They had spent hours inside the sanctuary when Rosin Karat and the others finally returned, confirming what they feared: the storm outside raged as fiercely as ever, but the barrier within the cave held strong, a flawless defense against the chaotic world beyond.
"What about the records? Did you find anything?" Rosin asked, glancing at Ery.
Ery hesitated. He began by revealing that the cave’s intricate barrier formation had been built by an elder figure of the Celestial Race.
"There’s more to read... but so far, nothing about how to escape this realm."
Kaelyn gave a solemn nod, her expression grim. "Sa on my end."
The truth hit the group hard.
Soltz, already pale, lost what composure he had left. "Hahaha... So we’re stuck here!? Damn it! I never should’ve co! I’m gonna die in this cursed place!"
Rosin remained calm, his focus shifting to Vayarel—the spatial expert—who had been quietly attempting to open a gate this entire ti. Despite his efforts, he had nothing to show for it.
Vayarel’s voice was resolute. "I haven’t given up. I believe once the storm passes, I’ll have a much better chance."
It was then that Talaro stirred. The dark elf opened his eyes and rose smoothly from his ditation. His eyes flicked toward Vayarel. "I recognize you... Vayarel, the Magnetic Weaver. I truly hope you’re as powerful as they say." The sarcasm in his tone was subtle but sharp.
He added, "The storm will last three days. Then, after two days of calm, it will begin again. That’s the cycle." With that, he returned to his seated position, the cosmic fla flickering faintly in his palms as he folded back into ditation.
It was then that Vayarel, as a fellow spatial expert, recognized the dark elf’s true identity—Talaro Malik, a High Priest of the Void Stalker Order. The realization hit hard: this dark elf might be a better expert than he was.
Ery was restless. Three days. That was all the ti he had. He couldn’t afford a delay.
Rosin Karat took it upon himself to support Vayarel’s recovery, while the dark Ery turned inward, continuing to seek answers through the power of Khaos.
The rest of the group focused on the mory crystals, reading what they could. Only Soltz lay sprawled out in one corner, eyes dull as he drank from a flask retrieved from his storage ring, slipping deeper into despair.
Ery forced himself to stay focused. Another day had passed.
By now, he had deciphered more than half the mory crystals. But instead of hope, all he found were echoes of despair. The deeper he read, the heavier the weight in his chest beca.
Most of the record ended with the sa bleak story—experts of terrifying power trapped like animals. Desperation, frustration, and fear. So devolved into wild theories and reckless suggestions. Others ended abruptly, mid-thought, as if the writer had simply... vanished. Ery could feel their final monts; so had likely self-destructed, others fell into madness, and a few... perhaps worse.
He exhaled sharply and stepped away from the cluster of crystals. His mind kept returning to Earth... to his friends waiting for him. Waiting for him to return and fight the duel against Kronos.
He couldn’t afford to fail.
He stepped away from the mory crystal and approached Talaro.
The dark elf glanced at him with a mocking smile. "Found a solution yet?... Haha—of course not."
Ery felt irritation rise. The dark elf was far too casual for soone trapped much longer than him. He had to be hiding sothing. Narrowing his eyes, Ery demanded, "You said I’m the key to getting you out of this place. Tell how."
Talaro rose slowly, brushing off his robes with deliberate ease. "Those poor souls... The Supres, powerful as they may be, their strength ans little in this realm. But us?" He paused, looking Ery dead in the eyes. "We have sothing they don’t. Not just anything... him. The master of space. He is our salvation."
Ery remained silent, gaze hardening. "How? ....What do you want?"
The dark elf smiled, satisfied. "Good. Finally—the right question."
With a confident step closer, Talaro continued, "It’s simple. I know how to combine Khaos gates. You give yours, and with both powers, I’ll open a path for all of us."
Ery scoffed. There’s no way he would trust his life and the others to the dark elf words. Eyes sharp, he added. "I have a much better solution... why don’t you give yours?"
Talaro let out a slow, amused chuckle. "Ha! Planning to rally the others and take it by force? Forget it!. Even if the Supres were willing to betray his oath... I won’t sit idle. I’ll destroy my gate before letting you take it."
"You’re bluffing!" Ery snapped. "Your life or the gate... which one matters more?"
"I don’t care if you believe ," Talaro said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Try . Or... we wait. But I’m not the one in a hurry."
Ery clenched his jaw. The dark elf was sharp—he saw right through Ery’s anxiety.
Talaro smirked, adding, "Besides... I’m a Grand Magus. My strength gives us a much higher chance of success than yours. I’m sure your friends would agree."
Ery exhaled deeply, but not in defeat. He simply turned and walked away—not because he was giving up, but because he had realized sothing important.
Talaro still didn’t know that he had also stepped into the Grand Magus realm.
Returning to the mory crystals, Ery resud his search for answers, already devising a plan of his own.
On the third day, as Talaro had said, the storm began to weaken. The unnatural winds outside their shelter slowly faded, and the oppressive pressure lifted.
One by one, the group stepped out from the cave.
Veyarel, fully recovered now, stepped forward with his eyes closed and arms raised, his focus entirely on the spell he was preparing. Everyone stood still, watching with tense anticipation.
The true escape attempt was about to begin.
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