Chapter 96

Once Mikhail confirmed Ethan was following, he turned forward again and pressed on.

Then, when the moment came to slide the route-setting slip into the stone pedestal—

Rustle.

He swapped the slip the attendant had given him for the one he'd brought himself.

Thunk.

The instant the slip vanished into the pedestal, Mikhail stepped briskly through the warp.

Ethan's footsteps trailed close behind as the world around them flooded white.

The air against his skin shifted into something utterly foreign.

The breeze grazing the tip of his nose carried a warmth unlike anything outside.

Ethan let out a faint groan and forced his heavy eyelids open.

"…Where is this."

The moment the words scraped out of his dry throat, Mikhail's voice reached him from the side.

"You're up?"

Ethan turned toward the sound.

His vision swam, still hazy and unsteady—but the dark blue hair falling past Mikhail's shoulders stood out sharp and clear.

"Mikhail… where are we?"

"Your head's going to feel like it's floating for a while. Give it time to adjust. Look around in the meantime."

Ethan managed a stiff nod and swept his gaze across the surroundings.

"……"

He couldn't gauge where they'd landed, or how deep they'd gone. They stood in the heart of a dense, sprawling forest with no point of reference in sight.

The undergrowth carpeting the ground swayed in two distinct bands—green on one side, violet on the other.

The trees encircling them were winter cotton blossoms.

They stood bathed in the warm sunlight of spring, yet atop each white bud sat a cap of heavy snow, perched like little hats.

Ethan watched clumps of snow tumble from the blossoms and let out a bewildered laugh.

"Winter cotton blossoms… blooming in spring. That's impossible."

"Under normal circumstances, sure."

Mikhail's reply came flat and even.

Ethan pulled his eyes from the round buds and looked at him.

Beneath that expressionless profile, a steady explanation followed.

"This is a world of extremes. Night and day. Spring and winter. Illusion and reality. Past and present. And… enemy and ally. Things that should never coexist—all gathered and woven together in one place."

Mikhail gazed down at the ground, where gentle sunlight rippled like curtains across the earth, and breathed out a wisp of white vapor.

"Let's get moving. Can you walk?"

Mikhail turned his eyes toward him as he asked. Ethan raised a hand, clenched and unclenched it once, then nodded.

He glanced over his shoulder to confirm the two swords on his back, then pushed himself to his feet.

Mikhail had already moved a few steps ahead, standing still with his gaze sweeping across the dense landscape. Those deep blue eyes traced a slow horizontal line through the foliage.

Ethan walked up beside him and asked.

"But… I don't see anything resembling a path. Where do we go from here?"

Rustle.

Rather than answer, Mikhail reached into the bag he'd brought.

What emerged was a single two-toned Crystal Wisp.

Flutter.

Released into the air, the Wisp seemed to waver and circle in place for a moment—then darted forward.

Mikhail followed its trail for a few steps before glancing back with a look that said come on.

Ethan gave a willing nod. He fell into step behind Mikhail, and after a moment, spoke up.

"So this is what you meant—about the two-toned Crystal Wisps being our guides."

Mikhail answered without looking back.

"Yeah. The two-toned Wisps are drawn toward the strongest concentration of foreign energy. Follow them, and they'll lead us to our destination."

Ethan hummed softly and watched the Wisp flutter onward ahead of them.

Its purple and green wings bobbed like little flags cheering them forward.

Roughly five minutes of walking later.

Pssshh.

The two-toned Crystal Wisp flashed once—then dissolved into particles, scattering into nothing.

Ethan watched it vanish with startled eyes, then turned to Mikhail.

Mikhail just shrugged.

"Don't worry. It's not dead. The energy here was too strong—it just reverted to its original form for a bit."

He rummaged through his bag again and released a fresh two-toned Crystal Wisp into the air.

Fluttering wings pointed the way once more. Their halted steps resumed.

"……"

The Crystal Wisps dissolved four more times after that. The fifth one was mid-flight when—

Pssshh.

Ethan stared at the scattering fragments of light, then slowly turned his head to take in the surroundings.

The landscape had transformed into something starkly different from where they'd started.

Rustle. Rustle.

Where the winter cotton blossoms had stood, broad-leafed trees now rose in their place—blue foliage dusted with flecks of gold.

From somewhere in the forest, which had been utterly silent before, came the faint sound of running water.

Ethan pulled his gaze from the scenery. Then he turned to Mikhail, who was already releasing the sixth Crystal Wisp, and asked.

"Are we really just walking forward? No enemies to watch out for? No terrain hazards?"

Mikhail paused briefly, then answered.

"Not the kind you're worried about. This stretch is closer to the mental and psychological side of things than anything physical."

"What?"

"So brace yourself. Don't let yourself get caught up in false hope."

Before Ethan could press further—

Mikhail locked his gaze on the Crystal Wisp and drifted after its swaying path.

Ethan watched him go, brow furrowing slightly, but followed all the same.

…One step. Then another.

With each stride they took, the landscape around them grew stranger still.

—Drip.

Something cold struck his cheek. Ethan grimaced and tilted his head back.

Beneath his feet, dark green undergrowth grew thick and wild.

Overhead, the leaves had deepened to a richer blue, their surfaces shedding flecks of gold light.

—Drip. Drip.

Now they were weeping drops of dark blue liquid, too.

Cold as ice. A blue-black fluid that made you flinch the instant it touched skin.

Ethan watched the droplets fall one by one, clicked his tongue in displeasure, and asked.

"Mikhail. What is all th—"

BZZT!

A sharp burst of static severed the question mid-word.

Ethan flinched and whipped his head forward. Mikhail still drifted ahead at his unhurried pace—but the space beyond him was erupting into chaos.

BZZZZZZZ….

A dark blue surge laced with golden specks came rolling in from the distance like a tidal wave.

The green ground, the pale hovering mist, the dense rows of black-trunked trees—all of it swallowed by the blue-black flood in an instant.

"!"

Every nerve snapped taut. Ethan bit down on his lip, seized the hilt on his back, and pushed forward.

If it meant to sweep him away, he'd hold his ground. Whatever this was, he had no intention of going down easy—

"—Ethan."

Mikhail spun around to face him.

Ethan flinched and froze. In the same beat, Mikhail closed the gap in long strides and reached out.

Grab.

Ethan stared at Mikhail, his left hand caught in the other boy's grip.

Mikhail stood with the surging current at his back, eyes sharper and clearer than Ethan had ever seen them, and spoke.

"Remember what I said."

He pressed a two-toned Crystal Wisp into Ethan's left hand. Then, in a voice that rang out bright and unmistakable, he continued.

"This is a world of extremes. Don't let what appears in front of you control you. And remember this—where you're headed, the only one there…"

Ethan stared straight ahead, eyes blown wide. Mikhail's figure was being swallowed by the encroaching blue-black tide.

Golden water-light bloomed across his cheeks one fleck at a time. The current lapped higher over their clasped hands.

"…is you. Alone."

The words layered over a memory from days ago.

The forest they'd entered chasing Crystal Wisps. In that place, Ethan had shattered a fear he'd carried for so long—and the words that had broken it through surfaced now, unbidden.

[—There's nobody here but you and me, Ethan.]

It lasted only an instant.

His vision drowned in black. His body lurched backward. Fading consciousness was swallowed whole by the rushing scenery.

The darkness that had consumed his sight thinned before long.

"Ha…. I knew it."

Mikhail clicked his tongue as he scanned the surroundings. The landscape had already shifted into something entirely new.

A Gothic manor corridor stretching on without end.

Beyond the tall glass windows, a single white cross-shaped star drifted serenely through an ash-colored sky.

The howling blizzard beyond the glass shrieked with a biting wind.

Whoooosh—

Mikhail tilted his head slightly.

He already knew the cause of the transformed scenery.

A place that everyone who enters the world of extremes must inevitably face. A point where the past that shaped the present is reconstructed and made manifest.

If anyone lingered here—shaken or captivated by the scenes laid before them—

They'd become trapped in this zone, unable to find their way back out.

"Hmm."

Mikhail turned his head forward, blinked a few times, then rummaged through the bag on his shoulder.

These don't seem like my own memories. Then these scenes must be connected to the original Mikhail—before I took over.

Flutter.

He released a two-toned Crystal Wisp into the air and followed in its wake.

His footsteps rang against the floor like marble, falling in neat rows down the silent corridor.

[…Oh, oh my.]

He'd gone perhaps fifteen paces when the blizzard rattling the windows began to die down.

From somewhere along the corridor's edges, voices started to seep through—one, then another.

[May, did you hear? About the young lord. Apparently he spent five hours talking to himself again today.]

[Oh, please. Did I hear? I saw it with my own eyes!]

Mikhail hummed under his breath and kept walking. The voices belonged to the Senit household's servants, by the sound of it.

[He was laughing like a madman, then suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs. After that, just mumbling things nobody could understand… I honestly thought I was going to die of fright. Do you think he's possessed or something?]

[Hey, shh! Possessed? What kind of thing is that to say about the young lord!]

[But—still! Even if it's not that, it's terrifying every time I go to tidy his room! He keeps asking for armloads of books from the archives, and the diagrams, the numbers… do you have any idea how much he's scrawled? Pages and pages, all covered in ink!]

Voices painting a portrait of the original Mikhail's past.

Mikhail blinked in silence, let a beat pass, then slowed his stride.

The words drifting through the corridor carried details he—as the one who'd taken over this body—had never known.

No harm in listening carefully while he had the chance.