So this is it... the source. The tree pulsed again, and the ground beneath his feet trembled faintly. Erik could feel its hunger, its will invasive, alive. The creatures were merely extensions, vessels born of those roots. With a steady breath, he extended his hand. His will surged through his domain, bending its reality to his command. From the mana, an invisible sword formed, pure formless intent given edge. The air hummed with tension as the blade took shape, and with a single motion of his hand, Erik brought it down. Google seaʀᴄh 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⁂𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⁂𝙣𝙚𝙩 The sword cleaved through the crimson roots. A blinding ripple tore through the domain, followed by silence so deep it felt absolute. The threads connecting the creatures to the tree snapped, and immediately, Erik sensed the difference. The oppressive vitality that had radiated from them, the constant pulse of false life was gone. Their bodies collapsed, still and empty, no longer struggling to rise. But before relief could take hold, Erik felt it. A vast gaze old, cold, and distant fell upon him. It wasn’t sight in the mortal sense, but an awareness that brushed against his very soul. The domain trembled as that unseen presence glanced through the veil, observing him, weighing him... and then, as suddenly as it appeared, it withdrew. The shadow of the blood-red tree faded, dissolving like mist in sunlight. Erik exhaled slowly, his muscles taut. Whatever that presence was, it was powerful enough to pierce into his domain and yet it had chosen not to act. With a snap of his fingers, flames burst forth, roaring across the battlefield. They swirled around the fallen creatures, engulfing them completely. The fire was not ordinary; it was a purifying blaze, born from his will and domain, consuming not only flesh but essence. When the flames subsided, nothing remained but scorched earth. Then, something unexpected drew his attention. The weaponsthe trident, the sword of frost, and the others began to shimmer. Their solid forms broke down, melting into glistening pools of water that soaked into the soil, leaving behind only faint puddles that reflected the sky. Erik watched in silence. Were they ever real? With the threat gone, he let his domain recede. The ethereal forest dissolved, giving way once more to the devastated battlefield. He stood amidst the aftermath, the mountains cleaved in half by his and the creatures strikes, a frozen monolith jutting from the earth, a vast body of water formed from melted ice, and a deep ravine tearing across the land. The destruction was immense. Moreover, Erik could feel it multiple presences stirring at the edges of his awareness. Countless unseen eyes now turned toward the scarred land. His battle had not gone unnoticed. Neighboring kingdoms, watchful spirits, perhaps even the gods themselves all had felt the tremors of his clash. He exhaled slowly, the weight of realization pressing against his chest. There will be questions, he thought grimly. And consequences. There was no concealing what had occurred here. The land itself bore witness the sundered mountain, the frozen monoliths, the lake that had not existed an hour ago. The world would remember this battle, whether he wished it or not. With a quiet sigh, Erik lifted his spear, its tip glinting faintly in the aftermath’s haze. He stepped into the air and, with a burst of power, propelled himself skyward. The sound barrier shattered around him, releasing a thunderous boom that sent ripples of wind sweeping across the battlefield. The scorched ground and the lingering ash below scattered beneath the gust, as if trying to erase the traces of what had transpired. High above the earth, Erik hovered in silence, the cold wind whipping at his cloak. His mind turned inward. He needed time to think, to reflect, to understand what this fight had revealed about himself, and about his kingdom. As he soared through the sky, one thought refused to leave him. The one who had come to him moments before this, her presence calm yet unsettling, her words veiled in meaning he hadn’t yet grasped. He had dismissed much of what she said then because of her look and charm but now, in the wake of this battle, her recent presence echoed with new weight. His gaze drifted toward the distant horizon as the memory replayed in his mind. Then he remembered the puddles of water left behind where the weapons had once been, the same clear, reflective shimmer that had lingered after her departure. Erik’s expression darkened, the wind whipping harder around him. So it was her, he realized. She’s tied to this. The realization chilled him more than the high-altitude air. He didn’t yet understand her purpose, whether she was an ally, manipulator, or something far worse but one thing was certain: this encounter was not coincidence. As Erik had expected, there were indeed many eyes watching. Across the lands, the rulers and scholars of neighboring kingdoms had turned their attention toward him and his realm. His recent battle had been felt far beyond his borders, the shattering echoes of shockwave, the surge of distorted magic, and the ominous silence that followed. To them, Erik and his people were no longer a distant curiosity; they had become a threat that could not be ignored. Yet, despite their unease, none dared act, not yet. Erik’s strength was one reason. His reputation as both warrior and sovereign was legendary, his power vast enough to turn entire armies to ash. But there was another reason, more insidious and fearsome: the curse. Few truly understood the nature of curses, and fewer still could defend against them. Those who had studied the phenomenon knew enough to be afraid. To wage war against a king leading millions of cursed beings was not merely to risk defeat, it was to risk corruption. Before a single blade could meet Erik’s forces, the enemy’s soldiers would already begin to rot from within, their spirits corroded, their humanity consumed. The taint would spread like wildfire through the ranks, and in the end, all they would achieve was strengthening Erik himself. Thus, his kingdom was isolated, not conquered, but contained. A cursed territory best left untouched. Few dared cross its borders, and those who did were made sure not to leave again. The very air around Erik’s realm seemed heavy, distorted, whispering to those who approached it. Even the bravest soldiers hesitated when faced with the unseen weight that guarded his lands. But now... things had changed. The recent battle, its scale and violence, had broken that uneasy silence. The shockwaves that tore through the skies, the sudden heavy down pour of rain, fluctuations in cursed energy, and the strange magical signatures that followed. all of it had drawn unwanted attention. In response, the minds of the surrounding kingdoms stirred. Their scholars pored over ancient texts. Their mages studied the fluctuations in the ley lines. Their rulers convened in secret halls, whispering about what Erik might have done. It did not take long for patterns to emerge. The clever ones began connecting events, the surge in corrupted energy, the appearance of strange phenomena near Erik’s borders. Slowly, theories turned into conclusions. They did not know everything, but they knew enough to be afraid. Reports recently began to pour in from the soldiers stationed along the border wall, frantic, shaken accounts of what they had witnessed. A giantess had appeared near the outer perimeter of Erik’s domain, towering and radiant, her presence both mesmerizing and terrifying. Those who caught even a glimpse of her spoke of an overwhelming sense of awe and dread that hollowed their minds and left them trembling long after she vanished. Some described her beauty as divine, others as monstrous. But all agreed on one thing, she was not human. When these accounts reached the ruling courts of the neighboring kingdoms, panic began to ripple through their councils. They knew what Erik’s lands had become, a cursed kingdom, a haven for the afflicted and the damned. But this... this was different. The scholars and seers who studied the border incidents began drawing lines between recent events. The timing, the nature of the apparition, the surge in cursed essence emanating from Erik’s domain all of it began to fit together. And then someone uttered the name that sent every chamber into uneasy silence: The Enchanting Siren, one of the Arch Curse, said to be the unwanted children of the origin god Ikenga. Her influence was said to warp emotion itself, bending desire, and obsession into tools of her will. Wherever she manifested, tragedy followed, people and kings losing their minds to longing. To think that she had turned her gaze toward Erik’s kingdom was enough to unnerve even the most composed of rulers. Whispers spread like wildfire through the courts: Has Erik gained her favor? Had the Siren chosen him or worse, his people? None wanted to believe it. For if the Lady Siren’s attention truly rested on Erik’s domain, it would mark a shift in the balance of the entire region. Her favor was no blessing, it was an omen, a curse disguised as grace. And the timing only deepened the fear.