Azael stood frozen, stunned by what he had just unleashed. With a single motion, he had pierced the heads of the six riders. An unimaginable feat. Yet he had no understanding of this power, nor an explanation for how it had come to him.
All he knew was that, in that fleeting moment, his core had finally formed. Somehow, he had glimpsed and manifested his aura with an unprecedented mastery-something he had never achieved before.
From a distance, Noir watched in awe, her heart pounding. Doubt gave way to belief as she whispered to herself, questioning if this was truly the heir without light-the real Azael Argus.
She concluded that the unbearable pressure of mortal danger had finally broken through the barriers. The discarded heir, who had failed to form his core even at sixteen, had awakened at last.
Noir reflected on how joyous her master, Princess Kelly Argus, would be to hear of her brother's awakening. Kelly cared for her brother more than anyone else and had always wished for his safety and success.
After a long moment, Noir finally stood to her feet as Azael finished freeing the remaining captives from the cages-fellow humans from the Kaligon territory. With the prisoners now liberated, Azael approached Noir carrying the reins of two horses. One for himself and one for her.
Azael got himself on the horse with so much struggle while holding back his pain as best as he could. He watched Noir brushing dust from her dress and tried his best to ignore the muttered curse he clearly heard.
Azael tried to lighten the mood. With a weak grin, " Hehe…..Isn't it quite fun? Doing the unthinkable?"
Noir shot him a sharp glare. " Shut your screwed-up mouth while I am still being nice to you. Or I'm gonna tear your stomach open and eat your insides."
Noir was happy that she survived the fight with the help of a teenager, but her agony spawned her inner demons.
Without wasting a moment, Noir swung herself onto the horse, urgency driven by their wounds and the rising threat all around. She caught the shifting winds, read the coming change in weather, and pushed herself and Azael to seek the nearest sign of civilization.
Within minutes of their flight, Azael picked up the unnerving sense of pursuit. Leaning forward, he scanned the road behind them with anxious glances. After a few tense heartbeats, he called out, only half sure of himself, "I think we're being ambushed…"
Silence followed.
Noir didn't even look back. She poured every ounce of strength into urging her horse to run faster, commanding over her shoulder for Azael to do the same.
That's when Azael realized. Noir's silence was confirmation. She already knew about the ambush-and her stoic face, drawn tight and as impassive as an ape's, betrayed just how far past fear she'd pushed herself.
Noir muttered curses under her breath, each word heavy with dread. Azael's mind raced-if she feared this much, the danger had to be serious. But who were tailing them? He could feel their looming presence but could not yet see them.
"Noir! We can't keep this up much longer. Our horses are exhausted. Let's just face them!" Azael shouted, eyes flicking anxiously at the weary animals.
Noir's gaze snapped to him, eyes wide with fierce urgency.
"Run as fast as you can, you bastard! All we can do now is escape."
The worst-case scenario unfolded exactly as feared. After running several kilometers, their horses faltered, exhausted and unresponsive. Ignoring the riders . They simply couldn't keep up.
Azael and Noir dismounted, both breathing heavily. Noir grasped Azael's arm, pleading, "Stop looking for a fight. Just run."
With trembling legs, they abandoned their mounts and began sprinting on foot, hands clutching their chests to steady their aching hearts.
Breaking the heavy silence, Azael asked, "How much farther do we need to go?"
Gasping for air, Noir answered, "How... how are we still in the jungle after running so far?"
Azael couldn't shake his curiosity about their pursuers and called out between breaths, "Do you happen to know who's chasing us?"
He struggled to accept any real reason for the relentless pursuit, suspecting it was simply because he was Victor Argus's son.
Noir didn't want to waste breath speaking, but Azael's insistence forced her to reply. She moved her lips, voice thin and strained.
"The person you thought was your protector-the swordsman who traveled with you-was actually your enemy. He wanted to sell you into the black market as a teen slave. It was he who nearly killed you, and I arrived just in time to end him. Still, his accomplices overpowered me and locked me up, same as you. And..."
Azael cut her off abruptly, glancing over his shoulder while running: "I've already remembered all that. Don't you know anything actually useful?"
He punctuated his frustrated words with a thumbs-down and dull, disappointed eyes.
Azael's disappointed gesture lingered in the tense air. Noir clenched her eyes shut in anger and pressed on. "Your father was the one who ordered the swordsman to get rid of you. The swordsman, greedy as he was, tried to sell you on the black market instead. But he's dead now. I made sure of it."
For a moment, Azael stood frozen, confusion and disbelief swirling inside him. The realization that his own father wanted him gone landed with sudden force. A deeper wound than any he'd suffered on this journey. Yet, strangely, grief didn't dominate his heart.
Azael's new strength pulsed within him, and with his core finally awakened, sorrow faded to resilience. Despite all he'd learned, his love for his father remained steadfast-a devotion so profound he would give his life for him, even now.
Noir stared at Azael, utterly baffled. What kind of father-son bond allowed him to face death from his own father with such calm. Even relief?
Shaking off her surprise, Noir focused on survival, saving the details of the greatest threat at that crucial moment. Finally, she spoke, her voice tense.
"The ones chasing us. Those figures we felt for so long…"
Azael shot her an uneasy look, waiting as he focused his fledgling aura on his legs, hoping to boost their escape speed, although he never tried it.
Noir continued, her tone grave,
"It's the 'Silver Mist.' A phenomenon so rare few humans ever encounter it. At first, I thought we were being pursued by people. But now I'm certain. It's not just speed we feel, it's presence. The Silver Mist moves like humans, gaining on us with every step."
Fear etched itself briefly across Noir's face as she saw Azael's complexion pale, his earlier brightness drained by dread.
She quickly reassured him, "Do not panic. Every problem has a solution. With the Silver Mist, our only hope is to reach open ground bathed in sunlight. Somewhere beyond this shadow-choked jungle. The trees trap the mist here. Sunlight will halt its advance. But escaping won't be easy, and there's one rule-never use your aura, at any cost."
'The Silver Mist' is a legendary natural phenomenon feared by all who wield aura. It hunts its victims relentlessly, drawn instantly to anyone who channels their power. Those enveloped by the mist are not simply killed-they vanish, teleported to random locations: mountains, oceans, the sky, or even into the void of space itself.
No matter a person's origin or strength, those claimed by the mist are never seen again. The Silver Mist is regarded as a natural disaster, its existence chronicled only in old books and witnessed by a rare few, making it both a mystery and a terror whispered through generations.
Azael's fate was sealed the moment he fed his aura into his legs, mere seconds before Noir's warning about the Silver Mist left her lips. He had acted on instinct, desperate to outrun whatever chased them, but that desperation became his undoing.
The Silver Mist surged forward with eerie intelligence, locking onto Azael's presence. In a heartbeat, it enveloped him, curling around his body like a lover's embrace. Noir saw it happen, horror widening her eyes. She spat a curse, but it was too late to help.
"Get away from here!" Azael shouted, his form already blurring within the shifting silver haze. Noir's instincts warred with reason. She should have run, should have saved herself. But loyalty held her in place. She froze, heart pounding, as the mist rolled towards her as well.
Then, all at once, it was upon them both. The mist swallowed them whole, cold and silent. At that moment, time seemed to hang suspended. The outside world vanished as the Silver Mist claimed them.
No one who had ever entered the Silver Mist returned. Now, Azael and Noir could only surrender to its mysterious power, and whatever unknown place awaited them beyond.