NOVEL NEXT Chapter 110: The Fading Presence
The cold wind coiled around them like an unseen specter, whispering through the stillness of the night. A smile flickered across their faces, faint but genuine.
"Long time no see, Onyxelle. Everok," Nyxander said, his voice carrying the warmth of a long-lost bond, yet laced with an unspoken weight. His words broke the silence like a stone disturbing the surface of a tranquil lake.
"Where have you been? You just vanished from the clan without a trace." Onyxelle's voice, once as sharp and unyielding as a warrior's blade, now softened, threaded with the quiet tremor of concern. She stepped forward, closing the gap between them, her piercing gaze searching him for answers beyond mere words.
Everok, his presence as steady as a mountain, crossed his left arm over Nyxander's shoulder, a gesture both firm and familiar. "You didn't even give us a warning before disappearing," he said, a half-smile curving his lips, though his eyes held an unspoken question.
"Haa... Sorry about that. Everything happened so fast, and before I knew it, I was already swept away from the clan," Nyxander replied, his voice carrying a mix of regret and resolve.
His gaze flickered between them before shifting to the darkness beyond. "So, what are you two doing here?"
"It's our duty to patrol the outskirts of the clan," Everok answered, his tone casual but vigilant.
"You still haven't answered why you're here and what exactly you've been doing," Onyxelle pressed, her voice now tinged with restrained frustration, as though she could sense Nyxander skirting around the truth.
Nyxander exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't get worked up. I can't tell you everything now—my time is short, and if they notice my absence, it could compromise everything," he explained. A shadow flickered across his face before he continued. "But one thing I can say is that I'm working undercover, investigating something connected to the clan, the lost newborns." His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. "If you need more answers, ask Uncle Umbrazel."
The mention of home sent a pang through his chest, memories flooding in like an unstoppable tide. "Speaking of Uncle Umbrazel, how is he? And old man Obsidar? My father? My mother?" His words tumbled out, betraying his concern.
Everok chuckled, shaking his head. "Slow down. One question at a time."
"You don't have to worry," Onyxelle reassured him. "If my suspicions are right, your disappearance coincided with the captain declaring the seclusion of the three elders."
Nyxander gave a short nod, confirming her thoughts. "I see. Well, they emerged from seclusion a few days ago. They look... different. Larger, stronger. Whatever they went through in there, it changed them. I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to see you," she added.
Nyxander's expression darkened slightly. "You mustn't tell them I'm here," he said firmly.
"Why not?" Everok asked, his brows knitting together.
"Their reaction could interfere with the mission. Just keep it a secret for now," Nyxander explained, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's actually why I came, I'd prefer you don't proceed any further. Things are delicate, and your presence might make it harder to keep control over the situation."
Onyxelle studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Alright, we understand."
"Thanks," Nyxander said, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I should head back before my absence is noticed."
"Fine. Just promise you'll reach out if you need us," Onyxelle called after him. Everok smirked. "And don't come back missing an arm or a leg," he added.
Nyxander chuckled softly but said nothing. With one last glance over his shoulder, he turned and vanished into the cold embrace of the night wind, leaving nothing behind but their lingering gazes and the hush of the starlit galaxy.
A few minutes later, some distance from the encampment, Karl, Kola, Lunara, and Theodric, along with their subordinates, were scattered in the vast expanse, their voices carried away by the howling wind as they searched frantically for their missing leader. The only light guiding them was the soft, ethereal glow of the galaxy's stars, flickering like distant whispers in the void.
"Boss.... Boss!" They called out, their voices lost to the gusts, desperation creeping into their tones. The relentless wind blurred their vision, its icy fingers clawing at their skin, distorting shadows into haunting illusions.
Then, through the thick veil of dust and darkness, Edgar caught sight of a figure striding with ease against the wind's resistance. His heart pounded. At first, it was but a silhouette, an apparition drifting through the storm. But as the figure moved closer, Nyxander's familiar form was gradually unveiled.
"Boss…" The word tumbled from Edgar's lips, hesitant, as if fearing a trick of the light. Then, certainty struck him like a thunderclap. His eyes widened. "Boss is over here!" he bellowed.
At once, the others pivoted toward the voice, their frantic steps kicking up clouds of dust as they rushed toward Nyxander. Their expressions shifted between concern and disbelief. He stood there, unfazed, clad only in his shorts, the wind weaving through his hair like unseen fingers.
"Boss, where have you been?" Kola's voice carried the weight of unease."you have been away for more than fourth minutes."
"We assumed you were chasing after some grand design that had whisked you away," Kola said, his voice laced with curiosity, as if trying to peel back the veil of a mystery yet to be unraveled.
Nyxander exhaled, his gaze distant yet calm. "I just took a break, I went for a little exercise in that direction," he said, nodding toward the vast emptiness beyond.
"You see?" Theodric scoffed, folding his arms, his attempt at nonchalance betraying the tension in his shoulders. "I told you all not to overreact."
Kola smirked, tilting his head. "Oh? But someone was the first to jump into the search." His voice was laced with teasing amusement.
Laughter erupted among them, the previous tension momentarily dissolving into mirth. But as quickly as it came, Lunara's voice cut through, firm and urgent. "Boss, we have to head back now."
A subtle shift swept over the group, as though the night itself had inhaled sharply. Nyxander's gaze flickered with curiosity. "Is something happening?"
Karl's expression hardened. "The leaders are in a meeting with the Assistant Astro Lord." Kola added, "You're the only one left to join them."
Nyxander let out a small sigh before nodding. "Alright, let's return."
Without another word, they turned back toward the encampment, the night stretching endlessly before them, the wind whispering secrets only the stars could understand.
Nyxander leaped atop the Aether Glide, his movements fluid as a shadow slipping through the night. The cool starlight draped over his bare torso, revealing a body sculpted by battle and hardship, smooth, unmarred, and radiating a quiet, ethereal glow. His subordinates, caught in the moment, found their gazes drawn to him, their expressions a mix of admiration and intrigue.
Only when he finished dressing did he notice their lingering stares. His sharp gaze flicked toward them. "Something wrong?" His voice carried an undercurrent of curiosity.
Karl cleared his throat abruptly, snapping the others out of their daze as they hastily averted their gazes. "Ahem. Nothing."
With a slight shake of his head, Nyxander leaped down from the far side of the Aether Glide, his landing silent as a whisper. "Alright, I'm heading out," he announced, striding purposefully through the encampment. His eyes, like twin lanterns in the dim light, swept across clusters of people gathered around their tents, their murmured conversations weaving through the cool night air. Some huddled in quiet discussions, while others sat in solemn reflection, the weight of the impending battle pressing upon them.
A few seconds later, Nyxander arrived at a well-crafted, polished tent, its reinforced seams and intricate embroidery marking it as belonging to someone of importance. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
Within, the dim glow of a single lamp cast wavering shadows upon the fabric walls. Hung and Centric were already seated on a richly woven mat, their expressions serious, their postures betraying the burden of unspoken thoughts.
Nyxander exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he settled down beside them. "I'm really ashamed to show up late again," he admitted, though his tone held little remorse.
Centric's gaze hardened. "Can you take this seriously for once?" he chided, irritation laced in his voice.
Nyxander, however, only tilted his head slightly, his usual indifference shadowed by a hint of curiosity. "Why so tense?"
Hung's eyelids lowered slightly, the weight of his next words pressing against the very air between them. "Let's not lose focus on what lies ahead," he said gravely. A heavy silence fell over the tent, the flickering lamp casting restless patterns against their unreadable faces.
Then, after a brief pause, Hung finally spoke. "I scouted ahead a few hours ago," he revealed, his voice measured, deliberate. The tent seemed to shrink around them, the gravity of his words settling over them like an impending storm.
The silence that followed was not empty, it was thick with tension, each of them bracing for what was to come.