After voicing his request in a tone that bordered on begging, the silence that followed was absolute. It stretched for three of Silak's frantic heartbeats, each second feeling like an eternity. He held his breath, his small fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Finally, the ancient, resonant voice bloomed once more in his mind.
["Before I answer, young prince, there is something you must know."] Gahumdagat's mental voice was heavy with hesitation, as if the ancient beast was weighing the very fabric of fate. He was uncertain if the boy was ready for the truth behind the forest's turmoil.
"I'm listening, Senior," Silak managed to say, his own voice barely a whisper in the vast cavern.
["I am the one causing the turmoil in the ancient forest."]
The statement was brief, direct, and utterly devastating. It struck Silak with the force of a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. 'Him? Senior Gahumdagat?' The idea was so preposterous, so contrary to his image of the protective guardian, that his mind simply refused to process it.
["I know that the consequences of my actions are indirectly endangering your tribe, and for that, I feel deep regret. It goes against our pact."] The ancient being's voice was laced with a genuine sorrow. ["However, I cannot explain the specifics. To speak of it would invite a karmic consequence so deadly it would obliterate not only me, but everything for leagues around this cave."]
The flicker of hope in Silak's chest sputtered and died. He could feel the rejection coming, a cold certainty that settled deep in his gut.
["Sigh… Tell me, little prince. What is the true intention behind your request?"]
Silak paused, forcing his reeling mind to focus. "My parents taught me that our tribe's relationship with you is one of mutual respect, not servitude," he answered, his voice regaining a sliver of its strength. "We have no right to demand you move with us or protect us forever. Honestly, Senior… I wouldn't be asking this of you if I were strong enough. If I could protect my family, my tribe."
A raw bitterness crept into his tone. 'I'am so tired of being protected while I can do nothing but watch as the people I care for die for me', he screamed in his mind. He bit his tongue to keep the words from spilling out, knowing they would only lead to questions about secrets he could not yet share.
["I am truly sorry, little prince,"] the voice was gentle, but firm. ["As much as I might wish to, I cannot accompany your tribe to your new home."]
["I have a reason I must remain in this cave; a purpose tied to the ancient forest itself. The blood essence I gave you… it was a gift of hope. Hope that you would grow strong enough, quickly enough, before my own time runs out."]
A wry, painful smile touched Silak's lips. It was a hollow gesture that held no humor. "Senior, I am afraid I am doomed to fail your expectations," he sighed, the disappointment a physical weight on his small shoulders.
"The Goddess herself revealed to me that I will be stuck in the Qi Gathering stage for some time. She… she did not tell me why."
He thought he was seeing things. For a fleeting instant, the colossal reptilian mouth of Gahumdagat seemed to curve upwards in what looked impossibly like a smile.
["I know."]
The two words were spoken cryptically, without a shred of further explanation. They hung in the air, creating a dozen new questions.
'Wait, that's it?! What do you mean, you know?!' Silak thought, his mind reeling with exasperation. He waited, but no further explanation came. How could he possibly know?
"Senior, how?" Silak's voice cracked with a child's frustration. The composure he fought so hard to maintain was crumbling. "How do you know? I have so many questions, and no one will give me a straight answer." He felt the overwhelming feeling of being lost in a world of cosmic secrets.
["I cannot tell you. Not yet."] Gahumdagat's voice softened slightly. ["Perhaps one day, when you have the strength to protect yourself from the answers, you will understand. But we are wasting precious time."]
Before Silak could interject, the ancient being skillfully diverted the topic. The voice in his mind shifted, the tone of regret replaced by a powerful, challenging resonance.
["Instead of seeking a guardian to protect your tribe, why not become that guardian yourself? Why not become the pillar you seek?"]
"I will!" Silak declared, his spirit flaring in response to the challenge. "I am confident I can. But I am just a child, Senior! I will be seven years old in a few months. The world is not giving me the time I need to grow!" He let out a sigh that sounded far too weary for his young body, the sigh was like of a middle-aged man trapped by circumstance.
["Then I shall give you a tool to shorten that time. I will pass my clan's sacred devouring technique to you. Let it be my legacy to your tribe. It is better passed on than lost to the river of time."]
Gahumdagat's eyes closed, and the immense pressure in the cavern intensified.
["Close your eyes, young prince. Quiet your mind and focus your consciousness. I will now pass to you the Eclipsing Maw: Devourer of the Eight Winds."]
Despite the typhoon of questions raging in his soul, Silak obeyed without hesitation. The questions could wait. If this technique was the key, he would accept it, no matter the price.
["Do not underestimate this gift,"] Gahumdagat's voice added, a touch of ancient smugness coloring the tone. ["One day, you will understand the true, terrifying power you now wield."]
A pinprick of brilliant, silver light detached from the center of Gahumdagat's massive forehead. It floated slowly through the air, pulsing like a miniature star, tugging at the very Qi in the cavern. It drifted towards Silak and gently touched the center of his brow.
His world exploded.
His consciousness was ripped from his body and flung into a cold, cosmic void. He was no longer Silak, but a silent observer watching a being of impossible scale—a serpent forged from shadows and gravity, with scales of obsidian. It opened its mouth, a maw so vast it created its own horizon, and inhaled. It devoured the light of distant stars, consumed swirling nebulae, and silenced the chaotic energies of the universe.
A primal, bone-deep hunger slammed into Silak's soul. It was not the simple need for food, but an instinctual, absolute understanding that all energy—the spiritual Qi of the world, the raw power of the elements, the very life force of his enemies—was merely fuel. It was all sustenance, waiting to be consumed. The Eclipsing Maw was not just a technique; it was a fundamental truth of the universe: all things could be devoured.