A Gorgeous White - Chapter 329: Through Darkness, There's Light

The Trees of Thundrei were known for their massive forms. Their crowns were vast, enshrouding the forests of their home. It was believed that before human life came to be, the forest was the dwellings of woodland deities. Thousands of magical plant species covered the earth beneath the shades of the woods. The land was mysterious and elegant, yet they were dangerous for many creatures dwelled within it—creatures who would protect the trees with their lives.

Currently, Moulin was walking beneath these trees. It was already a miracle that they were venturing through it without hundreds of malibreeds trailing behind them in hunger. Delicate fingertips caressed the tips of the dark green leaves of a plant as he passed. Moulin’s eyes slightly squinted as he shifted his attention away to scan the area around them.

He had gone through this forest before when they were visiting Thundralln. At first sight, Moulin was enthralled by their magnificence. The towering trees surrounded them like the legs of a thousand giants. Sunshine beamed through the scattered cracks from the leaves, shining down on them. Moulin remembered their warmth and comfort.

But as he looked at the land now, he could only feel as if death was walking beside him, patting his back, leading him deeper into the forest until the ground would swallow him.

Him and the group were walking hurriedly, fearing that something horrifying might emerge and attack them. The men looked at their surroundings warily, noticing the strangeness of the plants around them as they walked.

Moulin furrowed his brows when he saw three glowing dots hiding within a dark crevice under tree roots following his figure. However, it didn’t attack him. This only made Moulin when more anxious. Why?

Suddenly, Hadrian, who was walking in front of Moulin, raised his hand in a signal. The men abruptly stopped, eyeing their surroundings cautiously. Their hearts pounded erratically. The silence around them was almost… suffocating.

Moulin looked at Hadrian, resisting the urge to ask. The man bent his head as he neared a group of big stalks clustered around one of Thundrei’s trees. His hands reached out to stroke a particular scratch against the plant’s body. It was a single clean cut, not one of those jagged scratches an animal would make. This one looked as if a sharp blade had cut it.

Emlen drew near the Lord and stared at the gash. After a moment, he spoke. “It could be an animal…”

“Or it was him…” Said Hadrian as he turned away, surveying the area. He caught a few other plants, destroyed as if a horde of beats trampled them. The big rocks resting against Thundrei’s trees were crushed and shattered as if something big had been pounding it.

Moulin was confused at first, but then he remembered. Indeed, they were looking for the dragon crystal that would repair the city’s core. The last pathfinder team had recovered the stone. Unfortunately, it was lost… along with the pathfinder captain.

“If we could use our mana, this would be easier.” Malyana sighed. A hiss sounded from within her sleeve. Harow agreed with her.

“Let’s keep moving…” Emlen affirmed.

They continued through the broad paths of the forest. It was as if they were venturing through an endless maze. There were times, they could hear whispers or the beastly cries of creatures and malibreeds from afar. Yet, they hadn’t encountered even a single one so far.

The strangeness was getting into Moulin’s brain. Obviously, there was something wrong…

After a few hours, they spotted three more, particularly neat cuts. By their fourth one, Hadrian then knew they weren’t just slashes from a blade, but trail markers to mark the way so one couldn’t get lost.

“It might be the captain… ” Jagra muttered as he stepped over a tree root protruding from the ground.

“It could be…” Ghana said while assessing the area behind the team for any creatures following them. “Or it might be someone else.”

A while later, the group no longer found any trail markers. It seems the person who made it didn’t finish it.

Not long after, Emlen’s eyes widened. He bent down on the ground, picking up something and examining it. In the next second, he hurried to Hadrian and Moulin, presenting the object on his palm-a bronze medallion embellishing the symbol of Helios.

“He was here…” Uttered Hadrian as he took the medallion from Emlen’s hand. “Let’s keep looking…”

One of the men stepped forward, “But, My Lord. The trail had ended long ago… perhaps he’s not here anymore.”

While they were discussing, silver eyes drifted towards an earthen ridge. The ground appeared as if it was rising like a sea wave. Like a deity was pinching its highest point upwards only to release it accidentally. Something tells Moulin that there was something hidden past it.

Feeling inquisitive, Moulin slowly separated from the group and headed towards the ridge. Below him, tiny Insects scattered away from his steps. Within his satchel, a certain little fox poked out its snout through the gap of the cover. Snow’s silver eyes blinked. He shook off the cover and glanced at his master.

Moulin’s boot stopped inches away from the edge of the ridge. A few rocks were knocked over by his foot, and they rolled down the steep side of the ridge, sprinkling dust on their way down.

Moulin’s figure stood at the edge. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Moulin…” Hadrian’s voice entered his ears.

The men stopped talking, and they turned to their Lord while glancing around for the white-headed maeruthan. Hadrian eyed Moulin’s desolate figure. He ignored the men and made his way towards the aphrodite.

Curious and questioning, the men moved towards where the Lord and his lover were.

Hadrian reached the edge of the ridge and stood by Moulin. When his gaze lowered towards the land at the end of the slope, his eyes deepened.

One of Thundrei’s trees stood like a gigantic pillar reaching the heavens. Beneath it was its roots, bundle into coiled and twists. The dark green masses are winded into giant knots. It appeared like a tangled mess, unable to unfurl. It looked as if it was enclosing around something, concealing something precious within.

There was a split at the bottom of the tangled roots—a triangular opening presenting a pitch-black interior. It was big enough for a human to enter. The rest of the ground was a vast rocky surface of grey, devoid of any vegetation.

Moulin felt the cold wind.

From the distance, there was a tiny flash before the opening of the roots. Something shiny was twinkling.

Moulin wanted to check it out, but Emlen beat him into it. It turns out the rest of the men were standing near the ridge, starting at the horrific bundle of roots. Watching his brother sliding down the slope, leaving trails of dust behind his heels, Moulin drew his brows in worry.

Emlen jumped before he could reach the edge, and he turned back to gaze at the people on top of the ridge. After reassuring his brother with a look, he whirled around and headed towards the massive structure of tangled roots.

It didn’t take him long to reach the shiny object. After assessing that the place was safe, he gestured his comrades to come down.

Raising his eyebrows, Emlen bent down pulled out the thing that was stuck between a tiny crevice between ~the rocks, a step away before the entrance of this unknown structure. With a sharp sound, he dislodged it and brought the object near his eyes.

The rest of the people had already come down from elevated land and began to scrutinize the daring-looking structure before them. It is like a hill or a dome of thick coiling olive roots. Even if it was still, it appeared as if it was moving like a snake wringing the life out of its prey, squeezing it dry of its soul. What was inside, they wondered?

Moulin went to his brother, peeking at the object within his hand.

It was a dagger. The edge was so thin; it looked as if it could cut through bone.

Another clue, Moulin thought. Then, glancing at the large caved entrance of the structure before them, he could not help but anticipate what they were going to do next.

A hand grasped the youth’s shoulder. Moulin didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The weight and pressure of it alone was enough. Moulin glanced at the dagger again. He could not help… but think this was all a trap… To lure them in.

“Perhaps, he’s inside.” Tessley, who passed Moulin, spoke. The twins behind her didn’t even want to take another step towards the dark and ominous entrance.

“Is he even alive?” One of the men spoke anxiously.

Emlen turned to them. “Alive or not, we will retrieve the core crystal.”

The men slightly hesitated but thinking that they wouldn’t be able to save their beloved city aroused determination in their eyes. They all turned to the indifferent golden-eyed Lord, awaiting his command.

Hadrian didn’t even blink and spoke. “We enter.”

Those words alone crushed the hesitation in their hearts. In a heartbeat, they advanced, gathering their wits and gripping their souls. Moulin didn’t refuse it. He welcomed the order. But if it weren’t for the unsettling feeling planted in the depths of his chest, he wouldn’t be so hesitant at first.

One after the other, they all entered the entrance. Emlen gripped the hilt of his sword, and in the other hand, he held the lost dagger. They were within a tunnel, going deeper and never stopping. The faint light behind them grew smaller and smaller, and the darkness seemed to swallow them whole, chewing their souls. Heartbeat pounded.

Clack! PSH!

The sound of a flint strike caught the attention of most. A spark appeared, and then a flame grew. Torches, Moulin realized. Hadrian held one in his hand, keeping Moulin close. The light was shared, and now there were ten who carried torches, lighting up the way. However, they were ready to extinguish the flames if necessary.

Just when Moulin thought the tunnel was endless, the sound of a water drop echoed. Like a droplet hanging from a stalactite and falling into a small puddle beneath. But even that sound alone caused the men to grab their weapons in caution instantly. Moulin wasn’t an exception.

Suddenly, Hadrian raised his hand. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He felt wind…

He and Moulin exchanged glances before they decided to investigate. In such an enclosed space. How could there be wind?

Suddenly, there were corners. The passageway no longer led them straight forward. There were turns that they took warily. Cobblestone, Moulin recognize, have formed beneath their feet. His surprise grew when he realized stone bricks had appeared in the walls gradually. But he didn’t have time to mull over them in curiosity.

It wasn’t just a structure formed by masses of gigantic tree roots, but within it was a building. They were entering a building, a temple, perhaps? Moulin didn’t know. The men started questioning.

Then they slowed down. Paused their steps and stared ahead. The sound of droplets was louder. Caressing the moisten walls was green moss. You’re wondering how they could see it?

There was light.

It wasn’t dim like usual dreary skies that haunted the atmosphere for several years. It was yellow and warm akin to pure daylight in the middle of the morning. Soothing, desired, and wonderful. How the people have missed basking within it. Unfortunately, daylight hasn’t shined upon the land for so many years.

So what was this?

‘Closer…’

Moulin flinched. A clear whisper entered his ear.