The Anomaly's Path

Elisabeth von Noctis moved through the shadows like they were part of her, her silver-white hair barely visible in the dim light. Her deep violet eyes were fixed on the candidates stumbling through the trees ahead. Her sword was in her hand, dark with dried blood.

She had stopped killing them hours ago.

It wasn’t that she cared. She told herself that firmly, again and again, with every blow she pulled, every strike that landed flat instead of with the sharp edge. She didn’t care about these candidates. They were strangers.

Many of them would have died in her past life anyway, and the world had not mourned them.

But she wasn’t a monster.

And they were just kids. Kids with families, dreams, and plans for futures that might never come.

She disarmed another purple-eyed candidate with a flick of her wrist, her blood mana pulsing through her veins, and sent him crashing into a tree. He slumped to the ground, unconscious but alive.

This is the fourth wave, she thought, her chest heaving from exhaustion. How many are there? How many has that thing already claimed?

She was tired. Her arms ached, her legs felt heavy, and her mana reserves were lower than she wanted. She had been fighting for hours, moving through the forest like a phantom, trying to put distance between herself and the purple glow.

These candidates kept coming wave after wave, relentless and tireless. Every single one of them had those same eyes — a sickening, unnatural violet glow that seemed to pulse with something ancient and hungry.

It’s like they’re under some kind of hex, she thought, watching a candidate push himself up from the dirt with shaking arms, his violet eyes already tracking her again. Like something is forcing them to fight, even when their bodies are screaming to stop.

She put him down with a clean strike to the temple, and he crumpled.

Looking down at the unconscious boy at her feet, she saw his face was pale beneath the dirt and sweat. There were dried tear tracks on his cheeks from before the corruption had taken him.

He didn’t want to fight, she realized. He was crying. That thing made him.

Her jaw tightened.

Behind her, a booming laugh shattered the silence. Elisabeth’s eye twitched as she turned.

Roan Sol-Valis stood in the center of a pile of groaning candidates, his spear resting on his shoulder. He was grinning — wide, wild, and utterly insufferable.

She had found the elf wandering alone days ago.

He had been standing in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by the bodies of a dozen monsters, his silver hair untouched, his crystal-tipped spear resting on his shoulder like he didn’t have a care in the world.

His storm-silver eyes had found her immediately, tracking her through the shadows like he had known she was there all along.

She had almost killed him on instinct.

”Easy there, vampire,” he had said, grinning. ”I’m on your side. Probably.”

She had lowered her blade, but only because killing a prince of the Elf Domain would have caused more problems than it solved. Not because she trusted him.

She didn’t trust anyone in this timeline.

But he was strong. And in a valley full of monsters and corrupted candidates, strength was the only currency that mattered.

They had been traveling together ever since. Not as allies but more like two predators who had agreed to tolerate each other until the hunt was over.

”Having fun, vampire?” he called.

Elisabeth’s jaw tightened. ”We’re not supposed to kill them.”

Roan looked down at the candidates around him. They were groaning, clutching broken limbs, scrambling away from him on their hands and knees. A few were already unconscious, their bodies limp among the roots and fallen leaves.

”Look closer, princess,” he said, tapping his chin with mock thoughtfulness. ”They’re breathing. Every single one of them. I didn’t kill anyone. I just... encouraged them to take a nap.”

”You broke their arms, bastard!”

”They’ll heal. Eventually.”

Elisabeth walked past him without a word and crouched beside one of the unconscious candidates. Her fingers pressed against his temple, her blood mana seeping into his skin to read the corruption embedded in his core.

The purple glow was deep. Wrapped around his soul like a parasite. Feeding on something — his fear? His grief? His loneliness?

She had seen something like this before.

No, she thought, pulling her hand back. Not like this.

In her past life, the corruption had been different and slower. It had spread through the borderlands over years, not days. It had turned soldiers against soldiers, villages against villages, but it had never moved this fast. Never been this aggressive.

Something has changed.

The timeline is accelerating.

She stood up and looked toward the east, toward the ruins where the purple glow was brightest, where the mana in the air was thick enough to taste.

The Statue of Unforgotten Sorrow...?

Her eyes widened.

Shit.

If that thing was already awake, then they were in more danger than she thought. In her past life, it didn’t emerge until the war, after the seals had already begun to crack. But here, it was active now, claiming candidates before they had even become soldiers.

The question is why.

What changed?

What woke it up early?

She thought of white hair and hollow eyes. Of a boy who should have died in his trial but had emerged alive.

Leo von Celestial.

Is he the reason the timeline is breaking? Or is he just a symptom of something larger? Or maybe it was because of both of us.

She didn’t have time to find out.

”Vampire? Elisabeth? Hello? Anyone home?”

Roan was waving a hand in front of her face, his grin replaced by a look of mild concern. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. Her violet eyes burned into his storm-silver ones.

”We’re moving,” she said.

Roan blinked. ”Huh? What? Where?”

”East. Toward the ruins.”

She let go of his collar and started walking. Roan followed, his spear still on his shoulder, his expression curious. ”Why the sudden urgency? I thought you wanted to avoid the ruins?”

”The candidates who attacked us aren’t working alone,” Elisabeth said, not slowing down. ”Something is controlling them and it’s coming from the ruins.”

Roan’s grin faded. ”How do you know that?”

Elisabeth didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. How could she explain that she had seen this before in another life? That she had watched the Statue of Unforgotten Sorrow corrupt entire armies, that she had fought its puppets on a dozen battlefields, that she had lost friends to its weeping gaze?

”...I just know,” she said. ”Trust me.”

Roan was quiet for a moment. Then he shrugged. ”Fine. But if we die, I’m haunting you.”

”Perfect. Getting haunted by a manic elf is the last thing I wanted.”

They moved through the forest in silence.

Elisabeth led the way, her blood mana stretched thin around her, sensing every presence, every heartbeat, every flicker of corruption in the trees. Roan followed a few steps behind, his spear ready, his eyes scanning the shadows for threats.

The purple glow grew brighter as they approached the eastern ruins. The mana in the air grew thicker, heavier, pressing against Elisabeth’s skin like a second layer of clothing.

She felt it in her chest — a dull ache, like the echo of an old wound.

The Statue of Unforgotten Sorrow.

We’re getting close.

If the statue was already active, then everyone in the valley was in danger. Not just the candidates. The survivors. The ones who were still fighting.

We need to find the others.

We need to stop this before it spreads.

They kept moving.

_

Unknown to Elisabeth and Roan, another massive group was also moving toward the eastern ruins.

Arthur Vale walked through the forest with his hand on his sword, his golden eyes scanning the shadows. His shirt was torn and stained, but his posture was steady and his breathing calm.

Beside him, Nyra moved like a ghost, her beastkin senses stretched thin, her ears twitching at every sound.

They had been together for two days now.

Arthur had found her cornered by a group of corrupted candidates, her claws bloody and her amber eyes wild. He had knocked out the candidates without hesitation and offered her his hand. She had taken it because she had no one else.

But they weren’t alone anymore.

Stretching out behind them was a small army of over three hundred candidates. Arthur had spent the last forty-eight hours rescuing every sane student he could find, pulling them out of the purple fog before the hex could take them.

Elves, dwarves, beastkin, and humans walked side by side in a tight, defensive formation. They were terrified, exhausted, and running low on mana, but they followed Arthur because his bright light was the only thing keeping the darkness away.

Now they walked in a heavy, tense silence, a massive faction bound by survival, heading directly toward the pulsing purple glow.

Arthur didn’t know what awaited them deep in the ruins. He didn’t know why the exam had turned into a war zone, or why a strange monster was haunting them.

But he knew one thing for certain.

Leo was up ahead.

And wherever Leo went, absolute chaos followed.

_

Author’s Note:

I know this Chapter was short. Well, mainly because I’m busy today, and you could read my announcement on the Discord if you want to know more.

Anyway, tomorrow I’ll upload 2 or maybe 3 Chapters. The arc is reaching its climax, and it will end soon.

Now is the time to pick up the pace and end it.