Chapter 255 - 254. The Silent Hunt (1)
The encounter with the dark entity left a heavy weight on my mind. It was no longer a matter of just the Temple’s corruption or the Saint’s hidden plight. Something far more insidious was at play, a third force lurking in the shadows—one that felt ancient, powerful, and calculating. It wasn’t human, of that I was certain. And now, it was here in Denril, most likely for me.
The implications unsettled me. If it had been lingering in the kingdom before I arrived, then perhaps my presence had inadvertently drawn its attention. On the other hand, if it had followed me here, that was even worse. It meant that whatever this entity was, it had been watching, waiting, and now, it was closing in.
I didn’t have the luxury of time to confront it. My focus needed to remain on the task at hand—exposing the Temple and ensuring Mirielle’s safety. But the entity’s presence couldn’t be ignored. It was a shadow in the corner of my vision, a constant reminder that something darker loomed on the horizon.
Days passed, and its presence became more palpable. It no longer stayed hidden in the background of my awareness but seemed to pulse with a quiet menace, growing stronger with each passing hour. I could sense it, a faint ripple in the fabric of reality, always watching, always waiting.
One night, it finally revealed itself.
In my dream.
I found myself in that familiar, haunting dreamscape again—the one with the crying child. The air was thick with an oppressive fog, and the sound of the child’s sobs echoed through the darkness. His voice was weak, broken, yet persistent as it called out to me. Each cry pulled at my chest, a visceral tug that made it impossible to ignore.
But tonight was different.
The child was still there, a fragile silhouette curled in on itself, but something else lingered at the edges of the dream. A presence. It loomed just beyond the fog, its form obscured but unmistakably there. It stayed in the periphery, hovering at the very edge of my vision, never fully revealing itself.
It was mocking me.
I could feel its intent, a quiet, malicious amusement as it watched me struggle to comfort the child. Every time I tried to reach out, the child’s cries would grow more distant, as if the entity was deliberately keeping me from him.