Chapter 210 Slarh’quon
The Volanthis River began to undergo a striking transformation as its once crystal-clear waters darkened ominously. Initially shifting to a deep emerald green, it then morphed into an unsettling, inky black hue that evoked memories of something sinister. Fitran abruptly stopped paddling, narrowing his eyes as if attempting to pierce through the heavy silence that enveloped them. In an instant, the wind fell silent, replaced by an oppressive stillness that clung to the air like a shroud. The birds that had filled the cerulean sky moments before vanished without a trace, leaving an eerie quiet that felt far too profound to be natural.
"Rinoa," Fitran whispered firmly, his voice soft yet urgent. "Don't move."
Before them, the water began to simmer slowly, the surface bubbling as if it were drawing near a boiling point. Then, without warning, a mysterious shape emerged from the depths—initially revealing itself as a vague black mist, it gradually solidified into something that transcended the ordinary world. An ancient magic coalesced around them, a palpable force that ignited a spiral of shimmering light, exuding an aura that was both mesmerizing and terrifying.
The entity stood—or hovered, it was hard to tell—above the river's surface. Slarh'quon.
Its form resembled a grotesque fusion of bones, swirling smoke, and shadows steeped in the darkness of a long-buried past. Surrounding it, shimmering sigils pulsated with a life of their own, depicting ancient powers lost to time. Featureless and foreboding, it bore only a shattered mask—an eerie testament to an age long forgotten. The grotesque body was filled with a writhing mass of gnarled hands, twisting and grasping at one another as if caught in a relentless struggle against its own nature. From the very depths of this entity emerged the heart-wrenching cries of children and the haunting whispers of old women, intermingled with the reverberations of prayers spoken in a language that had faded away even before the first humans set foot upon the earth.
Rinoa slowly backed away to Fitran's side, her body trembling violently. Yet, it was not fear that caused her to shake, but the bitter reality that the world around her refused to accept this creature—as if the very fabric of reality was trying desperately to expel Slarh'quon but could do nothing to stop it. In that harrowing moment, Slarh'quon unleashed a counterattack, emitting waves of darkness that voraciously consumed the surrounding light, creating a chilling and horrifying visual display. Each spell unleashed by the entity radiated a different hue, amplifying the horror of the increasingly tense situation, while outside, the uncertainty of the time limit on magic loomed like a dark cloud, imbued with a biting sense of urgency.
The creature spoke not with an ordinary voice, but with a bitter sensation that crawled through the bones, an oppressive inner pressure that made teeth chatter and thickened the blood, as if it was resisting its natural flow. This horrifying atmosphere wrapped around Rinoa, warming her soul against a backdrop of unbearable anguish, filling the air with palpable tension.
"𝘍𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯... 𝘬𝘢𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘵𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘪𝘸𝘢... 𝘬𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘬 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘶, 𝘬𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘱𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘬𝘮𝘶... 𝘬𝘢𝘶 𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘢. 𝘈𝘬𝘶... 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘨𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘢."
Slarh'quon raised her hands with an elegant motion, causing the surrounding river to freeze in a dramatic breath, the water's flow abruptly halting into an unyielding stillness. Their boat was ensnared in this frozen tableau, unable to move even slightly. The wind ceased its wandering, and time felt like a thick fog, suspended in a moment that belonged solely to this enigmatic being. In an instant, she uttered an ancient incantation with a deep, resonant voice, and a soft blue light blossomed from her palms, tracing a glowing sigil in the air before it faded into nothingness like the morning mist. This magic, known as the Ancestral Heritage, Arunika's Veil, conjured a temporary yet majestic ethereal shield. However, its durability fluttered like the fleeting twinkle of stars, quickly extinguished by the rising light of dawn.
Rinoa stood tall, her body trembling with emotion, yet her eyes sparkled fiercely with the fire of courage, illuminating her resolve like a beacon in the encroaching darkness.
"Did you come... to kill him?" she shouted, her voice echoing with bravery as she boldly blocked Fitran's path, her stance unwavering and determined, as if she were a guardian shielding her home from an impending storm.