Chapter 267: The Echo of Presence

The silence inside the carriage seemed endless, stretching like a dense fog that enveloped each occupant in their own isolation.

For several minutes, no one uttered a single word, their lips sealed by the experience they had shared.

Only the sound of the wind continued echoing along the road, accompanied by the irregular noise of the horses’ hooves, which, even weakened, maintained a steady rhythm.

Even these sounds seemed strangely distant, as if everyone inside the carriage were still trying to comprehend what had just happened, processing the magnitude of what they had witnessed.

Lukas remained seated, motionless, his body rigid against the wooden seat. His hands rested on his own knees, but his fingers remained slightly curled, as if they were still holding something invisible.

He could still feel that pressure, a physical memory that refused to disappear. Although the creature was already very far away, the memory of the sensation remained engraved in his body like a deep mark.

It was difficult to explain. It had not simply been fear, fear is an emotion that arises when someone recognizes a danger, a rational response to an understood threat.

That had been different, something more primitive, more fundamental. During that brief period when the creature’s presence had approached, Lukas’s body had simply understood that there was something there that existed on a completely different level from his own.

His instincts had screamed at him to lower his head, not to move, and not to draw attention. Even breathing had seemed dangerous, as if the simple act of expanding his lungs could attract the attention of that colossal existence.

Lukas slowly turned his face toward the window, his eyes traveling across the landscape passing outside. The trees were still there, apparently normal, their canopies swaying gently in the wind.

But he knew they were no longer the same. That forest had been crossed by something monstrous, something that defied any understanding he had of the world.

And, for several minutes, they had been close enough to feel its presence, to experience the weight of its existence.

Judite was sitting beside Aurora, her shoulders pressed against her mother’s in search of comfort. The girl remained with her arms wrapped around her own body, her fingers gripping the fabric of her clothes with such force that her knuckles had turned white.

Her face, normally so expressive and full of energy, was pale, her wide eyes fixed on a vague point in space. Even she, who usually turned any situation into an adventure, who always found words to fill any silence, could find no words for this.

Aurora held her daughter’s hand, her fingers intertwined with hers. She said nothing, merely squeezing her fingers from time to time, a silent gesture reminding the girl that she was there, that she was not alone. It was a quiet way of offering comfort when words were insufficient.

At the front of the carriage, Clavor remained seated in silence, his body motionless, his eyes fixed on the road stretching ahead. But his mind was far from there, traveling back to that moment, trying to reconstruct every second, every detail.

The crushing pressure that had descended upon them like an invisible weight. The absurd amount of mana emanating from the creature was so dense that it seemed to possess a physical presence. The gigantic silhouette above the trees, a form he could barely distinguish through the orange aura.

The sound of the footsteps, each one making the ground tremble as if the earth itself were bowing beneath its weight.

The creature had not even looked directly at them, not for a single moment. Its attention had been directed elsewhere, its path determined by some reason they could not comprehend.

And yet, that presence had almost made them faint, its mere existence being enough to temporarily incapacitate everyone present.

Clavor discreetly clenched his fingers, an unconscious gesture of tension. Throughout his entire life, he had faced powerful warriors, some of the best in the kingdom.

He had fought in wars, seen death up close countless times, and witnessed battles between experts who could destroy entire structures with a single attack.

But he had never felt anything like it. That was beyond his experience, far beyond, in a territory he had not known existed.

Another five minutes passed, each second an eternity of tense silence. It was only when Clavor was certain that the creature’s presence had completely disappeared, that its aura no longer pressed against his senses, that he finally relaxed his shoulders slightly, the tension in his muscles gradually diminishing.

He took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs with a clarity he had not felt since before the encounter. Then he opened the carriage door, his movements firm and decisive.

“Stay here.”

He climbed down, his feet touching the dirt ground with a dull impact. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Clavor realized that the surrounding scene was far worse than he had imagined, the extent of the creature’s impact revealing itself in all its severity.

The horses were lying on the ground, their robust bodies sprawled across the earth like fallen mountains. The two animals that had pulled the carriage for hours remained motionless on the ground, their flanks rising and falling with their breathing. They were alive, their bodies still moving, but completely unconscious, their minds overwhelmed by the pressure they had felt.

The coachman was kneeling beside them, his body hunched over as if he were praying. The man’s face had lost all color, pale as the full moon. He was breathing heavily, one hand pressed against his chest as if trying to calm his heart. A few steps away from him, there was an obvious trail of vomit, a silent testament to what his body had experienced.

Clavor did not judge him. He himself had felt nauseous, a wave of sickness that had risen from his stomach when the pressure intensified. The difference was that his training, years of discipline and combat, had allowed him to remain standing to maintain control over his body even when his instincts screamed at him to flee.

Farther ahead, the four guards were gathered in a small group, their figures still trembling from the shock. None of them appeared to be injured, their bodies intact, but all of them were sitting or kneeling on the ground, their strength exhausted. One of them had both hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, his labored breathing echoing through the silence. Another remained staring at the forest with wide eyes, as if still expecting to see the creature emerge from the shadows.

Clavor approached, his steps firm, his presence an anchor amid the chaos.