Heir of the Fog

32 - The Hollow District



CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The Hollow District

The realization that I could now direct some kind of external magic—seeing distinct types of mana swirling around me, instead of just fueling my physical abilities—did nothing to ease my gnawing hunger. My stomach cramped with a familiar ache that refused to be ignored.

I needed food.

Perhaps sensing this desperation, the Life Tree dropped another silvery apple directly into my hands. I froze for a moment, staring at it in disbelief. It had taken years for the tree to produce every single one, at least according to what I knew. How had it created another so soon?

My gaze flicked back to the trunk. I realized the Life Tree looked taller than when I first encountered it, its dominion spreading across the entire area. Tangled roots devoured the remains of old structures, branches arched overhead in a leafy canopy, and faint mana shimmered along the bark. In barely nine months—my time spent in forced stasis—it had grown dramatically. Another few decades, and it might reclaim all of District 2 at this rate.

I wondered if such rapid growth impacted the time needed to generate its fruits, but Kara answered me before the question lingered too long.

[Kara]

[Based on Araksiun knowledge of Life Trees, the timing does not change as one grows in power. Only the potency of the fruits themselves changes.]

"So how did it produce another one in only nine months?" I asked, unsettled.

[Kara]

[It has been almost a decade since District 2 fell. It likely had more than one fruit stored.]

That explanation made enough sense, but I felt an odd pang of guilt. This fruit was incredibly precious—could I afford to waste it just because my stomach rumbled? I clenched the apple in my hand, unwilling to take even a single bite for now. My old hideout was not far, I had kept a cache of supplies there, though the passing months might have reduced its quality. Still, Araksiun's lingering magic usually preserved food well enough, unless hungry creatures discovered it first.

I glanced back at the Life Tree, wanting to say something in gratitude. Yet if it could speak, it had shown no inclination to do so in words. Perhaps it communicated through deeds instead. It had freely given me its most valuable gift, enclosed me in a protective root cocoon, then held me until I learned to manifest Life Magic outward. Now, witnessing my hunger, it had dropped another fruit into my waiting hands. All of that was communication in its own cryptic way.

Pressing my palm against the trunk, I let a spark of this new awareness flow, sending a silent message of thanks. A faint green flicker glowed at the point of contact, as though the Life Tree acknowledged my intent. Then I turned and left.

The beasts that roamed near the tree seemed stronger than I remembered, their cores thrumming with newly gained power. Some snarled and prowled among the colossal roots, while others slunk away into the burgeoning forest. Were they guardians of the Life Tree? Hard to say, because they also fought one another. In the wild, the cycle of life and death never hesitated. I knew I would receive no special favors if they found me alone.

I did not want to hunt so close to the Life Tree, so I slipped away using Hazeveil's stealth. The deepening woods felt eerily transformed, newly grown trees towering over what had once been stone ruins. Following the trickle of a newly formed river, I noticed small fish darting in its crystalline waters—beast fish, by the look of them. Indeed, I saw one hungry beast crouch on the bank, attempting to grab a tiny fish, only to be electrocuted in an instant. Its corpse fell into the river, where a swarm of other fish swam forth to gorge on the remains.

This was the first time I had seen fish, even though a few districts produced them in small quantities. Yet, I doubted that the ones raised inside the ward were this dangerous.

This forest had become perilous, an ecosystem teeming with predators and prey that devoured each other at the slightest misstep. I had to pick my path carefully. Nevertheless, even stealth could not save me from every encounter. Now and then, an ebony-core beast caught wind of me, and battle ensued. Thankfully, they arrived in small groups, and I dispatched them with relative ease. After all, I was no stranger to combat in the fog. Once each confrontation ended, I devoured their flesh, at last satisfying the hollow ache in my stomach.

It felt surreal to consume so much meat at one sitting—perhaps thirty kilograms or more. Back in the district, I recalled how just a fraction of that would have cost Jharim years of labor. I swallowed hard, thinking about how we had all grown accustomed to the ward's scarcity.

The wards, I mused, are not so different from the root cage I just escaped. They fenced us in, restricting resources, forcing us to live on scraps. Yet ironically, the wild beyond these wards was so rich—dangerous but overflowing with potential, if one had the power to harvest it.

I found myself wondering if I had already stumbled upon the artifact I was searching for without realizing it—something that could end hunger within the districts once and for all. Ever since I set foot on this path, I had grown stronger, collected new artifacts, and learned the harsh rules of life and death in the fog. Perhaps the Life Tree wasn't that miraculous solution I truly did find.

But no. Even if I found ways to slaughter countless beasts, I would never manage to haul all that meat back to feed an entire district. Hunting in these hostile lands inevitably attracted more predators, leading to an endless cycle of battles—a reality that made large-scale transport unthinkable. The same issue would arise if I tried dragging even a few carcasses over long distances.

Most of the few onyx core beasts I had managed to defeat had drawn too much attention during the fight. Their sheer difficulty to kill meant prolonged battles, which attracted other threats, leaving me with no choice but to harvest whatever I could on the spot before moving on. In contrast, ebony core beasts were much weaker, especially those that hunted in large groups—making large-scale hunting in the fog a more feasible option. However, even then, I would only be able to transport a few bodies at a time unless I was already close to the ward. By the time I returned for the rest, other beasts would have been drawn to the corpses.

Any real attempt at large-scale harvesting demanded the help of the Chainrunners. But they had been devastated by the veteran run, leaving them low on powerful artifacts and seasoned fighters. Another deadly beast could wipe them out if it sensed their corruption and chose to strike.

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Yet, it was not entirely hopeless, even though I had failed in District 2. The lower districts were well known for their massive food production. Next in line was District 4. As with District 2, I knew nothing about the nature of the artifact there, but I hoped it would be the solution I so desperately craved.

Once I arrived at my old hideout to gather my belongings, I noticed that the nearby building where I had stored some food had been raided. It was hardly a concern, though, because I had collected a fresh stock of meat from the beasts that attacked me near the Life Tree. While I hadn't gone there to hunt specifically, I left with enough resources to sustain me awhile.

I hoped to stick to the primary road that connected the districts, praying there would be no more exhausting detours like the one from District 1 to District 2. A certain optimism crept into my steps the farther I traveled. It wasn't long before I noticed how, ahead of me, there were no rooftops or crumbling spires—no outlines of buildings at all. The fog stretched forward, eerily empty.

Araksiun, as Elina once explained, was so vast and varied that entire stretches of it belonged to natural landmarks. Yet, until I started these journeys between districts, I had barely grasped how immense it truly was. Great chasms, sheer cliffs, fallen debris forming mountains—these obstacles often made certain routes impassable unless one could fly or had the stamina to scale precarious heights while being an easy target for flying monsters. The city's labyrinthine nature was both man-made and natural, crisscrossed with roads that might crumble or vanish into the fog.

For me, finding a path became a matter of necessity. The route from District 1 to 2 had tested that. Now, with mountains of rubble blocked off in many places, I worried I might face yet another enormous detour. But to my surprise, the main road on this leg looked strangely clear—at least from what I could discern through the swirling haze.

Soon, I reached the edge of what used to mark the end of District 2, passing the last guard post I could find. A while later, running along the primary road, I arrived at what was supposedly District 3. That was when I understood why no structures loomed on the horizon.

District 3 was… a hole.

An impossibly large crater stretched before me, spanning kilometers in every direction. I approached its rim, breath catching in my throat. The hole wasn't ragged like a meteor strike. Its sides dropped steeply and smoothly away, as if a godlike hand had carved a perfect void. The bottom lay hidden in darkness and swirling fog, far beyond my sight. It was as if District 3, once a bustling place, had been scooped out of existence.

Whatever happened here, it had left an enormous gouge in the city. The edges were carved in sharp lines, descending into swirling mist. As I peered down, I spotted countless cave entrances perforating the vertical walls. Inside them, eyes glinted in the half-light—innumerable beasts lurking in the darkness. The deeper the fog drifted, the more caves I saw, forming a vast, layered hive of underground monsters. It reminded me of an inverted fortress, carved into the pit's sides, with predators prowling or flying in and out of yawning tunnels.

High above, overhead in the open sky, winged creatures wheeled and dived, screeching as they tangled in aerial battles. Occasionally, they clashed with beasts emerging from the cavern mouths. Acidic drool or spiked projectiles traced arcs across the gloom, marking where two creatures fought in midair. Their shrieks reverberated off the sheer walls, echoing up to my vantage point.

A chill ran through me. It felt as though the entire underworld had converged right here, filling those gaping caves that riddled the sides. And overhead, just above the lip, flying creatures screeched at intervals, spiraling downward in constant battle with the denizens of the hole.

But strangest of all was the bridge.

It lay farther along the crater's rim, forming a thin line that extended into the fog-draped emptiness. My curiosity flared, so I edged closer. This was no rickety structure of wood and rope, nor even a proper arch with reinforced supports. Rather, it was a narrow stone path, barely thirty centimeters wide, that spanned an unfathomable distance across the abyss. There were no railings, no carved pillars—just an unguarded bridge of smooth stone, jutting out as though nature or magic had shaped a perfect ledge.

If not for the faint glimmers of runic or magical residue along its edges, I might have thought it a miraculous geological formation. Yet it seemed far too deliberate. Stone that even a few hours before I would have called "impossibly polished," with no sign of mortar or handiwork. It extended into the dense fog for what could have been kilometers, bridging the gaping maw of what was once District 3.

Somehow, I thought of Markus. I remembered how he ambled around the fog, unconcerned with obstacles. Maybe he or another creature akin to him—had forged this passage using powerful magic. After all, for large beasts, a thirty-centimeter ledge would be pointless. But if this was specifically crafted by or for a bipedal being, it might make sense. Then again, maybe a powerful beast or monstrous creature had done it for their own inscrutable reasons.

I recalled how the Chainrunners' veteran run had covered a route all the way to District 11. They had not mentioned anything about a bizarre bridge like this, nor the hole. So it must have appeared afterward, possibly after the city fell into deeper ruin. If the Chainrunners had stumbled upon it, I doubted they could have run across such a perilous path and survived.

Which led me to one chilling conclusion: likely Markus himself, or someone of equal might, had created it afterwards.

One slip on that stone path would send me plunging into the misty depths, likely for kilometers. I trembled at the thought. Even with my long sleeps, an endless fall into a pit teeming with underground monstrosities seemed like a nightmare. The surface alone bristled with countless hungry eyes. Below? I could not guess how many more terrifying creatures lurked.

After wandering the perimeter for a few hours, checking if some other route existed, I realized the entire region was encircled by this colossal crater. Rubble and collapsed structures formed natural barriers or walls that sealed off any alternative paths. Indeed, the only apparent way forward was the precarious stone bridge.

I breathed out shakily. Part of me wanted to laugh at how improbable this scenario felt—like a puzzle contrived by fate. The bridge might lead to salvation or doom. No comfortable half-measures. If I took one wrong step, I would plunge into the pit's gloom, where beasts lurked in the tunnels and winged terrors drifted overhead.

My fear wasn't so much of being cornered halfway across by flying monsters as it was of falling. Could I sprint the entire distance? The bridge stretched beyond sight. Even if I tried, the slightest interference from a creature brushing my shoulder could send me tumbling.

I gazed out, watching a shape slither up one of the cave openings—a hulking shoggoth. Its tongue lashed out, snaring a passing flyer that shrieked before vanishing into the shoggoth's maw. Acid from a flying beast splattered the wall, and I watched it drip perilously close to the stone bridge. Remarkably, the bridge seemed unaffected by the corrosive substance, but it was a sobering display of how violent the pit's ecosystem was.

I stood at the crater's edge, confronted by a choice. Without a safe detour, crossing this narrow bridge was the only option if I wanted to continue toward the lower districts. Kara churned with potential strategies, none of which guaranteed my passage. The notion of walking that thin bridge, overshadowed by monsters on every side, felt like madness.

The wind carried faint screeches and slithering echoes from below, sending ripples of tension through my body. Running a hand along the edge of my cloak, I tried to calm myself. Could I really dash across the entire length unscathed, fighting or dodging whatever attacked me? The idea seemed absurd. Yet I saw no alternative. The crater was simply too expansive and too deeply infested.

Taking a last look at the swirling gloom, I felt the weight of the trial press on my chest. This was bigger than the day I faced my first diremaws, bigger than any random skirmish in the fog. If I slipped, if I let fear paralyze me, I would be lost to the darkness below.

Acid still dripped from the distant spot. Even the environment itself felt like a battleground. Everything here was lethal. Carefully, I stepped back from the brink, letting my breath even out. The hole itself stretched so far that it blurred into the fog, a pale line of stone bridging an abyss that seemed to swallow all reason.


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