a hand through his hair, he caught his reflection in the stream. His emerald green eyes seemed brighter than before, almost glowing faintly in the sunlight. His medium-length brown hair was tousled and messy, and his lean frame bore the marks of their journey—scratches, bruises, and a layer of dirt that no amount of water could seem to wash away.
"You look like you've been dragged through a battlefield," Lyra remarked, handing him a canteen.
"Feels like it, too," Ethan replied, taking a long drink.
Lyra sat down beside him, her expression serious. "I've been thinking. If Rhovan's people realize how strong your system is, they'll stop at nothing to capture you. It's not just about hiding your glow anymore—we need a real plan."
Ethan nodded. "Agreed. But where do we even start? It's not like we can just walk up to Rhovan and ask him to leave us alone."
Lyra's lips twitched in a grim smile. "No, but we can learn more about what we're up against. There's someone I know—a scholar named Veyna. She studies systems, especially unusual ones like yours. If anyone can help us, it's her."
"Where is she?" Ethan asked.
"Far to the east," Lyra said, gesturing vaguely. "In the city of Eldrin. It's a dangerous journey, but it might be our best chance."
Ethan sighed. "Dangerous journeys seem to be our thing. What's so risky about this one?"
Lyra hesitated. "Eldrin's… complicated. It's a hub for mercenaries, bounty hunters, and all kinds of unsavory types. If word gets out about you, we'll be walking into a den of wolves."
"Sounds charming," Ethan muttered.
They set off again, following the stream as it wound its way eastward. As the hours passed, the forest began to thin, giving way to rolling hills dotted with patches of wildflowers. The open terrain made Ethan uneasy—there was nowhere to hide if they were spotted.
"Keep an eye out," Lyra warned. "We're getting close to the trade routes. If Rhovan's people are tracking us, this is where they'll be."
Ethan tightened his grip on his staff, his senses on high alert. The peaceful scenery felt like a trap, the kind of calm that came before a storm.
As they crested a hill, Lyra froze, holding up a hand to stop Ethan. "Wait."
He followed her gaze and spotted a group of figures in the distance. They were too far away to make out details, but their movements were deliberate, methodical.
"Who are they?" Ethan whispered.
"Scouts," Lyra said grimly. "Probably Rhovan's. They're sweeping the area."
Ethan's heart raced. "What do we do?"
Lyra scanned the area, her mind working quickly. "We can't outrun them in the open. We'll have to go around and hope they don't spot us."
"Hope?" Ethan repeated, his voice tinged with panic.
Lyra shot him a sharp look. "Unless you want to fight them head-on, yes—hope."
They moved carefully, keeping low as they circled around the scouts. Ethan's system hummed faintly, as though reacting to the tension. He clenched his fists, willing it to stay quiet.
As they crept through a patch of tall grass, one of the scouts paused, looking in their direction. Ethan held his breath, his pulse pounding in his ears.
The scout's gaze lingered for a moment before they turned away, continuing their search.
Lyra exhaled softly. "That was too close."
Ethan nodded, his body still tense. "We can't keep doing this. Sooner or later, they're going to find us."
Lyra glanced at him, her expression hard. "Then we'd better make it to Eldrin before that happens."
Ethan nodded, determination hardening his features. Whatever awaited them in Eldrin, it had to be better than this constant game of cat and mouse.
For now, all they could do was keep moving—and hope their luck held.