Chapter 347 - || 339 || Gala'En Core

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The steps creaked as weight was relieved from the wood. Moulin was the last to climb down the stairs. His steps grew soft as he continued to walk, following the two elves in front of him. A mystical air surrounded the area brought from the magnificent lights and the vastness of the place. The spiral staircase of wood and coiling vines was the centerpiece of the abysmal vertical tunnel. Moulin felt undeniably small within the wideness of the space. The walls were covered with exquisite flowers with petals emitting a wonderful glow. They weren't too bright, enshrouding the place with a comfortable dim light.

The scene was truly breathtaking. If Moulin weren't mulling over Arcefi's words, he would have gaped at the sight. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Silver eyes intently stared at the slender aphrodite's back. Arcefi, with a pleasant smile on his face, was trailing behind Na'El. As he walked, he'd sometimes glance at Moulin and would deliberately slow down his steps, so Moulin wasn't too far behind them. Moulin wasn't offended by what he said. Instead, he thought of why the elf had a strong belief in aphrodites doing their roles respectively as other people would see them.

There wasn't a hint of malice within the child's eyes. However, Moulin sensed a bit of reluctance and discomfort when he mentioned the 'rumors' about him. "..."

After a little while, the three finally approached tremendous doors at the center of a giant wall. Aside from the large roots that seemed to seal the doors, the wall was plain, and there wasn't a single decorative object or even a flower on its surface. Between the gaps of the roots covering the doors, Moulin could see bits of detailed carvings embellishing the door.

Na'El glanced at Moulin's impassive yet curious look and turned away, amused. He stood a step before the large roots that enclosed the entrance. Raising his hand, he touched the roots and muttered a word in Elven language.

In the next instance, the ground shook beneath their feet. Moulin watched in surprise as the roots moved, unfurling themselves before them. Slowly, they retreated back in the holes surrounding the sides of the doors, granting Moulin and the two elves entry.

Moulin was lying if he said that he wasn't fascinated.

"Come, young master." Arcefi said to Moulin before hurrying behind Na'El, who pushed the doors open.

The sound echoed throughout the vast area. It was almost eerie. However, Moulin only felt inquisitive as he followed the two elves inside.

The moment he entered, a warm breeze swept past him. The air danced with the white strands of his hair as if fondling it playfully. And what met Moulin's eyes beyond the doorway was a magnificent green garden filled with luscious flowers, small trees, and saplings, as well as a small pond.

The scent of flowers aroused a nostalgic feeling within Moulin akin to how he always felt when he was inside his secret garden in the estate. He could hear birds chirping as if singing a song, the sound of splashes in the pond, and the pleasant rustle of leaves. Various kinds of flowers adorned every part of the garden. Beaming overhead was a giant hole with carvings of the sun's rays around its edges. It light brought warmth and light throughout the area.

Moulin stepped on the grass, bewildered at the scene around him.

"Surprised, are you?" Na'El spoke as his steps ceased. Moulin heard his words, but his eyes scanned the area in interest. He was indeed captivated. Moulin was curious about how life within the vast room could survive.

As if he heard Moulin's thoughts, Na'El spoke with a smile. "The opening above is a portal. Its other end is located high up above the thick layers of clouds that enshrouds our realm. It catches the sunlight and shines them here in the garden. The winds as well."

The moment his words fell, a gust of wind blew around Moulin. It was strong pulling at his hair and his clothes, but the young man remained still and firm like a formidable pillar. As if giving up, the wind withdrew, letting a little flower petal flutter, delicately landing on top of his head.

Na'El chuckled deeply as he gestured them to follow while Arcefi furrowed his brows as he observed Moulin.

"What is this place?" Moulin asked softly as his eyes gazed around the room.

"This is the birthplace of the core, Young Master." The Oracle glanced at the young man over his shoulder.

"If so... is it secured?"

Na'El nodded. "The trees."

'The trees?'

Moulin looked at him questionably before his gaze drifted to the rows of trees standing tall like daunting temple columns. At first, Moulin didn't find any strange things about them. However, he noticed slight movements from the branches. How their leafy crowns trembled, scaring away the birds that perched on them. Some of them had their branches crossing over their trunks like a human would cross their arms. Finally, as Moulin was squinting his eyes slightly to catch other oddities, one of the trees shook briefly before two holes split open like eyelids. A pair of glowing green eyes glowed, briefly gazing at Moulin.

Moulin blinked in surprise as his legs kept walking. "Those are..."

"Treants." Na'El nodded. "Our guardians."

Moulin slowly nodded his head as he watched the tree close its eyes as if falling into a deep sleep.

The Elven Oracle then led the two aphrodites towards a strange-looking niche at the end of the garden. "Fuelling the core will expend tremendous energy from your body. Thus, it is normal to be exhausted. Concentrate your power, accumulate it within your palms, and after... you hold its hand."

"...?"

Hold what?

Confused, Moulin's eyes stared at Na'El's back, who pretended not to notice his troubled gaze.

They stood before the depression of the wall. It was big enough to be a doorway. Detailed engravings of vines, leaves, and flowers endowed edges of the niche, spreading outwards. They looked so life-like that Moulin thought he would mistake them as real if it weren't for the grey color of the stoned all. The grass beneath their feet tickled the leathers of Moulin's boots, and tiny flowers swayed cheerfully as if they were dancing around him. The young man's gaze deepened as he stared at the empty niche.

He could sense it—the thriving ambiance of mana. So pure and potent, it dominated Moulin's senses significantly. Now, he no longer wondered why the swarm would chase after the tree's core. If they had succeeded, perhaps, the world would be welcoming another fearsome threat. Moulin manually shuddered.

Na'El smiled faintly and turned to face Moulin, "It's time..."

"To what?" A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"You'll do fine..." Arcefi encouraged.

Na'el nodded, "Remember the words I told you. It shouldn't be hard for you to do, young master."

Moulin frowned. 'Why were they ignoring my question?'

Soon after, Moulin felt a shift in the air. He turned around and took a step back. There was a ripple on the niche walls, like wrinkles on disturbed waters. Moulin watched, wide-eyed. Anticipation bubbled within him.

Not long after, grey fingers emerged from the walls and further until two arms were reaching out for the silver-eyed purifier. They were unhurried with elegance in their movements and appeared like the slender arms of a woman. However, they were grey in color like the walls. The arms paused. One is raised with slightly curled fingers while the arrow was lowered, offering a hand as if to ask the young aphrodite for a dance.

Moulin stood unmoving as he stared at the hands. When he glanced at Thundralln's Imperial Oracle, he recieved a nod—urging him to take the hand. It wouldn't harm him.

With a sigh, Moulin slightly closed his eyes and took the hand. The touch was soft, and its fingers were cold around his. Slowly, the other hand reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear. The action was gentle and kind. The two elves behind Moulin stiffened as they witnessed the scene.

Suddenly, the hand began pulling Moulin into the niche. From its movements, it was behaving as if it was escorting a precious person. Moulin closed his eyes and let himself be led into the invisible portal. The curved wall swallowed his body, and serenity settled within the garden.

Na'El and Arcefi, who were left standing before the niche, blinked—frozen in their places.

Not long after, Na'El opened his mouth as he gaped at the place where Moulin disappeared. "Did the spirit keeper treat you like that before?"

Arcefi shook his head, "No... It... never did."

"Hm..." Thoughtfully, Na'El turned around, gazing at the scenic view before him. How interesting...

......

Moulin gasped when he emerged at the other side. The pressure around his hand had vanished. Moulin twisted his wrist then realized that the hand leading him in the niche had disappeared. And his hands were glowing-No, his whole body was brightly glowing. His clothes were white, and it looked as if Moulin had been brought back to his previous world.

His head lowered as he stared at his fingers, gleaming brightly. Wonder etched his face, and questions began swarming in his mind. He was like a lone star within the endless black of the night sky. Brilliant and dazzling yet... Alone.

When he looked past his finger, landing his gaze on the mirror-like floor, he saw his reflection. Moulin froze. His breath was stuck in his throat.

He looked exactly like his past self. His heart pounded erratically and his hands trembled. His short curly hair, his skinny arms, and his fearful eyes.

"What is this?" He whispered. Voice trembling as he touched his face, and his breathing quickened.

Hastily, he looked around.

Darkness surrounded him. It is himself that remained bright despite his ominous surroundings. Dread slowly poured into his heart. Oblivious of the sudden fear of returning to where he came from.

Suddenly, he sensed a presence behind him. Moulin drew his brows together, growing vigilant. Despite the chaotic feeling in his heart, he turned around.

Bright White Light...

Moulin raised his hand to cover his face as his eyes squinted. The glare was so bright he could not determine anything in front of him. Just when he thought he needed to look away, the light gradually dimmed until only a small figure stood a few meters away from him.

Moulin blinked, allowing himself to adjust his vision. When his vision cleared, he paused. Silver eyes widened slightly.

It was a little boy hugging his knees tightly as if he was afraid.

Moulin raised his brows and stared. "..."

Then the boy raised his head slowly. His youthful countenance faced Moulin. His whole body was glowing white. Sparkles flickered around him, and it made the boy look dazzling. His bright eyes gazed at Moulin in surprise. However, it shortly shifted to sadness.

"You..." His voice is as pleasant as wind chimes, ringing with the gentle breeze.

"For a second... I thought you were my friend?" He added softly—confusion formed on his face.

...

"Your friend?" Moulin furrowed his brows while he replied.

"!!!"

The boy looked at him in shock. His eyes were wide, bulging. Breathing heavily, he scrambled to rise on his feet. This time, his full form was revealed before Moulin. Disbelief filled his face as he met Moulin's gaze.

With trembling lips, he spoke.

"Y-You can hear.... me?"

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