The Wandering Fairy [LitRPG World-Hopping]

Recalling the information he had learned from Mistress Sienna, there were a few details regarding the Vynasians that she and her fellow scholars agreed on.

One, their actions seem random, but everything they do was for a cause. Much effort was spent on even opening the Rift fractures, so each time they have invaded this world, they have done it carefully and with much planning in mind.

Two, the world rejects their existence. The Beyond doesn't seem keen on representing them properly, and the very act of perceiving them brings its ire. Because of this, the Vynasians have to resort to possession just to descend into this world safely. Those who voluntarily give their bodies to the Vynasians become the Fallen, traitors to this entire realm.

And three, the openings to the Rift can only occur when the Orbits of Fate are in motion. Due to Yarian's Celestial Fate being frozen, the Vynasians have trouble fully entering and leaving as they like. Their only opportunity to do so happens when the sacred vows of the Divine Accord are broken—something the Whispering Dream continues to seek.

When putting these things together, it becomes obvious why the chaos within this little village, hidden beneath snow and wind, has spread so infectiously, so quickly. Soren understood that fate was driving him toward Mount Tolarion. It began subtly, but now, it was becoming as clear as the sky. He previously theorized that it might have something to do with his approaching death due to his Soul Chain's corruption, but now, he was beginning to suspect something else entirely.

The Whispering Dream.

Just as Soren had been busy these past few months, so has that elusive saint… News of him was as hard to come by as the God's answers, but when it does arrive, one can only be left silent in thought. Every tremor and every cry this world stirs was an ode to his actions…

And the speed of those actions was only becoming quicker and quicker… Just like fate's motivation for sending him to that mountain. As if… they were racing against one another.

Today, he has once again been reminded of this reality. Due to his Fate Star being outside the purview of this world, Soren has the ability to warp the orbits of others involved with him. He had tested this extensively during the Crimson Ritual Incident, where he was able to alter the path of fate slightly using his connection to Tazzith.

Although he was now being directed by those same orbits toward Mount Tolarion, there was no questioning the true nature of his existence.

And it was this nature that the Vynasians exploited. They utilized his own alterations of fate against him to draw the Blossom Sword Flower into the perfect place to ambush Her.

Such a meticulous plan… It couldn't have been thought up in a day. No doubt, Soren was sure that the day his prophecy became known, they had already begun orchestrating everything he was witnessing so far.

"What happened? What did you see?!" Myrin shook him awake. His sight and other senses were still a mess, but he could at least perceive everything around him.

With much difficulty, Soren shook his head. "Can't tell you… Not now."

"It was that bad?.."

"....."

Soren coughed a few more times before lifting himself off the ground. "Heal me a bit more… I have something to do."

Although Myrin wanted to protest, he knew Soren long enough to realize it was pointless. That damned look on his face was too obvious.

"Fine…" He closed his eyes and channeled his anima even further. Although it wasn't going to recover his strength, his internal bleeding will at least stop.

Half-blind, he turned to Myrin and Cassia one last time and nodded. "Keep her safe. We'll get ready to leave this shithole once I'm back."

With that said, he activated Violet Mirage once again, disintegrating into an array of violet-colored butterflies that were instantly swept by the howling wind.

Myrin looked at the scene in a daze. A part of him wanted to question Soren further, but he knew by now to trust his judgement on such things.

He brought his hand to his chest and smiled wryly. Eyes drawn to the sleeping figure of his apprentice sister.

"Our junior really is a hand-full, isn't he?"

All around him, the sound of swords clashing could be heard. A few explosions came and went in between the rhythms of death and carnage. The young warriors of the tribe were forced to fight against their family and friends. Not even the children were spared.

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As Soren walked slowly in between the chaos, he couldn't help but feel a sense of Deja Vu. It was as if the events he had witnessed in that vision were being recreated… A repeat of history.

In the distance, he noticed two familiar figures, fighting side by side against something neither dared to approach.

Uruk and Isha. Spear and scepter in hand. Both pointed at the monstrosity before them.

A monstrosity that neither wanted to attack.

"Grandmother…" Isha yelled beneath a fountain of tears. "Please stop! Just surrender and we will figure out a way to bring you back! I promise we won't hurt you!"

No response.

The warm and kind old lady he had seen a few times in the village had been transformed. Her caring expression of love for her grandchildren was long gone. All that remained was a vessel to be exploited. An expression that none could look at…

Even a single glimpse at her twisted twisted shadow was enough to cause nausea.

"It's no use, Isha. Move aside." Uruk grit his teeth, taking a step forward with his spear in hand.

"No, brother! Don't!"

"Don't stop me," he placed the animal mask over his face. "We must put grandmother to rest."

"Good answer," Out of nowhere, a glass-like sword flew in the direction of the old lady, piercing her skull. The old grandmother instantly fell to her knees without resistance.

Uruk and Isha stood there, unable to process what had happened. Their gaze naturally shifted to the side, where they found a limping and injured Soren walking toward them. Blood covered his eyes as he casually avoided the surrounding battles, as if none could notice his presence.

"Its good to see the both of you are still ali—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Uruk rushed to grab him by the collar.

"You damned bastard!"

"Unhand me," Soren didn't even bother to feel fear. There were more important things to worry about.

"How dare you do that to grandma!"

"You know better than me that wasn't your grandma."

He bit his own lips. Just as he was about to throw a punch, Isha came and stopped him. "Brother, stop!"

After a few seconds, he threw Soren into the snow and looked back at what remained of their family.

Unlike before, they could now look at her corpse without any strange sensations invading their minds…

"What the hell is happening… Why… Why did this have to happen."

Soren answered back, "A continuation of what had occurred fifty years ago. History has repeated itself."

The pair of siblings knelt before what remained of their family. They tried to hold back their tears, but the dams broke anyway.

Soren slowly stood up. "There's no time to grieve yet… Both of you get up."

"What the hell do you know?!" Uruk lashed out. "You're just a damn foreigner! None of this would have happened if you didn't come here!"

Soren shook his head. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps this is all my fault. Perhaps coming to this village was a mistake.

"I don't really know what the truth is. Not, all of it, at least. But I do know that if we allow this to continue, you two won't be the only ones grieving today."

Isha looked past her tears at him for a few moments then stood up.

"Sister?"

"He's right, Uruk… We still have to fulfill our duty."

The young warrior's anima flared around him, like a wild tornado. He wanted to lash out at something… At someone.

"If you want to blame someone for this, blame Elder Kaalan. He's the one who started this. "

Although it was somewhat of a lie, Soren needed to give them something to point their frustrations at… And in a way, his lie wasn't even wrong. Elder Kaalan might not have been the one to orchestrate the demise of the Nagashi tribe fifty years ago, but as one of the strongest shamans in the village and the only person who remembered that twisted past, what was happening today was certainly his work.

"Elder Kaalan…" Uruk muttered beneath the animal mask. His voice trembled with venom and fire. "So it really was him…"

He slowly stood up and walked toward Soren. "You have a plan right?" For a second, their eyes locked. Madness reflecting in both of them.

Soren nodded.

"Then let's go." He walked ahead impatiently, slicing through a few Vynasians in the process. Unlike the ones Soren saw in his vision, the ones standing before him were far weaker… A testament of time's power.

No doubt, Kaalan was likely only using them as a distraction so that he could deal with the Blossom Sword Flower uninterrupted.

Isha on the other hand helped Soren walk. "Where do we need to go?"

His eyes naturally trailed toward the colossal shadow cast by the Serpent Statue.

"To the Serpent's Shrine."