The darkness of the fourth corridor swallowed their steps until Anoby and Hina arrived at a stone door that creaked slowly as it opened. Beyond it lay a sloping hallway where water gently trickled along the incline of stone steps. Their breaths quickened as they climbed step by step, lantern light dancing on the damp walls, revealing mushroom roots covering narrow alcoves. Ten years in the darkness of the Black Forest had not been enough to unravel all its secrets, but one task remained etched in Anoby's mind: to find and stop the Wielder of Time.
As they stepped onto the surface, fresh air greeted them—cool and clean, unlike the mushroom spice and damp earth of the deepest corridor. Morning mist still shrouded the village of Rhumal, forming a thin veil that muted the sounds of nature. Hina held Anoby's arm, helping him up the gentle slope toward the village. Her eyes gazed at the village with mixed feelings—a relieved smile painted her lips, as if truly returning home, but worry still lingered behind her eyes.
"The village looks... a bit different," said Hina, her soft voice almost lost in the whispering wind. Some of the stingless bee tiles on the thatched roofs had been replaced, a sign that the rainy season had brought change. Wooden fences in the yards looked repaired—the wood paler in color, but the frames stronger.
Anoby only nodded, briefly touching the cloth over his eyes, making sure it was still firmly in place. An ancient iron pipe hung at his waist, a reminder of many battles in the darkness. He felt the weapon's density—heavy, cold, memories of clashes and shadow strikes. As his main weapon, the pipe had been with him since the day he found the First Trail in Uthala Forest, and somehow, Anoby felt there was something he still didn't understand about the old pipe.
Unveiling the Wielder of Time
They headed to the village hall, where a new notice board was displayed on the wooden wall. Some villagers gathered, signing road repair documents and tea harvest lists. Hina stepped toward the board, reading line by line of the announcements. In the top corner, a faded writing seemed deliberately left faint:
"Seekers of truth: The dweller of time stirs behind the unseen gate. The Wielder of Time hides in the old house at the western edge of the village. Do not let them rupture the pulse of the world."
Hina looked up, drawing the attention of the entire hall, who then froze to her. "This... this message appeared just this morning," she whispered. Some villagers scoffed, others frowned, questioning whether this was a warning or mere gossip. But Anoby knew this was the clue he had long awaited: the Wielder of Time's location had been revealed.
A middle-aged woman, head of the weavers, stepped forward. Her eyes red from crying, she tapped the birdcage on her belt—where the white bird from the Goddess Nyara usually departed to deliver letters. "Time moves so fast," she murmured. "We lost several farmers, they vanished without a trace after entering the western edge forest, and our farming tools stopped working suddenly. Many suspect time magic is involved."
Anoby felt pebbles of resolve rolling in his chest. He approached other villagers, gave a brief smile, and asked simple questions: the location of the old house, the road condition, rumors of mysterious guests in the village. Each piece of information he gathered shaped a new image—the Wielder of Time was not just a figure, but an entity manipulating the flow of time around them, disrupting the village's normal life.
The Old House at the North
As the sun climbed toward the midpoint of the sky, Anoby and Hina arrived at a row of wooden houses built along the western tea plantation. Fences stretched out, but one house with worn teakwood walls stood unkempt—its tiles cracked, paint peeling, and the door creaked as Hina pushed it. In front of the house, a stalk of moon mushroom bloomed in the midst of weathered brick ruins.
Hina took a deep breath, staring into the narrow corridor. "I feel... emptiness here," Hina said quietly, her voice trembling. She was now fifteen years old and had learned to pick up on intuition from silence. Anoby nodded slowly, holding back his pounding heartbeat. He touched the iron pipe at his waist—its weight was the assurance he was ready for whatever came.
They stepped inside, tracing the dark corridor. Dust swirled, lantern light casting a soft orange hue on the walls. Inside stood a decayed wooden table, a rickety chair, and piles of old tomes scattered on a wooden shelf. The wooden floor creaked under their steps, aged by time. Hina jingled a string of small bells hanging from the frame—a faint ring echoed, as if a first birthday's harmony calling out the past.
Anoby turned toward the pile of books. Some titles were still legible, though faded: "Chronos Fracture Manual," "Time Control Runes," and "Sealed Notes of the Wielder." He stepped closer, picked one up. His touch stirred a light layer of dust, releasing the scent of aged paper. As he opened the page, a flash of a cracked circle symbol reflected in his eyes—the same pattern he found carved in Uthala Forest and in the dark corridor. Fate seemed to bind Anoby to that time pattern.
Hina lit a small lantern on the table, illuminating the same symbol on the wood: a cracked circle with a single numberless clock hand. "This is the clue," she whispered. Fear and curiosity mingled in her now-mature gaze. "The Wielder of Time... they might be sacrificing human time for their power."
Traces of the Book and the Wielder's Power
They carefully searched the shelves. Among the tomes, Hina found a parchment scroll tied with a moon mushroom ribbon. "I think this is what we're looking for," she said, placing the scroll on the table. Anoby slowly untied the ribbon, unrolling the scroll.
The writing was low and neatly patterned:
"The Wielder created the time gate with the flow of moon blood. Whoever controls time may erase darkness or reopen old wounds. The time bowstring only matters if you dare to release your own time."
Hina read it again and again, then looked at Anoby: "If this is true, we must cut the moon blood path—find out who's sacrificing their blood to control time. And this iron pipe might be part of the key." She pointed to Anoby's pipe. "They say this pipe was forged from ancient rails that resisted time's flow. If the Wielder tries to damage time, this pipe can counter it."
Anoby felt goosebumps. He touched the pipe and recalled the jolts during battles with shadows in the dark corridor—each strike echoed a dense energy, as if the pipe understood time's vibrations. He looked at Hina, his cloth-covered eyes glowing faintly. "Then we start here," he whispered softly.
A New Direction and Slowly Shrinking Time
They stepped toward the back room of the house, its door half collapsed. There, a soil corridor stretched toward an old well in the backyard. The well's water was clear, but its surface rippled strangely—as if time within it spun endlessly. Hina took a piece of Green Araklin root from her pouch and pressed it to the well's edge. "This will hold back time fluctuations around it," she explained.
Anoby placed the iron pipe beside the well, feeling a subtle resonance as it touched the surrounding stones. "If the Wielder is in the northern hut, we have to wait for night," he said. "The moon blood will ignite the Wielder's power—that's when we strike."
Hina nodded. "You and I will enter during the next lunar eclipse. The village will be dark, and this well's gate will become a secret path to the Wielder's lair."
Twilight crept slowly as they left the old house, the first birthday of the quest finally beginning. Hina held the lantern, looking at Anoby with full trust. "I've aged fifteen years, my time still stretches ahead. But for you, time seems frozen—use every second to end this."
Anoby looked at the iron pipe on his waist, then pointed toward the northern hut shrouded in tree shadows. "We will prepare," he said simply. The village's ruins awaited—time in Rhumal kept ticking, and every tick of the clock's hand brought them closer to the lunar eclipse that carried the shadow of the Wielder.
Thus ends Chapter 7: after ten years journeying through the darkness of the Black Forest, Anoby and Hina now prepare to face the threat of time itself. The ancient iron pipe grows ever more vital as the key weapon, and Hina's naturally aging spirit affirms how fleeting time truly is—especially for Anoby, where every second is a wager to save this dimension from time's deepest wound.