The Invincible Young Master

Long as his palm, pale white with veins of golden light etched along the spine. It pulsed faintly, humming with residual energy, the same presence that had drawn him here.

For the first time in a long while, Reynold's mask of calm cracked. His eyes tightened, emotion flickering like a ripple across still water.

This… there is no mistake.

He knew this feather.

His sister always carried them, plucking quills steeped in mana to carve runes and inscribe her intricate incantations.

In her hands, they were no mere writing tools; they were weapons of creation, as natural to her as a blade to a warrior. She would never leave one behind without reason.

Soft footsteps approached from behind. Reynold didn't turn.

Lina had followed. She stopped just a few paces away, her gaze falling on the feather in his hand.

"…It's Sister Silica's," she whispered, relief and dread intertwining in her voice.

Reynold's grip tightened before he placed the feather aside. He gave a single, steady nod.

"Yes. She was here."

He rose, brushing soil from his palms. Whatever emotion had surfaced vanished behind the steel of his expression, replaced by calmness once more.

"Let's continue ahead."

Lina studied him for a heartbeat longer. She saw the shift others might miss; his aura wavered, no longer perfectly steady.

But she said nothing, only gave a faint nod before falling in beside him.

The march resumed. Lina once again took the lead, her staff glowing faintly to light the path.

The soldiers followed in silence, their boots crunching over brittle leaves.

After a while, the march once again came to a halt.

Before them loomed a tree so vast it seemed to pierce the heavens themselves. Its trunk dwarfed fortress gates, roots coiled thicker than city walls, and its crown stretched so high it disappeared into the clouds.

At its base yawned a hollow large enough to swallow their entire army, a dark, gaping maw, like the mouth of an ancient beast waiting for prey.

"This…" one man muttered, his voice trembling. "This tree… it touches the sky…"

Even the generals, hardened by countless campaigns, could not mask their unease.

Lina stepped forward, her tone firm, carrying over the hush.

"T-this," she said, "is the gateway to the next layer."

Her hand slipped into her storage ring.

A shimmer of light rippled outward, and a new staff appeared in her grasp.

It was unlike the one she had wielded before. The shaft gleamed silver, its surface glowing faintly as though steeped in moonlight.

A holy aura radiated from it, pure and serene, washing over the army like a tide. Even the weary soldiers, their nerves stretched thin by days of marching, felt their breathing steady, their thoughts calming under its presence.

She stored away her old staff, its faint glow vanishing like a retreating ember.

Then, with steady hands, she lifted the silver one high.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Lina stepped into the hollow beneath the colossal tree. The others followed close behind, their footsteps heavy with both caution and faith.

"-Shatter!"

Her voice rang like a divine command, sharp and absolute, cleaving through the air.

The world broke.

The forest, the towering tree, the roots beneath their feet, all of it fractured like glass, splintering into shards of light before dissolving.

In the blink of an eye, the army found itself elsewhere.

They stood inside a chamber of endless darkness.

At once, the soldiers tried to summon light. Flames flared, sparks of lightning cracked, radiant orbs floated into being, yet each one died the moment it appeared.

The dark swallowed them whole, devouring their glow like an invisible maw.

Even the generals, their energy towering above the common soldiers, failed to hold a single spark. It was like throwing torches into an abyss that consumed all.

Murmurs rippled through the ranks, panic edging their voices.

"What is this place…?"

"I can't sense walls, anything at all…"

Their words echoed, hollow, swallowed instantly by the void.

The only light that remained was the silver glow of Lina's staff at the very front. Its radiance, soft yet unyielding, carved a fragile boundary against the darkness. Without it, they would have been blind.

Ling Yan narrowed her eyes, her tone steady though laced with unease. "Is this… the fourth layer?"

"Yes," Lina answered, her voice calm and resolute.

"Then why such darkness? Why can't we summon light?" Ling Yan asked.

The silver light in Lina's hand pulsed brighter, as if echoing her words.

"B-because I shattered the illusion," she said. "W-what you see now is likely the ruin's true form. A-and the darkness… this place suppresses all forms of magic, except the holy."

Her words struck the soldiers harder than any monster's roar.

A silence fell, heavy and suffocating. All around them stretched an abyss without horizon, no walls, no ceiling, no ground they could truly sense. Only endless dark, eternal, and still.

For the first time since stepping into the ruins, even the bravest among them felt unease coil around their hearts.

It was not the fear of something they could see.

It was the dread of what might be waiting, hidden in the dark.

Guided only by the silver glow of Lina's staff, they advanced step by cautious step into the boundless dark.

The soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, their eyes straining beyond the fragile circle of light, but nothing existed there, only an abyss that refused to be pierced.

Even the battle-hardened generals, men who had faced armies and beasts alike, began to feel unease coil through their minds.

Here, they were stripped bare. Fire, light, even the faintest ripple of energy, all of it was smothered, denied to them.

In such a place, the only thing left was the sound of their own racing hearts and the rising tide of restless thoughts.

More than one soldier clenched their jaw so hard it ached, afraid that if they stayed too long in this emptiness, madness might claim them.