Chapter 76: Did She Wait For Me?

While Elias was making his way back toward the manor, Priest Mekah had already climbed into a carriage with Deacon Bram, and the moment the carriage door closed behind them, the driver urged the horses forward toward the eastern watch fort.

The road leading out of Kilmir gradually became quieter as they moved away from the city, and before long, the familiar buildings were replaced by stretches of open land and defensive structures built to monitor the surrounding wilderness.

The eastern watch fort stood ahead, its tall stone walls visible from a considerable distance, and beyond it lay the location of the Grade Two spatial rift.

Mekah remained silent throughout most of the journey, his hand resting against his beard as he thought about what had happened earlier.

Charles had returned.

That alone was strange enough, but the old priest could not shake the feeling that there was something more to the situation than a simple survivor emerging from a spatial rift.

Bram, however, seemed far more excited.

"Your Greatness, do you think the boy really survived the entire time inside the rift?" he asked.

"I do not know," Mekah replied calmly, and his gaze remained fixed ahead through the carriage window. "That is precisely why I want to see him myself."

The carriage continued forward, and within minutes they arrived at the camp, where several guards, servants, and knights had gathered near one of the temporary tents established beside the rift.

Their conversations immediately quieted when they noticed the Sun Church carriage approaching.

Some stepped aside while others bowed their heads respectfully, and a guard hurried toward the carriage as Mekah and Bram stepped down.

"We are extremely thankful for your presence, Your Greatness," the guard said as he bowed deeply.

Mekah smiled warmly and raised a hand.

"Let us see the child," he said.

The guard nodded and immediately turned around, leading them toward one of the tents where the raid captain and several other personnel had gathered.

The unusual atmosphere around the camp became even more noticeable as they approached, because although everyone was trying to remain composed, their expressions betrayed their curiosity and unease.

Whatever had happened to Charles had clearly disturbed them.

The guard stopped before a large tent and lifted the entrance flap.

"Priest Mekah and Deacon Bram have arrived, my lord," he notified.

"Come in," Daemon answered from inside.

Mekah entered first, followed by Bram and the guard, and Daemon immediately rose from his chair before giving the priest a respectful greeting.

"It is great to see you again, Priest Mekah," Daemon said.

"May the Sun shine on you forever," Mekah replied.

However, the moment his gaze moved past Daemon, his expression changed.

A figure was sitting in a chair at the far corner of the tent, and the robe covering his body made it difficult to see much of him at first glance.

Mekah’s eyes narrowed.

It was Charles.

The ranger was sitting unnaturally still, with his pale hands resting against his legs while his entire body trembled beneath the robe. His face had lost nearly all of its color, and his eyes appeared blurry and almost lifeless.

Yet what bothered Mekah the most was not Charles’s appearance.

It was what he could not sense.

"What is wrong with him?" Mekah asked, stepping closer.

Daemon glanced toward Charles before answering.

"He has been like this since stepping out of the rift," he explained. "When he appeared, he was nearly naked, and the armor that remained on him was broken beyond recognition. That is why we had the servants put that robe on him."

Mekah nodded slowly as he studied Charles.

He extended his spiritual perception, carefully examining the ranger from head to toe, and the more he looked, the stranger the situation became.

There was nothing wrong with him.

At least, nothing that Mekah could perceive.

Spiritualists were particularly sensitive to abnormalities, because their path required them to form bonds with creatures from the Spirit Realm. As they advanced through their ranks, their connection with the spiritual world became increasingly profound, allowing them to sense changes that ordinary people could never notice.

Even physical objects possessed a certain spiritual weight, and living beings carried an even stronger presence.

Charles should have been overflowing with signs of spiritual damage if something had happened to him inside the spatial rift.

Instead, his spirit seemed completely intact.

The problem was that he looked as though grim reaper itself was standing behind him.

His pale skin, lifeless eyes, and constant trembling made him appear like a corpse that had somehow forgotten to fall over, yet spiritually, he was fine.

Mekah frowned as he continued examining him.

"I do not see anything wrong with him either," he finally said.

Daemon’s brows furrowed.

"Then what could have happened?"

Mekah withdrew his spiritual perception and stroked his beard.

"Perhaps the rift was too much for him," he suggested.

"Perhaps..." Daemon mumbled.

Neither of them seemed convinced.

Mekah glanced at Charles once more, but the ranger did not react to their conversation. He simply remained seated, his body trembling faintly while his unfocused eyes stared ahead.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Elias had already returned to the manor.

After entering through the front door, he exchanged a few words with the servants before making his way upstairs, and his thoughts immediately returned to the decision he had made earlier.

He needed to speak with Natasha first.

She was usually the easiest person to approach when he wanted to discuss something serious.

He reached his room and pushed the door open quietly, expecting to find her awake.

Instead, the sight before him made him stop.

Natasha was still sleeping on the bed, her arms wrapped around a pillow.

Her long black hair was slightly disheveled, and faint dark circles rested beneath her eyes, making it obvious that she had not gotten enough rest.

Elias stared at her for several seconds before his expression softened.

His gaze lingered on her tired face, and a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"Did she wait for me last night...?" he mumbled, stunned.