Max's tone didn't change. "I'm splitting off."
It was calm. Steady. Like he was just going for a walk.
Grey took a step forward. "You're walking back into that? Are you mad?! You saw what happened! That fog—"
"I know what happened," Max interrupted, his eyes sharp now. "But my decision's made."
Grey's brow furrowed deeply. "That place isn't normal. You think just because you survived it once, you can do it again?"
Max shrugged. "I'm not here to survive. I'm here to finish what I ca for."
The statent caught Grey off guard. He didn't know what that ant, but the weight behind Max's words made his chest feel tight.
Max didn't wait for a response.
He looked out across the hazy land ahead—into the very sa fog that had devoured a genius before their eyes. But this ti, he wasn't afraid.
Because he could feel it. A faint, unmistakable sensation.
His bloodline. Burning in the distance.
Alice.
Sowhere in the Mourning Depths, she was alive. The vial she carried—his blood, his black fla—was still pulsing.
Still calling back to him.
And he would find her.
Before Grey could say another word, a soft but stern voice ca from the side.
"You'll die if you go alone." Amara's eyes t Max's. "You should reconsider."
Max turned to her slowly. There was a calmness in his gaze, but also sothing else—determination.
"I appreciate your concern," he said. "But I won't die. I know what I'm doing."
Amara didn't press further. She only frowned, clearly unsettled, but said nothing more.
Just then, another voice echoed in Max's mind—gentle, anxious.
"Max, what are you doing? Leader told us to stay together. To watch each other's backs."
It was Callie. Her vital essence transmission was filled with worry.
He turned his head slightly and looked at her.
She stood a few feet behind him, her white mask concealing her face. But he could feel the emotion behind it.
"I know," Max said softly. "But I have to do this."
He gestured lightly toward Old Man Grey.
"You'll be safe with him. Trust . He'll get you to the 1500-mile zone."
Callie didn't respond imdiately.
She lowered her head slightly, fists tightening beneath her robe. Her heart told her to stop him. To say sothing—anything—to make him stay.
But… she couldn't.
Not with the way he looked. Not with the quiet fire in his voice.
In the end, she only nodded.
"Don't die," she said, barely above a whisper.
Max gave her a small smile.
"I won't."
And then—
Without another glance back,
Without hesitation,
Without fear—
He turned.
And walked straight back into the black fog.
Max didn't hesitate.
Didn't pause.
Didn't even glance over his shoulder.
Old Man Grey's words drifted behind him, laced with warning, but also a sliver of resignation.
"Max, since you are planning to head alone then do so. But know that whatever happens to you… will not be blad on my Divine Palace."
Max just gave a simple nod. His voice was calm. Steady.
"I know. It's my decision. So anything that happens to … will be my fault."
No dramatic exit. No last words.
He turned away—
And stepped into the fog.
The mont he crossed the threshold, the world changed.
Sound disappeared.
Light dimd.
The warmth of the others… gone in an instant.
The fog wrapped around him like a shroud. Soft at first—like drifting smoke—
But with every step, it thickened. Grew heavy. Dense. Wet.
It began to press in from all sides, clinging to his clothes, coiling around his skin.
His boots crunched over brittle ground.
Bone dust. Maybe worse.
The air buzzed with sothing ancient. Sothing sick.
Infernal energy.
It filled the air like static. Vivid. Hungry. Alive.
Max lowered his presence to the bare minimum—his aura sealed so tightly not even a ripple leaked out. His heart slowed. His breathing turned shallow. He beca a shadow within the shadow.
"Max, first pretend you're not its enemy…"
Blob's voice was steady. Cautious.
"I'll find its core. We only have one chance. One. If we miss… it'll never fall for the sa trick again."
Max didn't reply—he didn't need to.
He simply gave the slightest nod.
He understood everything.
This wasn't a fight.
It was a hunt. A delicate one.
And this ti—he wasn't the predator.
Not yet.
According to Blob, Sinful Bone Fras didn't linger near the surface.
They slept.
Buried thousands of feet underground, their wills dormant for centuries.
But the mont they sensed a vulnerable soul walking too close…
They rose.
And they hunted.
It was only during that mont—when they surfaced, searching for prey—
that they were exposed.
That was his window.
His only window.
Once they vanished again, it would take days… weeks… lifetis…
to lure them back out.
And in this fog-choked death field of the Mourning Depths,
Max didn't have a lifeti.
—
So he played the fool.
He moved like he was lost. Confused.
Stumbled now and then. Slowed down.
Sotis he sped up… sotis paused.
Like prey.
He kept his soul force dimd, buried deep.
He let the pressure build. Let it wrap around him like vines.
—
Then—
A sound.
Soft. Floating. Ancient.
A woman's voice, whispering through the mist.
"Lonely… I'm so lonely… co down and play with …"
It wasn't loud.
It didn't echo.
It just existed. Everywhere. Nowhere.
A lullaby spoken by a ghost.
Max stopped walking.
His foot hovered over the earth for half a second.
His breath caught.
Then—
A faint gleam lit his eyes.
It ca.
The Sinful Bone Fra was here.
Max's mind went cold.
The mont the song echoed through the fog, he felt it.
Not just the lody—
But the pull.
It slithered through his ears.
Crept down his spine.
And reached for his soul.
But unlike last ti…
He didn't panic.
His mind remained still.
Calm.
He could feel the structure of the song this ti.
Could taste the thread of will woven beneath its sweetness.
It was elegant… but deadly.
A trap made of lody.
It didn't aim to kill him directly.
No, it was much more dangerous than that.
It sought to open a door—
One that led into the Soul Palace.
The mont his soul responded to it…
That door opened.
And the hunter stepped through.
If soone had no understanding of soul constructs—no awareness of will—
they wouldn't even realize what was happening.
They'd simply be enchanted.
Wander in blindly.
And then… they'd never return.
—
Max blinked once—
and the world changed.
The choking fog, the gray light, the sll of death—
Gone.
Now, he stood in a vast, lush wilderness.
Erald grass danced in the wind.
The sky above was a flawless blue, with soft clouds floating lazily across it.
Wildflowers blood in every direction.
There was no killing intent here.
Just peace.
And warmth.
The sudden shift jarred his senses.
Even knowing it was fake—his breath still hitched.
His mind tried to anchor itself. Tried to find a crack in this illusion.
But then—
A soft voice broke the silence.
"Stay with … Follow …"
He turned.
And froze.
Standing before him… was Alice.
Her long, fiery red skirt swayed in the wind.
Her red hair shimred under the golden sun.
Her expression was soft. Eyes filled with longing.
It was her.
Sa voice. Sa presence. Sa warmth.
The illusion was flawless.
Too flawless.
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