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94.09% Dark Moon: Rise of The Dark King / Chapter 542: Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 307. Blurry Image I

Chapter 542: Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 307. Blurry Image I

Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 307. Blurry Image I

Once Lady Belle exited the room and the door closed behind her, Angel immediately took the bracelet out from his blazer. He looked at it for a moment, its intricate design and colorful gems reflecting the dim light of the room. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the faint magic flow he had sensed earlier. He needed to understand it better, to decipher its true nature.

The magic flow was faint, almost imperceptible, like a whisper on the wind. Angel could feel it, but just barely. It took all his concentration to tune into the subtle energy emanating from the bracelet. He knew that in this world, there were only two types of magic flow: light and dark. Identifying which type this was would be crucial.

He concentrated. Angel's brow furrowed with effort. The faint magic flow was elusive, slipping through his mental grasp like water through his fingers. He focused harder, blocking out all other distractions, feeling the ebb and flow of the magic within the bracelet. It was weak, almost like a dying ember, but it was undeniably there.

It had been a hard half-hour, filled with intense concentration and a fervent hope that the bracelet would reveal something—anything—useful. Angel had prayed in his heart, hoping for a clue, a hint of the bracelet's true origins or purpose. His patience was wearing thin when he finally felt a shift, a subtle change in the faint magic flow. It was as if a door had cracked open, just enough to let a sliver of light through.

He focused harder, his breath steadying as he attuned himself to the delicate magic. There was something there, a whisper of familiarity that resonated with him. The magic flow felt eerily similar to something he had sensed before, something intimately connected to him. And then, an image began to form in his mind's eye, blurry and indistinct at first, but gradually gaining some clarity.

The image was of a woman. Her features were shrouded in mist, her face obscured by a haze that he couldn't pierce. Yet, he could see her figure, running frantically through a dense forest. Her movements were desperate, filled with a sense of urgency. Angel's heart pounded as he watched the scene unfold, feeling her panic as if it were his own.

Behind her loomed a high cliff, its jagged edges stretching out towards the sky. The landscape was unfamiliar to him, a place he was certain he had never seen or been to before. The forest was dense, the trees towering and ancient, their branches intertwining to form a canopy that blocked out most of the light. The woman stumbled, glancing over her shoulder as if she were being pursued, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Angel tried to focus on her face, to glean some detail that might help him identify her. But the image remained stubbornly blurry, her features hidden as though she were a ghost. He could feel her fear, her desperation, and it tore at him. What was she running from? And why did this magic flow feel so familiar?

One thing for sure, he felt a strange connection to her. It was as if their fates were intertwined in some inexplicable way.

Angel opened his eyes and gasped silently, the image of the woman fleeing through the forest still vivid in his mind. "Is that the Erebus Mountains?" he murmured to himself, the realization dawning on him slowly. He wasn't entirely sure, but the landscape matched the descriptions he had heard growing up.

The Erebus Mountains were a place of dark legend and deep-seated fear. His father had always told him to stay away from that place, and it wasn't just his father; it was a warning that echoed through generations. Commoners, royals, and nobles alike avoided the Erebus Mountains. The region was shrouded in mystery, its treacherous peaks and dense forests reputed to be haunted by ancient evils and forgotten curses.

Most kingdoms that bordered the Erebus Mountains had built fences or established boundaries to prevent anyone from venturing too close. The fear was so ingrained that these boundaries were heavily guarded, and the penalties for crossing them were severe. It was a universally acknowledged rule that if someone was lost in those mountains, no official rescue would be mounted. The person would be considered dead, swallowed by the cursed land.

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