"Even with all this around… it feels so empty," Keifer muttered from behind, his voice cutting through the stillness.
"Yes… you are right," Sumin replied softly, her eyes scanning the quiet landscape, the weight of silence pressing down on them like a heavy cloak.
The soldier motioned with a sharp gesture. "Move from here… this way," he said.
Without another word, they left the village and castle behind, making their way toward the distant mountains. The place was close to the castle, yet it carried an unsettling emptiness—an eerie desolation that seemed to swallow every sound and shadow alike.
They stood there for a moment, taking in the strange stillness. Yet for Shikuza, Sumin, and Keifer, this silence was unlike anything they had ever felt before—heavy, almost alive, pressing against their senses in a way that made their skin crawl.
The soldier spoke quietly, "Look over there."
Their eyes shifted reluctantly from the oppressive quiet, and they saw it—nestled between two towering mountains was a gate. But it was unlike any gate of this world; incomplete, half-formed, as if it existed somewhere between reality and something far stranger. Its edges wavered, and the air around it seemed to hum with an otherworldly tension.
Keifer's eyes were fixed on the gate, and without thinking, he began to step forward.
Shikuza raised his hand sharply. "Stop… do not go any closer. It could be dangerous," he warned, his voice firm and commanding.
Sumin, drawn by curiosity, moved forward cautiously. As she neared the gate, her gaze fell upon faint markings etched into the rocky ground—traces of something that had touched this place long before them, whispering secrets only the wind could understand.
Sumin slowly pulled off her glove, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out to touch the markings.
They were black… strange, almost alive in their texture, as if they had been placed there by some otherworldly force.
"Captain… please," the soldier warned urgently, his voice tight with fear. "Do not touch it! I do not know what this is… it could harm you."
But the markings seemed to pulse faintly under her fingertips, drawing her closer with a silent, irresistible pull.
Sumin quickly withdrew his hand, slipping his glove back on, and stepped back toward them. He glanced at the markings—nothing had happened. "See? Nothing," he said, his voice calm but curious.
Shikuza, however, grabbed sumin's hand before he could touch anything and yanked off his glove. "Do you see? Nothing is happening… yet look!" he said, pointing to the black markings, which now seemed to creep slowly across sumin's skin, spreading like ink in water.
"You really enjoy putting yourself in danger, don't you?" Shikuza added, his voice laced with a teasing warning, though his eyes burned with serious concern.
The soldier stepped forward, his expression serious. "This has happened to us before," he said, his voice low. "But once we return to the palace, I can give you a remedy. If you bind it to your hand properly, it will be contained… and you will be fine."
He glanced at the markings with a wary eye, as if even the act of looking at them carried a weight too heavy to ignore.
Shikuza's gaze swept over the area with sharp attention, scanning every inch of the strange landscape before him.
Step by step, he moved forward. The closer he got, the darker the surroundings became—the stones underfoot were blackened, as if scorched by some unseen force. The plants were wilted and withered, their flowers shriveled and lifeless, leaving the land feeling abandoned, cursed… and utterly unnatural.
It became a place where even hope seemed to hesitate before entering.
Shikuza settled onto a large, lifeless stone, the cold surface pressing against him as he studied the desolate land. He turned to the soldier beside him. "When do they appear?" he asked, his voice low and steady, carrying both curiosity and caution.
The soldier's eyes darkened as he replied, "They started emerging a few days ago, during the day… but yesterday, and even today, they have not come out in daylight. Perhaps only at night… or tomorrow… No one truly knows when this dimension will open again."
A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the distant whisper of the wind through the cursed landscape.
"We will return here again at night, without fail," Shikuza said, his gaze fixed on the darkening horizon.
The soldier spoke up, his tone cautious but firm. "It's almost evening. We should head back to the castle for now. Arrangements for your meals must have been made—you've traveled far. Eat something first, then we can return here later."
Keifer groaned, unable to hide his impatience. "Finally… this is what I've been waiting to hear!"
From behind, Sumin jabbed him sharply with his elbow, scolding him quietly. "No, no… that's not what I meant! Just… yes, yes… as you say," he muttered, his voice a mix of exasperation and playful teasing.
"Yes… we should be moving," Shikuza said, his voice steady.
Without another word, they turned and began to leave that cursed place behind. Yet, even as they walked away, a chilling feeling lingered in the air—an unseen presence watching them from the shadows, patient, silent… waiting for the right moment to strike.
Keifer groaned, breaking the tense silence. "I'm starving! They told us to rest before eating… and yet we're still waiting. The chefs of Drakos Kingdom… it's pure injustice!"
Shikuza let out a small, amused sigh, shifting the weight of his cloak and armor to ease the burden on his body. "You worry too much, my friend," he said, his voice calm but teasing. "Patience suits you better than hunger,my Commander."
Sumin sat down on the bed beside Shikuza, his voice soft and uneasy. "Shikuza… what if… what if they don't appear tonight either?"
Shikuza looked at him, calm and steady. "Then we stay a few more days. They won't leave until we see them," he said, trying to ease the worry.
Shikuza let out a long breath, his thoughts drifting. "You know… I've been thinking. The last time we saw these… ghosts, we were just children. And now, after all this time, we meet them again…"
Shikuza smirked lightly, teasing to lift the weight from his words, and Sumin exhaled slowly, his tension easing. His smile faded as he continued, his voice quieter but resolute. "Yes… I don't want what we saw back then to befall the children of our village today. I can't bear for them to lose everything, too."