Foreboding Storm

Chapter 38: Discovery


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On the outskirts of the Eastwind forest, an old man with white hair and cane anxiously paced around in one spot as he repeatedly glanced in the direction of the huge black forest. The giant forest loomed over the man like a giant black beast awaiting for its prey to fall into its trap.

After pacing for half of the day and not seeing any movement from the forest, the man stopped in spot, his expression turning pensive. A moment later, his gaze focused back on the black forest. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, intending to enter the black behemoth when a black Myif flew out of its grasp, heading towards him.

The old man took back his step, breathing in relief as he saw the figure on the back of the Myif.

Crown Prince Lail jumped off his Myif before it even landed as he reached the old oracle.

"So, how was it? What did the Speaking Ink Tree tell you?" The oracle immediately asked as the Crown Prince drew near.

"The Speaking Ink Tree asked me to complete a task before he would tell me anything." Crown Prince Lail disappointedly said.

"That is to be expected. As an old acquaintance of your ancestor, the ancient tree would first ascertain that you have the qualifications to deal with everything that would come your way before it gives you any information about your Crown Princess Consort. What task does it want you to complete?" The old oracle languidly asked as he stroked his beard.

"The Speaking Ink Tree wants me to enter the Heart of Mistland." With a strange expression, Crown Prince Lail slowly replied.

"What? Enter the Heart of Mistland?" The oracle cried out in disbelief, his gaze trembling. He thought that he might have misheard the Crown Prince, hence he repeated his words loudly, focusing his whole attention on Crown Prince Lail as he nervously waited for his response.

"Yes, the Speaking Ink Tree wants me to enter the Heart of Mistland." Crown Prince Lail replied with a serious expression on his face.

Looking at the old oracle with flickering emotions on his face, he hesitated a bit, unwilling to accept the implications of the assumption he made, before bracing himself. Wiping all emotions from his expression, his gaze turned cold and indifferent as he voiced out his thoughts.

"The Heart of Mistland is the source of magic in the Amayan Empire. Within its depths dwell wild and ferocious beasts heard and unheard of in the seven realms. If the Speaking Ink Tree wishes to test me to see if I have the ability to handle the obstacles that will get in my way on my quest to find my wife, does that not mean, where ever my wife is at, it is similar to the Heart of Mistland?" Crown Prince Lail seriously asked as he met the old oracles gaze.

The oracle's heart shivered as he met the Crown Prince's sharp gaze.

He had expected the Crown Princess Consort to be in a dangerous place after he saw that vision. But he did not expect her to be in the heart of a realm. The heart of a realm was the place where the origin source of life and magic in the entire realm originated.

But most of all, it was a place of magic and danger where only magical beings could enter.

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For the Crown Princess Consort to be in such a place, it could only mean that she had magic flowing in her veins.

The second the oracle came to this conclusion, he could not help sweating. It was fine if Princess Qamari had magic flowing in her veins, but the Crown Princess Consort of the Amayan Empire having magic in her blood would spell big trouble.

Because to save the Crown Princess Consort, the Crown Prince could and would go to any length. And if the Crown Prince had to enter the Heart of Mistland before he could search the Crown Princess Consort, they would have to hope for a miracle.

Hope that the Crown Prince also had magic in his veins, otherwise, the Heart of Mistland would be his grave. Because only magical beings survived in that land.

"Old oracle! Tell me, is my wife in a place similar to the Heart of Mistland?" Seeing the panicked and frightened expression on the old oracle's face, the Crown Prince could not help getting anxious.

His dear wife was in a place like the Heart of Mistland. Alone, unarmed, and defenseless. His dear wife was in a land swarming with vicious beasts and dangerous magic. His dear wife was alone in a land of danger.

The more Crown Prince Lail thought of his wife, the harder and faster his heart drummed against his chest. He felt suffocated, breathing turning into a painful and laborious task. Unconsciously, he held his chest, gently rubbing it as if to sooth the pain away as tears shimmered in his dark eyes.

The old oracle felt the change in his aura, from indifference to sudden sadness, he knew what the Crown Prince was thinking about.

Sighing, the oracle moved forward to support the crumbling Crown Prince as he poured a stream of calming potion over his head.

Instantly, the Crown Prince felt light, his depressed feelings lessening, reducing the pain in his chest.

"Thank you, oracle." The Crown Prince straightened up as he thanked the oracle. Looking in the direction of the Eastwind Forest, his goal was set.

"I suppose you are not going to heed my advice if I recommend you not to enter the Heart of Mistland now, are you?" The old oracle defeatedly asked as he caught the firm look in the Crown Prince's eyes when he gazed at the black forest.

"No, I will not. Knowing that my wife might be in a place like the Heart of Mistland is already painful enough. If you want to stop me from entering the Heart of Mistland, you would have to kill me first. Because right now, the most urgent task for me is to get to her as soon as possible, and to make that happen, I can do anything. Old oracle, take care. Thank you for your assistance this far." Crown Prince Lail's gaze turned sharp and firm as he turned and jumped onto the his black. Pulling on the reins, he moved determinedly towards the black forest.

Deep in the heart of Eastwind forest, Crown Prince Lail stood in front of a beckoning mist.. The shifting mist stirred above him, escaping between the gaps of his long fingers as it wrapped around his ankles, giving a gentle pull into its depths, an invitation.

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