MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 112: ANCHOR AND OBSERVER

Chapter 112 — ANCHOR AND OBSERVER

Night settled differently inside the walls of Ruinsand.

The desert beyond howled.

The interior hummed.

From the outside, the kingdom was a fortress of stone cutting through endless sand. From within, it was layered—regulated air currents, controlled lighting, fountain systems whispering quietly in the distance.

Long Hao stood alone in his assigned dorm room.

The window overlooked the inner district. Lantern lights traced the roads below in warm golden lines. The great wall rose beyond the buildings, dark against the moonlit dunes.

He exhaled slowly.

Then closed his eyes.

The Eclipse System flickered to life.

Not violently.

Not like before.

A steady interface unfolded across his vision.

[CORE SYSTEM ONLINE — 100%]

For the first time since the displacement—

The loading bar vanished.

A pulse moved through his chest.

Stable.

Controlled.

"Longyu," he called inwardly.

Silence—

Then—

A breath.

Not audible.

Felt.

"...You’re alive."

Her voice wasn’t the playful, sharp tone he was used to.

It was lower.

Calibrating.

"I never died," she replied quietly.

There was a brief glitch in her tone.

"You were severed."

He didn’t move.

"Explain."

The system display shifted.

Not the usual stat panel.

Not the usual unsealing interface.

Instead, a map projection appeared.

Ruinsand Kingdom.

A faint pulse glowed beneath it.

Deep underground.

[PRIMARY ANCHOR DETECTED]

Long Hao’s gaze sharpened.

"Anchor?"

"Yes."

Her voice stabilized slightly.

"You were not teleported randomly."

He remained silent.

"You were pulled."

The map zoomed inward.

Beneath the guild headquarters.

Beneath the city grid.

Far below the foundation.

A pulsing core.

Ancient.

Buried.

"What is it?" he asked.

"...Unknown."

The word carried weight.

Longyu did not like unknowns.

"I detected interference during the tournament ceremony," she continued. "External manipulation synchronized with your Eclipse signature."

His jaw tightened slightly.

"So someone triggered it."

"Yes."

"And brought me here."

"Yes."

The map flickered again.

[LOCATION LOCKED: RUINSAND KINGDOM][PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: UNKNOWN]

A second notification appeared.

[ANCHOR FREQUENCY MATCH: 27%]

Long Hao’s eyes narrowed.

"That frequency."

"It resonates with your sealed core."

That made him pause.

Longyu’s tone softened slightly.

"This place is not accidental."

He looked toward the wall outside his window.

The desert wind slammed faintly against the stone.

"What is the anchor?" he asked again.

"I do not know."

A pause.

"But it is ancient."

The pulse beneath the guild headquarters intensified briefly.

Then stabilized.

"You are connected to it."

Long Hao did not answer immediately.

Longyu continued, "I cannot yet determine if the anchor is a weapon, a seal, or a living entity."

He exhaled slowly.

"Can it detect me?"

"...It already did."

Silence filled the room.

The map faded.

The interface minimized.

Longyu’s voice lowered further.

"You are not lost."

He looked at his reflection faintly visible in the window glass.

"I know."

—

Elsewhere in the tower—

Zehell stood on the upper balcony overlooking the interior training floor.

Below, night-shift hunters practiced silently under dim lighting.

She leaned lightly against the railing.

Watching.

Not the floor.

Not the trainees.

But the corridor that led to the dorm quarters.

She had watched Long Hao during the evaluation.

She had watched him during the meal.

She had watched him during training.

He did not fidget.

He did not overcompensate.

He did not speak more than necessary.

Most new recruits in Ruinsand did one of three things:

Boast.

Panic.

Or freeze.

He did none.

His movements were efficient.

But more importantly—

He never wasted breath.

When Toma tested him, he did not attempt dominance.

He did not display pride.

He measured.

He redirected.

Zehell’s fingers tightened slightly on the balcony railing.

She replayed the handshake in her mind.

The brief contact.

There had been no aggressive aura spike.

No overwhelming presence.

But something else.

Density.

Like compressed space held carefully beneath calm surface.

She exhaled slowly.

"Memory loss," she murmured.

It didn’t sit comfortably.

But neither did suspicion.

She pushed away from the railing and began walking toward the dorm corridor.

If he was hiding something—

She would see it eventually.

She stopped outside his door.

Didn’t knock.

Didn’t open.

Just stood there briefly.

Listening.

Nothing.

No pacing.

No restless movement.

She turned away quietly.

—

Inside the room, Long Hao opened his eyes.

He had felt the faint shift outside the door.

Zehell.

He didn’t move.

Longyu spoke again softly.

"She is observing you."

"I know."

"She is not hostile."

"I know."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"No."

Longyu was quiet for several seconds.

"You are calmer than expected."

He looked at the faint reflection of the wall beyond.

"Panic wastes energy."

She almost sounded amused.

"You haven’t changed."

He did not respond.

The system interface flickered once more.

A new line appeared.

[ANCHOR PROXIMITY STABLE][DEEPER ACCESS REQUIRES CONTACT]

Long Hao’s gaze sharpened.

"Contact?"

"Yes."

"With what?"

Longyu paused.

"The anchor."

He exhaled slowly.

"So it’s below the guild."

"Yes."

"And I need to reach it."

"Yes."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"Be careful," she said quietly.

He looked toward the door.

"I always am."

—

Zehell stopped at the far end of the corridor.

She turned slightly, glancing back toward Long Hao’s door.

Then she looked down at her spear.

The silver lines along its shaft glowed faintly in response to her touch.

Control.

Balance.

Discipline.

She had built her strength from repetition and structure.

But Long Hao—

He did not move like someone rebuilding.

He moved like someone restraining.

She didn’t like unknown variables inside her squad.

But she also didn’t like wasted potential.

Tomorrow, they would patrol.

Sector Three again.

If he was hiding something—

The desert would reveal it.

She turned and walked back toward her own quarters.

Outside, the moon rose higher over Ruinsand, pale light washing over the stone walls and spilling into the quiet avenues below. Patrol lanterns shifted as hunters rotated posts. The desert wind struck the outer barrier again—steady, patient.

Far beneath the guild headquarters—

Something ancient pulsed once.

Not violently.

Not loudly.

But deliberately.

A slow, measured thrum that did not belong to stone, sand, or kingdom.

It felt aware.

In his room, Long Hao opened his eyes fully.

Calm.

Awake.

Connected.

And for the first time since arriving in Ruinsand—

He felt something beneath him watching back.

[Chapter ENDS]