ERA OF DESTINY-Chapter 154: CHANT OF THE NIGHT

Kiaria stepped onto the dandelion bridge with Diala resting against his back. The golden blossoms beneath his feet shimmered but did not bend, holding his weight as though they were forged from something far stronger than petals. The abyss below remained silent, and the night sky above stretched endlessly without moonlight.

"Dia," Kiaria asked quietly as he moved forward, "are you afraid?"

Diala rested her chin lightly against his shoulder. For a moment, she did not answer.

"Maybe... or maybe not," she said at last. "We have faced too much together. Right now, I cannot even distinguish fear from courage."

Kiaria allowed a faint breath to escape him. Perhaps that is what standing at the edge truly feels like, he thought. Not bravery. Not fear. Just awareness.

The other side of the cliff was only a single step away.

"Kia, stop."

Diala’s voice was softer now, but firmer.

Kiaria paused just before the final span of the bridge. The ruins beyond were swallowed in darkness. No wind traveled from that side. No sound crossed the boundary.

"We will be fine," he said evenly.

"You are sure?" she asked. Her fingers tightened around his shoulders. "Be careful."

Kiaria stepped forward.

The moment his foot touched the soil of the ruins, something shifted.

Far within the ancient territory, deep in a darkness untouched by starlight, a pair of massive red eyes opened. A reddish-black glow seeped from them like slow-burning embers. The land trembled–not violently, but enough to disturb the stillness that had ruled it for ages.

Kiaria continued walking as though nothing had happened.

After several steps, he gently lowered Diala from his back. The tremor faded, leaving behind a silence heavier than before.

Diala waved her hand, and the air distorted briefly. Princess Lainsa stepped out first, followed by Azriel, then Ru, Yi, and the others. One by one, they returned from the Void Ring and stood upon the soil of the ruins.

No one spoke.

The ground beneath their feet felt uneven–not like ordinary earth. Shadows concealed what lay scattered across it. The air carried a faint metallic scent, mixed with dryness and decay. It was not the smell of fresh death, but of something that had consumed too much for too long.

Behind them, the dandelion bridge still glowed faintly across the abyss. Its golden light stopped precisely at the border.

Ahead, only darkness remained.

"It’s too dark in here..." Ru muttered and stepped forward cautiously.

His foot rolled over something round and solid. He lost balance and fell hard.

"Ru! Ru, are you alright?" Yi asked urgently, peering into the darkness.

In the pitch-black night, nothing was visible except the faint monochrome glow radiating from Kiaria’s crown and cloak. Yet even that light felt suppressed, as if the darkness itself devoured it, confining the brightness to his immediate figure alone.

Diala’s hand tightened around Kiaria’s palm.

"This night... no, this darkness," Azriel said quietly, scanning the void ahead. "It’s unnatural. I doubt ordinary flame torches would even function here."

"Do not move," Kiaria instructed calmly.

He raised his hand, and from his spatial ring emerged the massive white dandelion gifted by the Motherland. It hovered above his head, blooming in midair. Its soft radiance spread outward, illuminating nearly a quarter-mile perimeter in gentle, moonlike light.

Shapes slowly revealed themselves.

"Shade," Kiaria continued, "release the silver dandelion. The Motherland would not grant it without reason."

Diala waved her hand. The large silver dandelion rose and positioned itself above the white bloom. As Kiaria had anticipated, the silver filaments caught the white light and reflected it outward like a focusing mirror. The glow amplified, extending farther into the ruins. Countless silver strands shimmered, clarifying the landscape beneath.

Yi looked down where Ru had stumbled.

"Beast core?" Ru said, his voice strained.

He lifted the object into the light. The carved lines were deep, complex. His fingers trembled.

"Th-this is Emperor realm... or higher."

"What?" Azriel reacted sharply.

Azriel, Mu Long, and Yi knelt and examined the ground more closely. A thin black mist lingered just above the soil, faint but persistent, obscuring details beneath it.

Azriel scooped up a handful of dirt and inhaled lightly. "High realm residue. Not fresh. The soil is dry, and the spiritual traces are weak."

A crack echoed beside them.

Aizrel had stepped on an old, rusted bone. She lifted it and examined it briefly. "No scent."

"Dried from long exposure," Mu Long replied. "That’s natural."

The enhanced light now revealed what had been hidden–bones scattered across the terrain, beast cores embedded in dust, mutated cores, corroded treasures and broken weapons. The remains were countless.

"What kind of being kills beasts of this level?" Ru whispered, awe and unease mixing in his tone.

Curiosity and fear ignited simultaneously within the treasure hunters–and even within the Princess. The ruins felt ancient, not chaotic but predatory.

Kiaria remained composed.

Though fear stirred deep within Diala’s heart, she stood steady. A faint monochrome current flowed continuously from Kiaria’s palm into hers, calming her pulse before it could rise too sharply.

The others continued examining their surroundings. One by one, they uncovered more bones, more cores, more remnants of fallen power. With every discovery, tension in their bodies subtly increased. Their breathing shifted. Sweat formed. Their muscles tightened unconsciously.

The thin black mist at their feet responded.

It grew denser.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly at first.

While absorbed in exploration, they drifted slightly apart from one another, small gaps forming between them without notice.

Inside Kiaria’s Sea of Consciousness, both Dragon Emperors stirred from their recuperation.

Golden Dragon glanced at Azure Dragon. "It’s happening."

Azure Dragon’s voice was heavy. "I felt it too."

"Kid," Golden Dragon warned urgently, "regroup them. They are coming."

Kiaria did not hesitate.

"All of you, return. Stop exploring."

His voice cut through the space like a final warning.

They gathered immediately.

"Wh-what is it, Patron?" Azriel asked.

"Look ahead," Kiaria replied calmly. "The darkness is reclaiming the light."

Beyond the illuminated radius, the black mist was rising, thickening. It no longer clung to the ground alone–it was lifting, spreading outward and upward.

"Break the spore balls. Coat your weapons. Be ready," Kiaria ordered.

They obeyed without question, crushing the spore spheres and spreading the powder across their blades.

Inside his Sea of Consciousness, Golden Dragon spoke again. "That will not work. They cannot be killed."

Through the black ring, the Yaksha Queen transmitted urgently, "Master, do not release spiritual energy."

"Too late," Kiaria responded inwardly. "They already have."

He immediately spoke aloud. "Stop releasing spiritual energy. Conceal your breath."

Kiaria shifted from Patron form into Shadow Ghost. The monochrome crown vanished, and with its disappearance, the surrounding darkness pressed closer. Even Diala felt the weight of it deepen. The faint fear within her, though controlled, subtly contributed to the thickening mist.

The black fog in the distance rose several meters high and advanced toward them like a silent tidal wave.

They lowered into ordinary warrior stances–not channeling power, not emitting aura.

The fog reached them.

Passed through them.

Their hearts began to beat faster.

For a few moments, nothing happened.

Then something moved within the current.

Soul after soul drifted through their bodies, carried by the direction of the fog. Each passing presence siphoned away a portion of vitality. Muscles weakened slightly. Breathing grew heavier. Spiritual reserves thinned.

They could not strike it.

They could not block it.

It was not a physical assault.

It was erosion.

Kiaria and Diala remained protected–Goddess Leyna’s blessing and the luminous dandelions forming a subtle barrier around them. The Princess stood untouched; none of the wandering souls penetrated the chrysanthemum armor surrounding her.

But the treasure hunters were not so fortunate.

With each wave of fog, their strength diminished.

The first wave passed.

The treasure hunters could barely remain standing, yet none of them allowed their knees to touch the ground. Breath was heavy. Limbs trembled. Vitality had thinned visibly.

Kiaria wanted to heal them.

His instinct urged him to release energy, to restore balance immediately.

But the warnings echoed in his mind.

Do not release spiritual energy.

He restrained himself.

The soul tide had only been the beginning.

The second wave arrived without warning.

It did not move like fog.

It pierced.

A chorus of high-pitched screeches erupted from the darkness, layered with deep, guttural howls that seemed to tear through the air itself. The sound was not merely heard–it invaded.

It passed through Kiaria.

Through Diala.

Through the Princess.

Azriel’s ears began bleeding instantly. He staggered, then dropped to one knee. Aizrel’s whip slipped from her grasp as she clutched both hands over her ears. Azriel crawled toward her and, despite his trembling, pressed his palms over her hands, shielding her ears with his own body.

The screeching intensified.

Diala’s Sea of Consciousness trembled violently under the assault. The vibrations struck directly at the core of thought, at the foundation of will.

Without hesitation, Kiaria redirected half of her pain into himself through the red thread binding them.

The backlash was immediate.

The howls struck him deeper than the others.

His bloodlines began to clash.

The five elemental bloodlines stirred.

The dragon bloodline reacted.

The relic powers, the Yaksha inheritance, every force within him shifted violently.

But it was the Blood Moon Wolf bloodline that roared.

It surged uncontrollably, colliding with the others in a brutal internal conflict. Suppression and dominance warred within him. Veins bulged along his neck. His vision flickered.

He hesitated.

If he passed half the pain back to Diala, she might collapse entirely.

He endured it alone.

Blood spilled from his mouth.

Within his Sea of Consciousness, the Primordial Spirit, the Blood Demon, the Dragon Emperors, and the relic consciousnesses watched in grim silence. None intervened.

One move from them–one surge of external power–would be equivalent to announcing their presence fully.

And here–

That would be a mercy kill.

The screeches climbed higher.

Diala swayed. Half of her pain continued to transfer into Kiaria, while the remaining portion was absorbed by her beast companion, whose faint roar echoed within her Sea of Consciousness.

Then–

The World Tree Seed pulsed.

At the brink of bloodline collapse, it awakened.

A slow, deep vibration radiated from within Kiaria’s core. It was not loud. It was not sharp. It was low and steady, like the heartbeat of something older than the ruins themselves.

That pulse traveled outward.

It reached the hovering white and silver dandelions.

They responded.

Their filaments vibrated in harmony, releasing an inaudible frequency that pushed back against the screeching waves.

The World Tree’s pulse extended further–across the cliff, beyond the abyss.

To the Motherland.

The Golden Willow Tree beneath the borderland heard.

In response, the entire Dandelion-Feather Land stirred.

Countless blossoms tore free from their stems and rose into the night sky like a sweeping aurora. Golden, white, silver, rose-pink–waves of luminous petals crossed the abyss and entered the ruins, slicing through the black fog.

Where the aurora passed, the fog dissolved.

The dandelions circled Kiaria and his companions, forming a vast rotating barrier. A protective buffer zone took shape–a living shield of light and pollen.

The screeches faltered.

The howls fractured.

Then–

Silence.

The second wave collapsed entirely beneath the aurora.

But the damage had been done.

The treasure hunters remained standing only through stubborn will.

Azriel was kneeling, his hands still covering Aizrel’s ears. She lay half-slumped against him, barely conscious.

Mu Long leaned heavily on his axe, using it to prevent himself from falling.

Ru and Yi had slid down into seated positions, backs pressed against one another for support, breathing shallow and uneven.

Princess Lainsa swayed on her feet, her chrysanthemum armor dimming slightly as exhaustion overtook her. She nearly fainted but forced herself to remain upright.

Diala had already collapsed.

Kiaria caught her before she struck the ground, though his own knees trembled beneath the strain.

The dandelion barrier continued circling them, glowing steadily in the night.