SWNOVELXO Chapter 356: What is that?
Others began emerging, some clutching weapons as if preparing for an ambush, others simply staring in stunned silence.
"It's too bright," a grizzled veteran grumbled, shielding his face with one hand. His voice, usually firm and commanding, was tinged with uncertainty. "Too damn bright. That ain't natural."
The light continued to swell, its intensity reaching the edges of pain, forcing many to turn away or avert their gazes. Yet, even with their eyes closed, they could still feel it—a strange, buzzing heat that seemed to press against their skin and pulse in their veins.
"What's causing it?" a woman asked, her voice rising in pitch. She stood at the edge of the encampment, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Her breaths were shallow, and she glanced nervously between her comrades. "Does anyone see where it's coming from?"
"No," someone else replied, their tone sharp with panic. "It's—it's everywhere!"
The glow was no longer confined to the horizon. It was spilling into the camp now, washing over the tents, the fires, the people. Shadows flickered and warped, stretching unnaturally before collapsing in on themselves. The light moved as if it had a will of its own, brushing against their faces and armor, illuminating every fear-stricken line and crease.
"It's... humming," another soldier said, his voice barely audible over the faint, low-frequency thrum that had begun to accompany the glow. The sound was deep and resonant, a vibration that seemed to bypass their ears and settle directly in their bones.
One soldier dropped his weapon with a clatter, clutching at his chest. "It's… it's inside me," he gasped, his voice choked with fear. "I can feel it!"
Others stepped back instinctively, as if trying to distance themselves from the ever-growing phenomenon. But there was nowhere to go. The light was all-encompassing, its strange warmth pressing in on them from every angle.
A man fell to his knees, his hands gripping his hair as he let out a strangled cry. "This isn't right! This isn't right!"
"Stay calm!" someone shouted, though their own voice betrayed their fear. "We need to figure out—"
A sudden surge in brightness cut off their words, the intensity so overwhelming that it felt as if the world itself might be torn apart. Soldiers stumbled and fell, their faces pale and drenched in sweat.
"Make it stop!" one of them screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.
Others began murmuring prayers, their words disjointed and frantic. Some simply stood frozen, their eyes locked onto the searing light despite the pain, as though hypnotized by its impossible beauty and terror.
A childlike scream cut through the chaos—a younger recruit, barely out of his teens, who had curled into a ball on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. "I don't want to die here!" he cried.
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"Get up, damn it!" an older soldier barked, though his voice lacked its usual authority.
The scarred woman from the day before stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line. But even she couldn't hide the tremble in her shoulders or the wide-eyed fear in her gaze.
"It's not stopping," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Why isn't it stopping?"
From the edge of the camp, someone shouted, "Go get the Chief!"
"Yes, Lyerin!" another voice called out, frantic. "He'll know what this is!"
But no one moved.
Every soldier seemed frozen in place, caught between their instinct to run and their fear of abandoning their comrades. The idea of seeking Lyerin for answers was met with unspoken hesitation. Even now, with this impossible event unfolding, his name carried weight. A weight they weren't sure they wanted to bear.
"What are you all doing?" a grizzled commander finally growled, snapping them out of their paralysis. "Get to him!"
A younger man broke free from the group, his legs unsteady beneath him as he stumbled toward Lyerin's crimson tent. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heartbeat thunderous in his ears. The light seemed to follow him, wrapping around his body like a living thing, and he shuddered as he felt it seep into his skin.
Reaching the tent, he shoved the flap aside, his voice hoarse as he called out, "Chief! Something is happening!"
…
Lyerin lay sprawled on a low cot in his private tent, the thick scent of burning incense hanging heavy in the air.
His crimson eyes, half-lidded with fatigue, stared blankly at the ceiling as faint murmurs of panic seeped through the canvas walls.
For a moment, he debated ignoring the chaos.
He was tired.
Not just physically, but mentally, as if every fiber of his being protested the effort it took to simply exist among these people.
The soft hum of his protective barrier, invisible but ever-present, pulsed faintly around him—a quiet reminder of the lengths he went to keep himself safe.
But the voices outside grew louder, more frantic. They grated on his nerves like nails on stone.
With an exaggerated sigh, Lyerin swung his legs off the cot and rose lazily to his feet. His long, dark coat hung loosely from his shoulders, trailing behind him as he moved. His hand flicked in the air, and with a soundless ripple, the invisible barrier around him shattered, dissipating like shards of glass in the wind.
"Always something," he muttered under his breath, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeves.
Pushing open the tent flap, Lyerin stepped into the glaring light outside, squinting as the strange brightness assaulted his eyes.
He could feel the collective gaze of the soldiers snap to him the moment he appeared. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with a mixture of hope and dread as they parted to form a path for him.
"Chief…" one of them stammered, his voice trembling. "There's—something—"
Lyerin ignored him, his boots crunching against the dirt as he walked. The air was thick with tension, the unnatural light casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with every step he took.
And then he saw it.
At the center of the encampment, hovering just above the ground, was the portal.
It was a swirling, chaotic vortex of energy, a storm of colors that defied the natural order of things.
Blues, purples, and golds twisted together like liquid fire, their edges crackling with streaks of blinding white lightning.
The portal's center was darker, a yawning void that seemed to pull at the very fabric of reality around it. It emitted a deep, resonant hum that vibrated in their bones, its sound both alien and oddly hypnotic.
The air around the portal shimmered with heat, distorting the figures of those who stood closest to it.
A few soldiers edged closer, their faces awash with equal parts fear and fascination, while others kept their distance, their hands gripping their weapons tightly as though the vortex might lash out at them at any moment.
Lyerin stopped a few paces away, tilting his head slightly as he studied the phenomenon. A faint smile played at the corners of his lips—not one of warmth, but of amusement, as though he were privy to a joke that no one else understood.
"Chief," someone called out hesitantly. "What… what is that?"
The crowd murmured in agreement, their voices filled with unease. "What's happening?" "Is it dangerous?" "Where did it come from?"