Max’s head was spinning. It felt as if he had drunk far too much and only now lay down to recover. Something swirled inside his skull, and even through his closed eyelids the light burned. The sun beat down on him, yet its warmth spread pleasantly through his body. It felt like waking on a beach with a hangover.

  When he forced his eyes open and squinted against the glare, he saw that they were lying in a small clearing in the middle of a dense forest. Sound crashed into him all at once: hundreds of birds chattering, wind rustling through the branches, the distant cry of some animal. It was overwhelming. Where had the elf sent them? She had said she lived underground, not among trees.

  For a moment Max even forgot to breathe. When he finally drew in a deep breath, his lungs filled with thick, pine-scented air that tasted sharp and bitter. He looked around. Tall, massive trees rose on every side. No buildings – only forest. Nearby lay a scatter of gold and junk that had spilled from the demon’s body. There might even be artifacts among it.

  “I don’t like this,” Ruslan muttered.

  “Max, something feels wrong…” Julia said. “I’ll go look around.”

  The ghost vanished between the trees in an instant.

  Kristina lifted her head sleepily, then her eyes widened.

  “Max, I’m scared!” She crawled closer and clutched at him.

  Max instinctively activated his aura. A green ring flared around his chest, its glow spreading along his arm as he scanned everyone nearby. Despite bruises and scratches, they were all alive. He glanced at Anelle. Could she recognize his element by the ring’s appearance? He wasn’t sure.

  He nodded to himself. He would have to watch her closely. As long as they were surrounded by forest, he couldn’t let her out of his sight.

  Anelle was already on her feet, staring into the trees. Her face was tense.

  “Where are we?” Max asked.

  “In the Forest of Secrets,” she replied calmly.

  “And your city?”

  “Not here.”

  “I can see that. Why bring us here? Is it safe?”

  The elf gave him a cold smile.

  “Did you really think I would take a human who wields Space magic and associates with demons straight to my home? You’re not very clever. Our warriors already know where we are. If you don’t want your family harmed, surrender quietly. I promise you – if you pose no threat, you will remain alive. And you will be rewarded for saving the elven princess.”

  Associates with demons? Max bristled. She had seen him destroy the demon.

  And again, threats against his family.

  Anelle was not lying. Another pale elf stepped out of the forest without warning. His gaze moved from the princess to the teenagers and then to the pile of jewels. He approached silently.

  “Emanuel,” Anelle greeted him with a nod.

  The elf placed his hands on her shoulders and removed the arcane collar from her neck, as if no humans stood nearby at all.

  “Max… I’m scared,” Kristina whispered.

  “It’s going to be fine. We saved their princess,” Max said, trying to reassure her.

  At that exact moment her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. Ruslan fell onto the grass as well. Max barely had time to react before something slammed into his shoulder and threw him backward. An arrow etched with glowing patterns was lodged in his flesh. The runes flared once, then went dark.

  A magical arrow.

  His protective structure activated at once, but the tip carried poison as well. His green ring blazed, triggering regeneration, yet it wasn’t enough. The toxin struck instantly, and Max felt himself tear free from his body, hovering nearby in a half-transparent form.

  His physical body lay beside Ruslan and Kristina. There were no arrows in his siblings; it seemed they had simply been put to sleep with magic. Max had felt that influence too, but his structure had shielded him, and he hadn’t realized it. Sleep magic.

  Several agile elves in leather armor rushed forward. Max could barely follow their movements. Without a sound, they pulled the arrow from his shoulder, roughly sealed the wound with a spell, and began dragging the bodies away. Even stepping over branches and dry leaves, they made no noise at all.

  “Well, that went great,” Julia said, appearing beside him. “That clever witch played you. Did you see the hunters’ jewelry? One of them had a necklace made of human ears.”

  “I… didn’t notice,” Max said, still stunned.

  “Ha! Our attentive hero. I know what human ears look like. I used to have some myself. Very cute, by the way.”

  “You still do, dear,” he muttered.

  “How would I know? I don’t show up in mirrors!” Julia shot back.

  Max wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Frowning, he followed the elves through the forest. For a moment he even considered questioning the local souls – but that was the strangest part.

  There were none.

  Even near cities there were always shadows. Not every soul stepped through its door right away. Some ran, some wandered, and the Messengers rarely bothered chasing all of them. There were even mad ones who refused to go and drifted nearby for years.

  But here – nothing. Not a single soul.

  Why? Didn’t elves die? Or did someone collect their souls the moment they fell?

  A chill ran down his spine. This wasn’t natural.

  Still, there was plenty else to see.

  The forest itself felt almost enchanted. The trees were enormous, their roots so thick that in places they rose like hills, nearly impossible to climb over. The elves simply moved around those ridges, gliding smoothly and without sound. High in the canopy, wild cries echoed from time to time. Curious, Max rose into the branches to look.

  On one of them he spotted something that looked like a giant hive – but it was a nest. Inside, massive bats shifted and hissed. Their grotesque young tore greedily at a chunk of meat from a severed limb the adults had just brought. Max shuddered and quickly descended.

  The most important thing was not to lose sight of the elves carrying his body and his family. They didn’t bother hiding. Their natural stealth already made them nearly invisible. Even their voices blended with the forest’s murmur, like another layer of its song. Still, Max felt a strange pull toward his own body, as if an invisible thread bound him to it. He wouldn’t lose them.

  When the elves finally slowed, Max stopped and stared at a massive stone archway.

  Was this the entrance to their city?

  Could elves have built something like this? Delicate, graceful beings – and such heavy architecture? It seemed more likely they had taken over someone else’s home. Dwarves, perhaps. But had those dwarves left willingly? Or had they been driven out?

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  “I don’t know about you, but this place gives me the creeps,” Julia said, hovering beside him.

  Max agreed.

  They drifted forward in their ghostly forms, exploring what looked more like a fortress than a city. He hoped to find knowledge – or at least some sense of direction.

  In the dark corridors where hammers had once rung and dwarven laughter had echoed, soft elven songs now rose instead. Flowers bloomed between stone walls wrapped in moss, adding fragile beauty to the harsh architecture. Yet something uneasy lingered in the air.

  The runed stone walls clearly weren’t elven. The low ceilings and heavy supports spoke of dwarven craftsmanship. Anelle had claimed her people – the dark elves – had always lived underground, but clearly not here. Here they had found the perfect refuge: shelter from the dangers of the world and closeness to the forest, where they felt just as at home as on the surface.

  Long ago, this fortress had borne a name – Tinanor. Axes had rung here, and dwarves had forged masterpieces of stone and metal. That age had passed. For centuries now, dark elves had lived within Tinanor.

  Their graceful figures moved through halls carved with dwarven runes. Green moss and glowing lichen climbed the columns. The elves had brought light and magic into these ancient walls, filling them with new colors. Yet only part of the fortress was inhabited. Some halls remained sealed. Others were still unexplored.

  Max and Julia peeked into a large dining hall. Elves sat on soft cushions around dark wooden tables. Thin, plant-like lanterns hung from the walls, casting a gentle glow. Harps and flutes played melodies that flowed like a stream. Along the walls stood statues of dwarves, draped in cloth – a quiet tribute to the past.

  Beyond that lay workshops. Former dwarven chambers had become places where elves crafted jewelry from gold and silver. Their work did not match dwarven precision, but it had its own elegance.

  Max drifted through green galleries where plants were grown underground. He saw schools and living quarters. The elves seemed completely secure here.

  The underground labyrinths, once filled with traps, had become training grounds. Here they practiced agility and strength, held trials, and sometimes even camped overnight in small groups.

  Tinanor lived again. Dwarven history and elven artistry were woven together within its walls. Past, present, and future blended into a single harmony.

  It was fascinating – and unsettling.

  Meanwhile, his body was not being carried toward any dining hall. For some reason, Max was certain that when he woke, the hunger would be unbearable. Yet the elves led them lower and lower, down wide spiral stairs.

  And what was usually below?

  Prisons.

  Max couldn’t help noticing that wherever he went, someone always tried to lock him up.

  He drifted closer to the guards carrying their bodies.

  Max tried to activate his Ring of Flesh. He had done it before – when the body was unconscious, even minimal contact was enough. He needed to wake up as soon as possible. He had no idea where they were being taken through the fortress’s dark corridors.

  The ring flared, but the energy refused to circulate through his sleeping body. The elves noticed the glow and exchanged surprised glances, yet did nothing. Perhaps they assumed such things could happen in sleep.

  Max focused harder and forced himself to feel his physical form. At last, a thin thread of power found its path. Then the dam broke. Regeneration surged forward. In less than ten minutes, he opened his eyes and sat up sharply, startling the elves carrying him.

  “How did you wake up?!” one of them exclaimed.

  Max recognized the voice of the princess. She was walking beside them, escorting the group. He hadn’t even noticed her before. Why had she personally decided to accompany them to the prison after returning home? She looked exhausted and pale, probably hungry after everything she had been through. Instead of resting, bathing, and eating, she was descending into cold underground tunnels. It felt as if she were escorting her rescuers to their execution.

  “I want to know where we’re going,” Max said firmly.

  The elf remained silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, there was a trace of pity in her voice. Where had that pity been when she allowed them to shoot him?

  “Yes… I gave my word. It is an honor,” she said at last.

  “An honor? What are you talking about?”

  “We value your sacrifice,” she replied, and each word seemed to cost her effort. “Your life will pay for the lives of our children.”

  Max froze.

  “What do you mean – my life?”

  She did not answer. She only looked away. There was no malice in her tone, but that did not make it better.

  “I saved you!” Max burst out, realizing nothing good awaited them. “I thought we’d be safe in your home. We just arrived today. What about your hospitality?”

  The princess clenched her fists.

  “It is a great honor for a human. Few have ever met Eo, our spirit. She will decide. You will become part of her garden.” She paused, gathering herself. “Forgive me… this is not my choice. My father gave the order. You don’t understand. We cannot sacrifice our own when there are others. And Eo has not received offerings in a long time.”

  A cold wave passed through Max.

  “The honor is that your Eo will devour me? That death is an honor?” he said flatly. “So you feed your guests to a monster so it doesn’t eat you instead? How are you any better than the monsters? At least they don’t lie to themselves.”

  The elf inhaled sharply, her voice rising into a shout.

  “If you think I can change anything, you’re wrong! My father said, ‘Give them to the spirit, daughter. It is time you grow up.’” She stamped her foot so hard that the marble floor rippled. Her usual carefree mask was gone.

  Max frowned. Another trap. Once again, he would have to save his family. What kind of magical world was this, where every step was a fight for survival?

  He considered using the power of Words. But what if the elves killed Ruslan and Kristina instantly? And what if those same Lords of Death returned with their armies? He would have to flee again, and nothing would remain of the elven city.

  He could try the Ring of Space he had taken from the demon. But it was still clean, without techniques or weavings – only raw spatial power. Where would it send them? If it worked at all.

  The princess held out a small jar.

  “Take it. Put it on your wound. It will help.”

  Max accepted it cautiously. The smell was awful, enough to make him want to throw it away at once. Why bother healing him if they were leading him to death? Still, the ointment eased the pain almost immediately.

  “Why give me this?”

  “You must be alive for the spirit,” she answered simply.

  As they walked, torches cast trembling shadows across the marble walls. The stairs spiraled ever downward, and their footsteps echoed like a heartbeat. Max felt an invisible weight pressing on his soul. The air was thick, heavy with strange energy.

  The deeper they went, the stronger the sense of lingering fear became, as if hundreds of beings had once suffered here and their emotions had soaked into the stone itself.

  Max shivered.

  Even as they descended, Max began to understand what likely waited below. At first, he had assumed the elven spirit simply devoured living beings and absorbed their energy. But why would it need magic for that? It wasn’t just a spirit.

  Then it clicked.

  This thing fed on souls.

  The air was thick with suffering, and now he understood why. Those weren’t just lingering emotions.

  They were silent screams.

  At last, the elves reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a wide, dark corridor. There were no light sources here. The elves carrying torches stopped and did not move forward. At the far end stood tall metal gates framed with intricate runes. When the runes flared with cold light, the gates opened almost without sound, which somehow made it worse.

  The elves behind Max halted and placed their torches into wall brackets.

  “Where are we?! Max!” Kristina’s voice called from behind him.

  She had been woken. A moment later, Ruslan stirred as well. Max met her eyes, then glanced at Julia, who appeared at his side.

  “I hate this place,” the ghost muttered. “Feels like we’re about to get eaten.”

  “We won’t,” Max said with a faint smile. “Let it try. Besides, you’re already a ghost. What’s there for you to fear?”

  “Trust me, Max,” Julia said quietly, “I have plenty to fear.”

  “You go on alone from here,” the princess said. “We are forbidden from entering Eo’s gardens.”

  Max quickly weighed his options. He could try to deal with the elves first. Would his Ring of Flesh work on them? They were all within his aura’s range. Inside that space, he could do a great deal. Block a few blood vessels, and it would be over.

  He acted.

  Three elves collapsed at once.

  But it wasn’t that simple.

  Around four others, bright green rings flared instantly. Anelle’s ring was blue – bright for its level, but still blue. Some defensive technique had triggered on its own. The elves drew their weapons at the same time. Somehow, all of them immediately understood that the threat came from Max.

  “Turn off your magic, or I’ll cut off your damn hand!” shouted the elf closest to him, pointing his sword at Max’s left arm, where the green ring still shone.

  Max locked eyes with him. If these elves had resistance to magic, he likely wouldn’t get another chance to act before they struck.

  But he still had another plan.

  If he removed their spirit, perhaps no more sacrifices would be needed.

  And beyond that, something here mattered more than simple survival. Souls were being destroyed in this place. That damaged the world itself. Max could feel it clearly now, as if something whispered inside him, begging for help.

  It felt like the world was sick.

  And somehow, it was asking him to heal it.