ch 39

Chapter 39: The Eyes in the Mist

Greenrest was no longer peaceful.

At first, it was the animals. Birds that no longer sang. Wolves that howled in the daytime. Then the fields—once golden and full—began to wither at the edges. Not from lack of care, but as if something watched the roots beneath.

And now, the lights.

Elric sat by his window the entire night. The twelve glowing dots had stayed in the woods for hours, unmoving. Watching.

By morning, they were gone.

But the trees had shifted. Subtly. Quietly.

Too quietly.

Breakfast in the Wyvern household was usually chaotic. Wooden bowls clattered, spoons spilled, and someone always fought over the last sweet bun.

But today was... quieter.

Even Elric's younger sister, Lily, who usually spoke nonstop, just picked at her food.

"Papa's letter hasn't come," she said quietly.

Their older brother, Juno, tried to smile. "Maybe he's just in a place where the birds can't fly. You know how it is—jungles, storms…"

Elric's spoon paused midair.

He remembered the letter from their father. It had stopped arriving half a year ago.

And now the forest was changing.

Were they connected?

Their grandfather walked in, his steps slow, but solid as always. His cane tapped the floor rhythmically, each step steady as a drumbeat.

He looked at them all, then rested a hand on Elric's shoulder.

"Come with me," he said. "Now."

They walked toward the edge of Greenrest. Past the stone shrine. Past the last fence post.

Into the older part of the forest.

Elric had never gone here before. No one did.

Not because it was forbidden.

But because the trees felt… wrong.

Older. Taller. A little too quiet.

His grandfather finally stopped near a moss-covered boulder, shaped like a curled beast.

He tapped it three times with his cane.

Thock. Thock. Thock.

The stone shimmered—and vanished.

Revealing stairs.

"Elric," his grandfather said, his voice lower now, "you need to know the truth."

The stairs led deep into the dark. Carved walls lined with faint blue lights guided them downward.

"About what?"

"The Shepherds," his grandfather said. "And the war that never ended."

The tunnel opened into a wide chamber.

Inside stood old murals, faded and cracked. Strange beasts of every shape and size danced across the stone. But all knelt before a figure.

A child.

Just like the one Elric had seen in the vision.

"That's him," Elric whispered.

His grandfather nodded. "The First Shepherd. Your true predecessor."

"You knew him?"

"No," his grandfather said, "but my mentor did. And his mentor before that."

He walked over to the wall and traced one of the symbols. A three-ringed circle with a jagged scar across it.

"This mark was seen long ago. When the first dungeon rose beneath Greenrest. The world believed it was a miracle. A natural wonder."

"But it wasn't."

"No," he said. "It was a prison."

Elric's heart pounded. "For what?"

His grandfather didn't answer at first. He stepped aside and pointed to a sealed door behind the murals. A faint hum came from behind it.

"For whatever the First Shepherd left behind."

They sat in silence for a while. Elric studied the murals. Each one showed the First Shepherd fighting alongside strange creatures—some made of bones, some of vines, some of molten stone.

They weren't tamed.

They weren't commanded.

They were connected.

"Is that what I'm supposed to do?" Elric asked. "Build an army like him?"

His grandfather placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"No. You're not meant to be him. You're meant to surpass him."

Elric looked up, surprised.

"You see," the old man continued, "the world has changed. The balance of power is weaker. The systems are stronger. But they're not gods."

"What do you mean?"

His grandfather looked at the glowing walls.

"You're not just growing a pack. You're growing a force. One that this world, and the others it touches, can't ignore."

Later, when they returned to the surface, Elric found his pack waiting outside the door like loyal sentinels.

Rocky rumbled softly, standing tall behind a bush. Hiss curled around Elric's ankle and flicked its tongue. Melo bloomed slightly in greeting.

"Sorry for the wait," Elric said. "We've got a lot to do."

The fog had grown thicker. He noticed now that even the birds avoided the center of the sky.

Something was pushing down on the village.

Elric glanced at the System's menu.

[System Menu]

— Pack Members: 3

— Bond Depth: Moderate

— Summoning Skill: Golem of the Grove – Dormant

— Dungeon Detection: High Activity

— Nearby Echo Signature: Fluctuating

Caution: Anomaly awakening in 3.9 days

Anomaly?

He looked around the village.

No one else could see the countdown.

Only him.

Only the Shepherd.

That evening, Elric helped his mother in the kitchen.

It was strange—he didn't have to help anymore. His status in the village had grown. Some people bowed when he passed. Others whispered.

But here, at home, he was just Elric.

"Pass me the salt, sweetie."

"Here."

She paused. "You've been... quiet."

Elric didn't answer immediately. Then he said, "What happens if something bad happens to the village?"

She looked at him softly. "Then we hold hands. And we stand strong. Like your father did. Like your grandfather did. Like you will."

He smiled.

And for a moment, the weight lifted.

That night, Elric returned to the edge of the woods.

The eyes were back.

Only this time, there were more.

Dozens.

Fifty? A hundred?

Shapes shifted behind the mist. Some on four legs. Others… crawling.

They hadn't attacked.

Not yet.

But he knew.

They would.

Not for food.

Not for territory.

But for him.

The last Shepherd.