Chapter 306: A Sobering Account

While the group wrestled with the implications of Sylveris’s presence, Aelric continued his explanation as though he had not just stirred a hornet’s nest.

Had he known the conundrum he had introduced, he might at least have had the courtesy to look apologetic. Instead, the green-eyed youth seemed entirely untroubled by the silence that had settled over his companions.

His attention shifted from the distant mountain peaks to the forest stretching beneath the overlook.

A gentle breeze swept across the precipice, stirring the edges of his tunic and carrying the cool spray of the waterfall behind him. Far below, the river fell into the glistening lake like a silver thread, its steady murmur almost soothing against the weight of his words.

"Of course, the Sanguine Mire is not the only region you need to be wary of," Aelric continued. "Once you cross it, you will eventually reach the Thornwild Expanse. Unlike the Mire, where most dangers come from poisonous creatures and the miasma, the Thornwild has a rather different way of making travellers regret entering."

This time, nobody made an unnecessary remark. Even Veyrath, who ordinarily could be relied upon to contribute some theatrical complaint, kept his mouth shut.

The group listened with a tense attentiveness that suggested they had finally learned the value of allowing Aelric to finish before deciding whether they liked what he had to say.

"You see, the Thornwild Expanse is characterized by an extraordinary density of vegetation, some of it no less imposing than the growth in the Scarlet Canopy. However, its trees grow much closer together, and their branches overlap so extensively that the forest floor is often swallowed by darkness. That is where much of the danger dwells."

Aelric gestured towards the distant woodland, as though the Thornwild might be visible beyond the crimson haze.

"As its name suggests, the Expanse is riddled with enormous, thorn-covered vines. Some stretch across entire clearings, while others coil around trunks or lie half-buried beneath the undergrowth. The thorns themselves are not particularly remarkable at first glance. The problem is that they are sharp enough to pierce even an Etheryean’s reinforced flesh, and some carry a potent toxin. A careless brush can leave a traveller weakened before they even realize they have been wounded. If I am not careful, I could fall victim to them myself."

The last admission drew a faint crease between Regaleon’s brows. If a Rank Three Etheryean considered the place dangerous, the rest of them had little reason to feel reassured.

At this point, the group could not help wondering whether Aelric was leading them on a journey or arranging an elaborate method of disposing of them.

Every region he described seemed to contain a new assortment of fatal inconveniences. First came the miasma and venomous creatures of the Sanguine Mire; now there were thorned vines capable of poisoning even an Etheryean.

They were beginning to suspect that the Nether Lands had been designed by someone with a particularly vindictive imagination.

When Aelric had insisted that they become Etheryeans before embarking, they had assumed he was being excessively cautious, perhaps exaggerating the dangers to discourage them from travelling unprepared.

They had even thought that life in the Scarlet Canopy, for all its monsters and crimson gloom, was rather uneventful compared with the ordeals he kept describing. Now, however, they were reconsidering that assessment. Perhaps the relative tranquillity of the Scarlet Canopy was not boredom at all, but a rare and enviable reprieve.

Unaware of the increasingly dismal calculations taking place behind their expressions, Aelric continued.

"Still, the thorns are not the greatest threat. The thing most likely to prove fatal is something known as a Thornwild Pit."

He paused, allowing the unfamiliar name to settle.

"Thornwild Pits are somewhat similar to quicksand, though the resemblance ends with their deceptively unstable nature. This is because they are far more sinister. These enormous natural depressions are scattered throughout the Expanse, often concealed beneath layers of vegetation, fallen leaves and thorn-covered growths. From above, the ground can appear perfectly solid. A single careless step, however, may send you plunging into a pit deep enough to swallow several people."

Caelestra’s brows drew together. "And how common are these pits?"

"Common enough that the probability of crossing the Expanse without encountering one is..." Aelric glanced at her. "Nil."

"In other words, we cannot avoid them?" she asked, her voice carefully measured.

Aelric turned towards her and smiled with an almost disarming cheerfulness. "No. No, you cannot."

The casual certainty of his answer was somehow more unsettling than a warning delivered in grave tones. Caelestra’s lips pressed into a thin line, and Veyrath looked as though he had just discovered an unexpected deduction in his personal expenses.

Kaeloris adjusted his spectacles, his brow furrowing beneath the lenses. "You know, Aelric, you have spent quite some time telling us about these wild regions and the many ways they might kill us. Yet you have not explained how we are supposed to avoid any of these dangers."

He lifted his gaze. "Surely there must be a method. You travelled all the way from the Sanctuary to the Crimson Forest without falling victim to these hazards. Unless you expect us to believe that you simply wandered through them and trusted your luck."

It was a reasonable question, and the others quickly recognized it. Aelric had admitted that even he, despite being a Rank Three Etheryean, could not guarantee his survival in every dangerous region.

Yet he had travelled between the Sanctuary and the Crimson Forest, apparently more than once, during the six years he had spent in the Nether Lands. Even allowing for the time he must have needed to improve his strength and familiarize himself with the surrounding territories, that left several years of journeys through places he now described as lethal.

It was an extraordinary record of survival. More importantly, it suggested that Aelric knew something he had not yet shared.

The green-eyed youth gave a small chuckle and shook his head. "You see, the only reason you assume the Nether Lands must be traversed on foot is because you have been walking through them."

Caelestra tilted her head. "And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing particularly complicated," he replied. "What if I told you that, most of the time, when I travelled to and from the Sanctuary, I did not walk?"

He allowed a beat of silence. "Instead... I flew."

For a moment, nobody reacted. They had expected him to mention a hidden route, some obscure passage through the forest, or perhaps a method of suppressing the dangers around him. Flying, however, was not an explanation any of them had anticipated.

Vaelorin was the first to recover. His red eyes narrowed, and a sceptical curl tugged at one corner of his mouth. "And you expect us to believe that?"

His disbelief was hardly unreasonable. Cultivation granted extraordinary abilities, but flight was not among those available to Etheryeans at their current level.

Aelric was an Aether Projector, a stage that allowed him to channel and project Aether through his body or weapons. It certainly did not grant him the privilege of taking to the skies. At least, not as far as Vaelorin knew.

Aelric merely smiled, offering no confirmation or denial. Instead, he returned to the matter at hand.

"Regardless of whether I can fly, what matters is that you prepare yourselves. The journey will not be easy, and there are numerous threats we will encounter along the way. One of them is a race of creatures known as the Cephalomidons."

Once again, he introduced a name none of them had ever heard.

"And who are these ones?" Valmyr asked. His broad shoulders shifted beneath his beastskin armour, and his hand settled more firmly against the hilt of his Broadsword. If Aelric considered them worth mentioning, they were unlikely to be harmless.

Aelric did not answer immediately. His gaze returned to the distant mountain peaks, their jagged silhouettes rising beyond the crimson woodland.

"When the time comes, you will know."

And just like that, he closed the matter.

For several moments, the group remained gathered near the cliff, contemplating the dangers awaiting them. Whether intentionally or not, Aelric had once again demonstrated that the journey ahead was far more perilous than any of them had imagined.

The wind swept across the overlook, carrying the waterfall’s cool spray against their faces while crimson fog drifted slowly beneath the enormous trees.

They had come expecting a glimpse of something significant, as Aelric had promised. Instead, they had received a sobering account of the trials awaiting them on the road to what they regarded as their supposed oasis in these lands.

Yet, despite the Thornwild Pits, the poisonous miasma and the countless other dangers, one detail lingered more stubbornly in their thoughts than all the rest: the mysterious race known as the Cephalomidons.

And somewhere in the Thornwild Expanse, the group had no doubt that their steps would eventually lead them to them...