Chapter 248: Chapter 248: THE CAVERN & THE CROSSROADS

​Morning in the valley arrived draped in a thin veil of mist that clung to the base of the hills. The sun had only just begun to peek over the horizon, yet Rianor was already standing firm in front of the inn. He was busy calibrating his equipment. Whirr... the mana fluctuation gauge hummed softly as he activated it. He checked his crystal lantern, ensuring the fuel was topped off, before slipping a notebook into his coat pocket with an efficiency that was ingrained in his very soul.

​Roland emerged from the inn, fumbling with the cuffs of his shirt. His eyes were slightly bloodshot—a side effect of last night’s local ale, which turned out to have a much stronger kick than he had anticipated. Hah... he let out a long yawn, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess.

​"You ready?" Roland asked, his voice raspy.

​Rianor glanced at him briefly without pausing his work. "You should still be curled up in bed."

​"Tsk. You’re heading into a mysterious cave that supposedly swallows people whole, and you think I could sleep soundly?" Roland grabbed a leftover piece of bread from breakfast and bit into it aggressively. "I’m coming."

​Rianor let out a short sigh. "Don’t touch anything."

​"That line again... You’ve been saying that since I was a toddler," Roland grumbled.

​"That’s because you’ve always had a habit of touching things that are best left alone."

​Dom and Orva were already waiting by the horses. Dom remained his usual self—frozen like a statue, hand never far from his sword hilt. Meanwhile, Orva was busy prepping ropes and spare lanterns, her eyes gleaming with a curiosity that clearly outweighed her fear.

​"The two of you will stand guard at the entrance," Rianor instructed.

​"I am going inside," Dom cut in. It wasn’t a request. It was an absolute statement, leaving no room for negotiation.

​Rianor remained silent—a sign he didn’t have the energy to argue with the most stubborn guard in his service.

​The journey to the northern hill took only half an hour, but the terrain was challenging. The path, which might have been well-trodden once, had long been swallowed by thorny brambles and wild grass. The fresh morning air began to shift as they climbed. A strange sensation crawled across their skin—like thousands of invisible eyes watching from behind the pine trees.

​The cave mouth was cleverly hidden behind a thicket of overgrown shrubs. From the crevice, a dim blue glow emanated softly, creating a haunting contrast against the surrounding green moss. Rianor narrowed his eyes.

​"Mana crystals," he murmured. "Naturally occurring."

​"You mean this cave has its own power source?" Roland asked, peering inside.

​"Let’s find out."

​They entered. Their footsteps echoed softly against the damp stone floor. Dom led the way, Rianor followed in the middle with his clicking gauge, and Roland brought up the rear, occasionally wiping cold sweat from his brow. The cave walls were encrusted with small crystals that pulsed like frozen fireflies.

​The deeper they ventured, the larger the crystals became. Some grew along the ceiling like glowing veins. The air inside felt warmer, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.

​"Mana fluctuations are spiking," Rianor reported, his eyes fixed on the indicator needle. "But the pattern is stable. No signs of an active threat."

​"Hmph. For a place that’s supposed to be haunted, this view is actually quite stunning," Roland remarked, catching his reflection in a large crystal.

​"Beauty is often a trap for the unwary."

​"Yes, yes, I know. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment."

​Their pace slowed as the tunnel widened into a massive chamber resembling a crystal cathedral. In the center of the dazzling blue brilliance, a grim sight awaited in a dark corner.

​A human skeleton.

​The bones were intact, curled in a fetal position on the cold stone floor. Tattered remnants of blue fabric, now faded to a dull brown, clung to the remains. One hand was stretched forward, fingers splayed as if trying to reach for something unattainable in its final moments.

​Near the skeletal fingertips lay a small silver locket. Beside it was a neatly folded, yellowed piece of paper, preserved from the dampness by the natural protection of the crystals.

​Rianor knelt slowly. He didn’t touch the bones, merely observing them with an unreadable expression. Carefully, he picked up the locket and the letter.

​"Who was she?" Roland asked, his voice now hushed and respectful.

​Rianor unfolded the paper. The ink was faded but still legible to a trained eye. He read it in a stifling silence.

​"...Liria," Rianor whispered finally. "Her name was Liria."

​He paused before continuing. "She came here looking for her husband, a missing miner. She got trapped, Roland. Not by rocks or black magic, but because these crystals absorbed her emotional residue as she died. Starvation... or perhaps the cold."

​Rianor touched the crystal surface beside him. "Every night, when the temperature drops and these crystals release their energy, the memory of Liria’s voice is released with it. The sobs, the screams, the whispers... it all replays like an eternal recording. The villagers weren’t seeing ghosts; they were hearing the echo of a woman who died alone and in despair."

​Roland fell silent. He looked at the skeleton, imagining poor Liria spending her final breaths in the heart of this blue beauty, calling out a name that would never answer.

​"So... it was all just mana resonance?"

​"Technically, yes. But to those who hear it, it’s a wound that never heals." Rianor stood up, tucking the locket into his pocket.

​Back in the village, the atmosphere in the inn turned abruptly solemn as Rianor placed the locket before Harald. The village head’s hands shook violently. As he read the worn letter, tears slowly carved paths through his wrinkled cheeks.

​"Liria..." he sobbed softly. "She was my oldest friend’s daughter. We thought she had left for another town out of heartbreak... we never knew she never left us."

​"The cave is not cursed, Master Harald," Rianor said, his tone softer than usual. "The echoes will fade in time now that the energy source has been identified. Let her have a proper rest."

​Harald looked at Rianor as if seeing a savior. "Thank you... at least now we have closure."

​As they walked back to the carriage, Roland nudged his brother playfully. "Surprisingly, you didn’t give the old man a long lecture on frequency refraction."

​Rianor just stared straight ahead. "They needed peace, not a science lecture."

​Roland grinned. "Wow. You’re actually starting to look like a diplomat, Rianor."

​"Don’t get ahead of yourself. That’s your job."

​The carriage began to move, leaving behind the small valley that now felt a little lighter. The echoes of the weeping might still remain, but they no longer brought fear—only a memory.

​The Night Before, in Iron Hearth.

​The savory aroma of grilled chicken satay and steaming oxtail soup filled the castle’s dining hall. The long table was alive with laughter and the clinking of silverware. Lucian looked composed at the head of the table, while Aurelia was busy keeping an eye on Kaelven, who was currently trying to use his spoon as a catapult.

​"I want to go to the Beast-kin Khanate," Rhea said suddenly in between bites.

​Clang. Riven, who was cutting his meat, accidentally dropped his knife. The table went silent—not out of shock, but because everyone knew that when Rhea spoke like that, the decision was already final.

​"Go how, dear?" Aurelia asked gently, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

​"A vacation. Not a mission, not state business. Just a trip."

​Arvid, sitting beside her, nearly choked. He turned sharply to his wife. "Wait, this is the first I’m hearing of this?"

​"Because I only just thought of it while combing my hair," Rhea replied casually.

​"What? You just thought of it and now you’re announcing it?" Arvid looked at Lucian for moral support, but his father-in-law was busy pretending to be engrossed in his tea.

​"The Khanate is far, Rhea," Riven chimed in. "It’s a few days of overland travel."

​"I know. That’s why I’m taking Arvid and Ana."

​Arvid opened his mouth, then closed it again like a goldfish. "You do realize that usually, a husband and wife discuss travel plans before announcing them to the entire family?"

​"I am discussing it now, aren’t I?" Rhea gave him a flat look that would usually make an enemy tremble, but Arvid only saw the mischievous glint in her eyes.

​"That’s called a unilateral declaration, not a discussion," Arvid grumbled in resignation.

​Aurelia let out a soft laugh. "You’ll like it there, Rhea. The grasslands are endless, and the people... well, they are very spirited."

​Rumina looked up from the financial ledgers she carried everywhere, even to meals. "I’ll prep the budget. But please, Sister, don’t bring back a lion or a bear as a pet for Ana."

​"I make no promises," Rhea replied coldly, making the whole table erupt in laughter again.

​Later that night in their room, Arvid was busy packing baby clothes into a large bag. "Are you really sure about this? A long trip with a baby?"

​Rhea stood by the window, gazing at the moon hanging over the Iron Hearth skyline. "I just want to see the world through a different set of eyes, Arvid."

​Arvid paused, looking at his wife’s back. She seemed more relaxed lately. He sighed, then smiled. "Alright. Then we leave tomorrow morning."

​Rhea turned, and for a moment, a genuine, soft smile graced her face—a smile that proved the decision was, indeed, the right one.