Chapter 242: The Years That Passed

A brief silence filled the area. Only the calm whispers of the forests could be heard. 

Moulin blinked, and his shoulders relaxed. Hands raised slowly, entering his sight. Moulin looked at them in shock and confusion. It was the first time his mana casted on its own without his guidance. A maeruthan's mana wasn't spontaneous. Aside from the protection and the effects it caused on the owner's body, it was still and submissive unless the maeruthan wields it.

Silver pupils quivered. What is happening to his body? 

He breathes slowly. Suddenly, his vision began to blurry. Blotches of black gradually filled his sight. His body swayed with dizziness. This time there wasn't the presence of warm hands that used to catch his falling body. This time, he fell hopelessly on the snow.

The darkness then claimed Moulin. The last thing he heard was heavy footsteps hurrying towards him.

..........

..........

The thick distinct smell of something putrid and steak filled his nostrils. Something was burning. It smelled uncomfortably familiar. It brought memories—the flash of burning blood-red flowers. The flames crackled sinisterly. Massive pillars of smoke rose towards an invisible wall—a barrier enclosing all. Black corrupt energy engulfing all that is pure. Not even the spiritual temples could cleanse it.

But amidst the destruction, the chaos... a single blue flower remained untouched and pure. It glowed gently, warmly. A sense of longing then washed his soul.

'...-re you?'

A voice resounded within the darkness of his mind. Deep and familiar.

'-where... are you?'

That deep familiar voice was growing clearer and more evident as though nearing his ears. He sounded desperate, laced with ever-growing despair. And yet, something deep and dark lurked within his voice. 

'Moulin...'

This time, he recognized it. Moulin felt his soul tremble. As though there was something warm embracing him the moment the word was spoken. The voice of the man he longed so much. 

'Please... come back to me...'

Snap!

"Hadrian!

Moulin abruptly opened his eyes and rose. Chest rising and lowering rapidly as he breathes. When his vision finally adjusted, he froze, eyes darting around. He didn't recognize the place he was currently residing.

Furs and animal pelts filled the floor he was sleeping on and fabric draped down the ceiling. A colorful light filled the room even though there was only one lamp that illuminated it. Perhaps it was because the gauze-like cloth filtered the light around him. The equipment lying around didn't look primitive, unlike the room he was in. The room looked more like a cavern... 

"Done sleeping?" A voice made the youth stopped. 

Moulin turned his head to witness a beautiful woman entering, parting the partitions. Her sapphire eyes dazzled extravagantly against the dim light. Her skin was fair, and her hair was a pretty pale blue. The youth stared at her expressionlessly.

The woman chuckled, "The incense must have been effective on you..."

"Where am I?" Moulin asked, watching her pick up the clay bowl from the floor. His eyes noticed her webbed hands. There was only one race that he knew, which possessed such features. 'Merfolk...' He thought. 

"You're resting in one of our caves..." She answered with a smile as she shed down the furred coat she wore. A strip of fabric was wrapped around her chest, and Moulin turned away, embarrassed. His reaction only made the woman giggle.

'How cute...' She thought.

"Cave..." Moulin furrowed his brows. "You're dwelling in caves?" He observed his surroundings. "Why?" 

When the words escaped his mouth, the woman froze.

Her hands gripped the bowl tightly, and she spoke in a low voice. "You really don't know why? I believe the reason is too easy to guess, guest." She turned with a wistful smile, "Come. Our chief wants to meet you."

Moulin then recalled the group of people that he had encountered back in the lake. Ah, so it was those people that took him in...

Without out further questions, Moulin slowly rose from his bed and followed the woman out of the room. He almost stopped in his tracks when his surroundings entered his eyes.

The warm light of the lamps was exquisitely reflected on his eyes. Caverns of different sizes served as the homes of the people around him. He felt like he was walking in an underground village. Small lamps were placed on protruding rocks just below the curved rocky ceiling, making it look like the place was some inn.

Awed at sight, he didn't realize the curious gazes directed to him. The woman beckoned him to follow, and Moulin took a few seconds to admire the place before trailing after her. As they walked, he glanced at a few giggling children running past him, casting Moulin bright glances. 

Moulin smiled, and a thought emerged in his mind. "Why are your people residing within caves?" Moulin asked. 

The woman released a heavy sigh before replying. "You really don't know, do you? Several years ago, our home in the oceans and rivers was overwhelmed by malibreeds. We were once a prosperous kingdom until the overgrowth of malibreeds began to overtake our oceans and seas, and we were forced to live on land. We cannot go back..."

Moulin was half confused and shocked. Malibreeds? What sort of creatures are those? He hasn't heard of anything like it. If it was such a dominant species, how come this was the first time he had heard of it?

"We are here..." She finally gestured towards a concealed cavern. Moulin hesitantly glanced at her before entering through the curtains. 

There were the endless sounds of murmurs, but when Moulin entered, it stopped instantly. Moulin scanned the area. The cavern was spacious enough to fit twenty people. Presently, there were a few merfolk inside the cavern. They surrounded a vast round stone table. Their figures seemed to freeze at the sight of Moulin. One eye-catching fellow, more taller and bulkier than the rest rose from his seat, staring at the youth.

"You're awake. Are you well?" He waved his hand to dismiss his people. The men lowered their heads to their leader before leaving. They didn't forget to glance at Moulin on their way out. If Moulin wasn't mistaken, he felt like they were staring at him too eagerly, eyes filled with infinite respect. Perhaps, it was just his imagination.

"Come! Sit wherever you like." 

The chief, Moulin guessed, offered. However, the youth only stared at him. 

With a sigh, the chieftain only smiled. 'I believe he's still wary of us, strangers. Of course, it isn't surprising...'

"You must have a lot of questions." He started.

"I don't believe you will be able to answer any of it.." Moulin furrowed his brows. 

The man nodded in understanding. "Well, I believe I am the wrong person to be giving you answers as well. However, I do have some to ask of you." He nodded and gestured to one of the stone seats. "But first, have a seat..." 

Knitting his brows, there was a hint of hesitation in the youth's silver eyes. However, he complied and occupied one of the seats. "Tell me..."

The man lowered his eyes with a satisfied nod. 

He began. "What are you?"

"A maeruthan," Moulin answered unhesitantly. 

A deep chuckle escaped the man's mouth. His forehead wrinkled. "Ah, yes. I am well aware of that, little one."

"You do?"

"Mn, I know well of your kind." The man raised his chin.  "However, the maeruthans I know nowadays are vile, ambitious people. I had to cut up a few of them, for they refused to lay off their hands on my people." 

A crease appeared between Moulin's brows. "..."

'Nowadays?'

"But you..." The chief's smile slightly fell. A severe yet gentle expression etched his face. "Before the cave fell, my people and I had ventured it. You see, we were searching for a new home. At first, the cave seemed to be a good choice. Well, if it wasn't for the blood-freezing cold. Before we left... We saw you..."

"What?" Moulin raised his brows. 

"Specifically, we saw you you come into being. The ice stitched you up. Built you, a real live body. You were lying on the cold ground. We thought you were dead. My men were terrified. But when we saw your chest rise and lower, we knew you were alive." He tapped his fingers on the table. 

"But we could not go near you. Something was forbidding us from approaching. The mana that composed it was nothing like I have ever seen. It was pure, untainted. Ever since the Kron first plagued the lands, most desolate places were always contaminated by the kron and swarmed by malibreeds. However, your cave is like a safe haven. Too pure for a black heart to even step foot."

Moulin heart pounded inside his chest as he listened to the man's words. He lets out a scoff of disbelief.

The words 'for years' entered his mind.

His brows knitted in confusion. Heart thundering in anticipation. How much time had really passed?

"I'm sorry, but didn't the kron just started?"

The man stopped. "... What do you mean? It has been eight years since the beginning of the Kron."

Moulin froze. 

He paled. It was as if a bucket of water was poured over his head. 

E-Eight... eight years?

Eight years had passed?

That... long? 

Moulin abruptly stood up from his seat and held his head. His eyes wide and disbelief filled his face. No, it can't be... that many years...

He thought he'd be gone for a year or two. His last rebirth was much quicker. Does it mean... that in his third death, he'd return even longer? 

The faces of the people he holds dear in his heart flashed before his eyes. His father, his brothers, his friends, Snow, Kier...

"Hadrian..." Moulin lets out a stuttering breath. 

What happened to them? How are they? What happened to the world when he was gone?!

"Calm down..." The chief stood up from his seat and spoke comfortingly to the youth, wearing an expression of shock and disbelief. 

Moulin stiffened. He stopped. The man couldn't determine the youth's expression, for Moulin was facing away from him. He could only wait.

"What happened during these past eight years? Please tell me..."

Although he was uncertain and confused about the youth's question, he only answered. "They said a cure for the Kron was supposed to be released. However, it could not be done. Not anymore. There are people. Vicious sinister beings suddenly emerged and began conquering lands with their numbers. The cure created came from Meian, the land of the elves. Those people... " The man sighed, "Destroyed the country, every elven born, every man and woman were hunted. Other races came to help, but against these people, they..." he shook his head.

"Afterwards, without a cure. The Kron began to spread and evolve. It wasn't just the people that got infected. The lands, the water, and the animals... they were not spared. Some of the living turned into hideous, hungry creatures craving mana. We call them Malibreeds, and they had roamed the land ever since. For years, me and my people had hidden, and the other races weren't the less hopeless... " 

Moulin breathed sharply. His pupils quivered. "I... I have to go back..."

"Where will you go?" The chief asked in concern. "You cannot go now. You're in a terrible state. Although I understand your power and strength, you have just awakened. You have no control over your mana."

Moulin's fingers trembled as he shook his head. "No, I have to go... home."

Fear gripped his heart. He knew very well the people the man was referring to. Malefics...

Worthless vicious rats that took his mother's life and destroyed his home! 

The Kron... it was their doing. These changes...

Moulin clenched his fists.

What about the sentinels? Did they fall too? 

Dread filled his eyes. He didn't want to accept it. A pang of terrible guilt and fear flooded his heart endlessly. He was terrified of the answers...

With a sigh, the chief fished something from the pouch lying on the rug of the floor. "If you want to leave, I will not stop you. It seems you are afflicted. Here..." he handed Moulin something that dangled on his fingers.

Slowly, Moulin turned his head and stopped. 

An Ice blue crystal necklace. 

His mother's soul. 

As though an explosion occurred inside him, Moulin's expression changed significantly. He scrambled towards the man and took the necklace into his hands. With trembling eyes, he gripped it tightly. 

The chief was surprised by the young man's sudden actions, but then gentleness filled his eyes. "We found it in the rubble. We, as merfolk, possessed the ability to sense spirits, be it animal or not. That necklace... seems to hold a person's dormant spirit. Are they important to you?"

Moulin pressed his lips together and nodded. He was pushing the necklace on his chest somewhat strongly. 

"Thank you... thank you..."

The man smiled, "You saved my son's life. I am indebted to you. Tomorrow, if you wish, I will aid you in your departure. I'll have everything you need prepared. But first... you must rest today..."

Moulin lifted his moist eyes. Knuckles were turning white. Whatever happens, he will find his way back to them, to the people he loves. He refuses to lose another person.

With a stifled breath, he nodded.