The air grew heavy.
Unnaturally heavy.
Like the world itself had suddenly become harder to breathe.
The hunters stopped moving.
Not by choice.
By force.
Their boots remained planted in the dirt.
Their weapons froze mid-motion.
Their bodies stiffened as an invisible pressure spread across the street.
Cold.
Dense.
Unforgiving.
At the center of it all—
Arin stood trembling.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
His small hands shook at his sides.
His eyes glowed with unstable silver light.
Fear filled him.
Not fear of the hunters.
Not fear of the fight.
Fear of himself.
Warmth spread through his body again.
Slow.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
The same warmth he had felt in the forest.
The same warmth that had nearly taken everything from him.
The knight saw it instantly.
And his heart dropped.
"No," he whispered.
He pushed past the hunters, forcing his way toward the boy.
Pain shot through his injured shoulder with every movement.
But he ignored it.
Because this danger was worse than swords.
Worse than enemies.
Worse than death.
This danger lived inside the child.
"Arin!" he shouted.
The boy did not answer.
His breathing grew uneven.
His body stiffened.
His vision blurred.
The pressure increased.
Windows rattled.
Doors trembled.
Loose stones rolled slowly across the ground.
Villagers began to gather at the edges of the street.
Confused.
Afraid.
Watching.
They felt it too.
That strange, suffocating weight pressing against their chests.
One woman dropped her basket.
Apples rolled across the dirt.
Unnoticed.
A man stumbled backward.
Struggling to breathe.
The leader of the hunters stared at the boy in disbelief.
His voice barely a whisper.
"This is the child…"
Fear flickered in his eyes.
Real fear.
The knight finally reached Arin.
He dropped to one knee beside him.
"Listen to me," he said firmly.
Arin's glowing eyes shifted slightly.
Barely.
"You must calm down," the knight continued.
"Focus on your breathing."
The words reached him.
Faint.
Distant.
But real.
Arin tried.
He really tried.
He inhaled slowly.
Air burned in his lungs.
He exhaled.
Weak.
Shaking.
But the power did not stop.
Instead—
It grew stronger.
The ground beneath their feet began to vibrate.
Small at first.
Then harder.
Then violent.
A deep cracking sound echoed through the street.
CRACK.
The stone beneath the hunters' boots fractured.
Splitting apart.
Breaking open.
Several men lost their balance.
Falling to one knee.
Weapons slipping from their hands.
The leader shouted:
"Fall back!"
But the order came too late.
The pressure surged again.
BOOM.
An invisible wave burst outward from Arin's body.
Violent.
Uncontrolled.
Devastating.
The hunters were thrown backward.
Their bodies slammed into walls.
Into carts.
Into the dirt.
Wood shattered.
Dust exploded into the air.
Shouts filled the night.
Then—
Silence.
Heavy.
Stunned.
Unbelievable.
The street looked different now.
Broken.
Cracked.
Scarred.
Villagers stood frozen in place.
Their eyes wide.
Their faces pale.
They stared at the boy.
Not with curiosity.
Not with confusion.
With fear.
The knight felt it immediately.
That change.
That shift.
The secret was gone.
The world had seen.
Arin's glowing eyes flickered weakly.
The light began to fade.
Slowly.
Unsteadily.
His body swayed.
The knight reached forward instantly.
Catching him before he collapsed.
The boy felt weightless.
Cold.
Empty.
A thin line of blood slid slowly from his nose again.
The knight's chest tightened.
He understood the truth.
Every time the power awakened—
It took something from him.
Strength.
Energy.
Life.
He held the boy tightly.
Protectively.
Desperately.
The hunters slowly pushed themselves up from the ground.
Bruised.
Shaken.
Terrified.
None of them attacked.
Not anymore.
They stared at the child.
As if looking at a storm.
A disaster.
A force of nature.
The leader wiped dust from his face.
His voice hoarse.
Unsteady.
"Retreat," he ordered.
The word shocked everyone.
Even his own men.
But they obeyed.
Immediately.
Because survival mattered more than pride.
The hunters began to withdraw.
Step by step.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Never turning their backs.
The leader stopped once more.
Just before leaving the village.
He looked directly at the knight.
Then at the boy.
His voice was quiet.
But filled with certainty.
"We will return."
The promise hung in the air.
Cold.
Unavoidable.
Then—
The hunters disappeared into the darkness.
Silence settled over Grey Hollow.
Heavy.
Broken.
Changed.
The villagers stared at Arin.
Whispering.
Murmuring.
Afraid.
The knight understood immediately.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
He looked down at the unconscious boy in his arms.
His voice barely a whisper.
"Our time here is over."
And far away—
Deep inside a fortress hidden beyond the mountains—
A messenger dropped to one knee before a shadowed throne.
His voice trembled.
"My lord…"
He swallowed hard.
"The Null Core has awakened in the open."