Ren and Eerie have successfully, escaped the demon Lord and also helped Pacs, Aelda and Callie to get away from him.
They entered a forest which stretches endlessly, dense with towering trees whose branches weave together to form a thick canopy overhead. Sunlight struggles to break through, slipping in thin, scattered beams that paint the ground in shifting patches of gold. The air feels cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth, moss, and fallen leaves.
Underfoot, the soil is soft, layered with years of decay—crisp leaves, broken twigs, and creeping roots twisting in every direction. Vines hang loosely from branches, swaying with the faintest breeze. Somewhere deeper within, the distant call of birds echoes, followed by the rustle of unseen creatures moving through the undergrowth.
Shadows linger between the trees, growing darker the farther one looks, as if the forest is quietly swallowing light. Despite the stillness, there is a constant sense of life—hidden, watching, and breathing in every corner.
They were passing through the forest, hoping to soon encounter a village or a kingdom once they cleared it. Callie was trying to get over the terrifying feeling of almost being killed by the Demon Lord. Aelda was still unconscious, and Eerie carried her, while Pacs moved along with Ren and Callie.
Birds flew above them. The sound of a river stream could be heard—strong, but distant. The growls of wild beasts echoed, yet none revealed themselves. The wind blew through the trees, filling the woods with rustling sounds. Leaves drifted through the air, and the grass swayed along the ground. The wind was strong, yet refreshing.
They moved together through the forest, passing between tall trees and thick shrubs, then out across stretches of open land where soft grass spread under their feet. Along the way, they came across creatures unlike anything they had seen before.
One was a crystal golem. It sat silently near a set of ancient ruin gates, its body gleaming as it reflected the sunlight in sharp, shifting colors. The gate itself seemed to be formed from fine ores, rising into two solid pillars as if the ruin had grown out of the metal rather than been built. The golem did not move, and they chose not to disturb it.
Further ahead, they encountered something far more unsettling—a rift dragon. Its body was massive, its form marked by reddish-white paws and a deep, burning orange hide. But what drew the eye most was its wings. They did not seem naturally attached. Instead, they emerged from a strange tear along its body, like a rip in space itself. The air around that rift looked distorted, as if reality was being pulled apart, and from that fracture its wings stretched outward, resting heavily on the ground.
They passed it as well, careful and silent, leaving both creatures undisturbed as they continued on their path.
The Demon Lord had no intention of letting them escape. Kneeling beside Darwin's lifeless body, he placed a hand upon it and whispered a spell—Gravebound Trace. A faint glow spread across the corpse, then thinned into invisible threads that stretched outward, guiding his senses. Through it, he found them—Pacs, Aelda, and Callie—still moving, still within reach.
Without delay, he followed their trail, swift and silent. They remained unaware that the hunt was not over.
On his path, he came upon the crystal golem.
It stood near the ruined gate, its body gleaming like a cut gemstone beneath the light. For a moment, even the Demon Lord paused, drawn by its perfection. Power radiated from it, dormant yet undeniable. A creature like this was too valuable to ignore.
He raised his hand and released a shockwave spell, a force designed to shatter solid forms.
The impact struck—but instead of breaking, the golem absorbed it.
For a brief second, everything fell still. Then the energy surged back.
The spell was reflected—stronger, heavier, doubled in force.
The Demon Lord reacted instantly, casting a defensive barrier. A wall of energy formed before him, just in time to take the hit. The collision shattered the barrier completely, sending fragments of magic scattering into the air.
He stepped back, tension creeping into his expression.
How…?
Before he could make sense of it, the golem began to move.
At first, it was slow—like a machine waking from long sleep. Its limbs shifted with a heavy, grinding motion, each movement deliberate and powerful. Then it rose fully, taking its true form—two massive legs planted firmly into the ground, its towering frame supported by two enormous arms of crystal.
Without hesitation, it swung.
A colossal arm cut through the air, rushing toward the Demon Lord with crushing force.