CHAPTER 1214: PRESSURE CREATES DIAMONDS (2).

Cain stood alone again.

But the forest didn’t feel empty.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think.

"Okay. Lantern keeps the freaks away. Fine."

He turned in a slow circle, scanning the trees for movement. Nothing stepped out to challenge him, though he could feel dozens of unseen eyes tracking him from the dark.

Cain took a breath and started walking—straight ahead, deeper into the woods, using the lantern’s glow as his only guarantee of safety. Every few meters, creatures stirred at the edge of vision, but none entered the light.

They followed him.

Always out of reach.

Always watching.

Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. The forest thickened, branches curling overhead like interlocking hands. The path underfoot became a narrow strip of roots and damp soil, almost carved by repeated footsteps. Cain kept going, refusing to let his pace falter, refusing to look behind him.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he saw something other than trees.

A clearing.

And in that clearing—

a structure.

It looked like a shrine, but nothing like the ones he knew. The stone was dark, veined with faint green luminescence, as if the rock carried its own quiet heartbeat. A single archway marked the entrance, tall and narrow, carved with symbols that weren’t letters and weren’t runes—curving lines that spiraled into one another like layered fingerprints.

In front of the archway stood another lantern, identical to the one Cain held—but its flame was dead.

He stepped toward it carefully, noting the absence of creatures in the clearing. Not because they feared the place. It was something else. Something heavier. Something that made the air hard to inhale.

Cain crouched next to the extinguished lantern. Unlike his, this one was cold, lifeless metal.

He inspected the archway next. His fingers passed over the carved symbols—they felt warm despite the cold air around him. Alive.

Then the flame in his lantern flickered for the first time since he touched it.

Cain froze.

The flame flickered again, brighter, stretching toward the archway.

"Seriously...?" he muttered. "You want me to go in there?"

The flame leaned forward again, unmistakably.

He stood there for a moment, weighing the stupidity of walking into a strange shrine in an unknown forest with no mana, no weapons, and no guarantee that whatever lived inside wasn’t waiting for him.

Then he exhaled sharply.

"Fine," he said under his breath. "Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole goes."

He lifted the lantern high and stepped through the archway.

Inside, the temperature dropped instantly. The air felt dense, pushing against him. The chamber was larger than expected, wide enough that his lantern barely illuminated the far walls. Strange murals spiraled across the stone, depicting shapes and figures he couldn’t interpret.

Then something shifted at the edge of the room.

Cain tensed, raising the lantern.

A figure sat against the far wall.

Human-sized. Hooded. Still.

Cain took a cautious step forward.

"Hey. You alive?"

The figure’s head lifted slowly.

Then it spoke—

voice dry, quiet, scraped raw.

"You finally brought the light."

Cain stiffened.

He didn’t recognize the voice.

He didn’t recognize the person.

But the figure clearly recognized him.

Cain didn’t move. He held the lantern out, letting its glow reach the hooded figure in slow increments. The chamber swallowed the light like it was starving for it, the shadows clinging stubbornly to every surface until the lantern’s presence forced them back.

The figure didn’t stand. Didn’t try to. It simply raised its head higher, enough for Cain to see the lower half of its face—chapped lips, a hollowed jawline, skin stretched thin from exhaustion. Human, at least in appearance.

"You finally brought the light," the figure repeated, voice low and eerily calm, like someone who had been waiting so long that surprise had burned out of them.

Cain adjusted his grip on the lantern. "I don’t know you."

The hood dipped slightly, as if acknowledging his words. "You’re not supposed to. The forest doesn’t send back the same person twice."

Cain frowned. "I didn’t come from the forest. I fell into it."

A dry breath escaped the figure—maybe a laugh, maybe disbelief. "Everyone says that, at first."

Cain stepped closer, cautious but not slow. The figure didn’t flinch. It remained seated, legs crossed, back pressed against the carved stone wall. As the lantern’s glow finally reached them fully, their outline sharpened. Their arms were bound—not by rope, but by narrow bands of the same luminous stone as the shrine itself. Thin chains of that material snaked from their wrists into the wall, as though the structure itself was holding them prisoner.

Cain narrowed his eyes. "Who tied you up?"

"The shrine," the figure said plainly.

"Right," Cain muttered. "Of course it did."

He examined the stone bands. No seams, no keyholes. They weren’t physically attached—they grew out of the wall, forming naturally around the figure’s arms.

Cain raised the lantern higher. "Why did it grab you?"

"It didn’t grab me. I sat down." The figure leaned their head back against the wall. "And then it didn’t let me leave."

"What’s the difference?"

"If it grabbed me, I’d be dead. Sitting means it allowed me to live." The figure’s voice was steady, empty of fear. "This place doesn’t tolerate thieves. Or intruders. But it tolerates those who carry the lantern."

Cain gestured at his own. "This thing? I just found it hanging from a branch."

The figure’s lips twitched. "That isn’t how it works. You didn’t find the lantern. The lantern found you."

Cain shook his head. "I don’t do riddles."

"You’re already in one."

Cain knelt slightly, lowering himself to eye level. The lantern’s flame bent toward the figure, but didn’t flare or recoil. Whatever they were, the lantern didn’t seem threatened by them.

"Why were you waiting for me?" Cain asked.

The figure tilted their head. The hood finally shifted enough for Cain to see their eyes—dull, sunken, but focused. "Because you’re the only one who has ever walked in with the lantern still lit."

Cain felt something tighten in his gut. "Meaning?"

"Meaning everyone else dies before they get here."

Cain didn’t look away. "Do they die to the creatures outside?"

"No."

The figure’s answer was immediate.

"They die to the darkness between places."

He didn’t like the sound of that.