El remained asleep, enveloped in a comforting warmth—the feeling of a loved one, a sensation he hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. Though it had been only a few months if he was in Troy , in this trial where time had seemingly lost all meaning, it felt far,far longer.
As he lingered in this embrace, he found himself sinking deeper into the sensation, his mind relaxing more than he thought possible given his dire circumstances. Yet, an insatiable longing stirred within him—he craved more.
As if in response to his inner acceptance, the warmth intensified, deepening his sense of comfort.
Amidst the enveloping warmth, a faint, melodious sound began to drift through the void—a haunting lullaby. Its slow, gentle notes, reminiscent of a mother crooning to her child, filled him with a yearning to experience it fully.
Just as he had desired to hear the song more clearly, the sound responded, becoming more distinct and wrapping him in an ever-increasing warmth. The dark void, warmer than any void should be, began to recede, revealing a blurred image before him as if a delicate veil had been placed on his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was a hazy figure of a woman sitting nearby, the source of the soothing lullaby. Although her features remained indistinct, he could make out her golden hair framing her face and dark eyes softened by a serene smile that seemed to dispel his troubles. Her lips moved gently as she continued to sing, her gaze fixed upon him. Despite not recognizing her, he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, yet he chose to forget of it, allowing himself to revel in the comforting atmosphere the song was creating.
Minutes passed as she sang, transitioning effortlessly from the first to the second and then to a third melody, and in that moment, he wished for nothing more.
However, a nagging sensation whispered that this serene scene couldn't last forever, that it wasn't a perfect paradise. Instinctively, tension crept into his being, though he still relished the experience,but was no longer lost within it,as he had before.
Soon, an eerie voice began to murmur in the background. Drawn to it, he leaned in subconsciously, making the words clearer. It initially sounded like garbled nonsense, but then, abruptly, it fell silent.
The stillness hung around for so long that it began to distort the woman's lullaby, her voice diminishing until all sound vanished, leaving behind a blurred vision and an oppressive silence. Then, an unsettling cold, eerie voice echoed through the void surrounding him:
"Ah, so this is your humble beginning. A pitiable human offspring, mingled with the essence of a near divine being—an experiment that should have yielded something unique, yet has only produced a lineage of useless bloodline abilities. The title of 'mongrel' suits you more perfectly now ."
El's eyes widened—he hadn't realized he could express such a reaction in this strange place, whatever it was he found himself in: a dream, a memory, a vision—it hardly mattered now.
What did matter was that he recognized the voice. How could he forget it? It was the voice of the damned tree—the entity that threatened Troy's very existence. This was the being responsible for countless deaths—the annihilation of the Li Dynasty and the mastermind behind the cult of the bleeding sap: Xylos, the tree of pacts and sorrows.
As if sensing his realization, the voice laughed coldly,
"Hahaha, ehahaha."
It quickly shifted back to its chilling tone, laced with mockery.
"Why so surprised? Am I a ghost haunting your dreams?, or do you think this is merely a creation of your imagination? It changes nothing; though it took a lot from me but I was still able to reach you despite the protection by something or someone surrounding you. Did you think my mark would lose its function with you entering this... trial?"
El remained silent, resisting the urge to give Xylos the satisfaction of a response.
Nevertheless, the blurred scene began to darken, the familiar void returning. In a flash, he attempted to call back the warmth, but this time it eluded him, as if control had slipped from his grasp.
The void consumed him, starkly different from before, now devoid of warmth, filled only with an oppressive emptiness an overwhelming feeling of nothing.
Then the voice resumed, uttering words that felt like stark truths:
"This void represents your life and all that it will become—an existence devoid of color and filled with darkness: no family, no warmth, no passion, no purpose—nothing. And this is inevitable;as all things destiny touches...and this is one of them".
"Now ponder on this until we meet again—be it in dreams or reality. Come to terms with it; your struggles will change nothing, for I will be the architect of your fate. Have a good nightmare... and more, haha..."
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That night, El was plagued by a disturbing dream. However, they merely brought him irritation rather than true fear—after all, how could a tree confined to his dreams make him unravel? Waking up, he shook off the remnants of his troubled sleep and made his way to the hot spring, determining to push past his irritation and focus on a plan for survival.
He wouldn't waste time; he needed to escape the cave system. Time was of the essence, especially after realizing the toll that prolonged hunger had taken on him and suppressing the feeling of hunger had a larger effect than he anticipated. His muscles felt weaker with each passing moment, and his mental clarity waned, negatively impacting his 'king's eyes'. This created a sense of urgency to him.
Upon awakening, he honed in on his senses, directing them toward the end of the cave,on other side of the pool of boiling hot water.
There, he spotted a low horizontal opening that led further down, just wide enough for him to slide through. Yet, it required crossing the pool of boiling water. Under normal circumstances, he would have deliberated over this precarious plan, seeking a safer alternative. However, in his current state, he had no luxury of time.
His decision was made: he would swim through the scalding waters. It was reckless—suicide, even. If he attempted to swim normally, he would undoubtedly perish halfway through. But he had the means to mitigate his risk. Through his essence control, he could shield his skin and muscles to some extent. The second layer of protection came from his garment artifact [leather tunic] a Grade One artifact procured from a Dread Monster he had slain or by the consequences of his actions died.
It possessed an enchantment that designed to regulate the wearer's body temperature to their most comfortable state. This was the second tool he intended to utilize. Although it had showed signs of wear and tear, it magical–or not had restored it completely, and the restoration process was surprisingly energy efficiency. Despite not fully understanding where the tunic had been kept during its repair, he felt certain that its secrets would be revealed in due time; however, now was not the moment for such revelations.
As he summoned the artifact, it materialized in a cascade of intertwining golden threads until it began to take shape. Once he donned the tunic, it seamlessly enveloped him, with trousers and footwear appearing until he was completely attired.
The artifact activated its binding seal, which allowed it to continuously draw essence from its user, maintaining their temperature at an optimal level. The drawback, however, was significant: in more extreme environments, the tunic would draw even more essence, and he could already feel it beginning to siphon more than it would under average conditions—this would undoubtedly escalate when he would plung into the pool.
With everything in place, he realized there was no time to waste. He strode purposefully towards the pool, ready to dive in.
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