<h4>Chapter 629: Four Centuries Ago (II)</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    For a long moment after Morwen finished speaking, the pavilion felt like it had been frozen in time.


    Her words didn’t just linger in the air... they pressed down on us, heavy and suffocating.


    I realized I had been holding my breath. Slowly, I forced myself to inhale.


    But even breathing felt difficult. Because what she had just revealed... it was far worse than anything I had imagined.


    Around the firepit, no one spoke.


    River sat beside me,pletely still. The usual quiet confidence in his posture had been reced by something far more rigid.


    Kieran had leaned back slightly in his chair, one hand braced against his knee as if grounding himself.


    Even Jasper, who had remained silent through the entire meeting, looked darker than I had ever seen him before. His gaze had dropped to the ground, and his jaw was set tight.


    Across from us, the witches were no different. They stared at Morwen in shock. Some looked horrified. Some looked confused. And some looked like their entire understanding of their own history had just shattered.


    Tamsin had gone pale. The anger she had been radiating earlier had drained away, leaving behind disbelief.


    But among all of them, the other elder stood out as she’s the only one who didn’t seem surprised. However, just like Elder Morwen, she too looked tired, burdened, and deeply... painfully guilty.


    Her eyes stayed lowered, her hands folded tightly together in herp. She hadn’t spoken a single word since Morwen began the story.


    But the expression on her face made one thing painfully clear - all this time, she had known the truth just like Elder Morwen.


    They had both carried the weight of this truth for years... maybe decades or even century... without ever revealing it to anyone.


    And suddenly the silence and denial of their coven made much more sense.


    I swallowed slowly, trying to steady the storm of thoughts crashing through my mind.


    Even when I first began suspecting that witches might be involved in the mystery of the secret chamber and the Great Evil, even when I realized the severance rune was part of a different ritual... I never expected the truth to be this dark.


    Because of a group of people’s greed, mistake, and fear... not only a divine healer lost his soul, but it even created the thing we now called the Great Evil.


    My stomach twisted.


    Because when I thought about it now, Morwen’s story made horrifying sense.


    If the Great Evil was truly the twisted soul of the healer they had captured... then it made sense why the soul deaths were happening again now.


    It was feeding, trying to survive, trying to rebuild something it had lost.


    And another realization followed immediately after... one that sent a cold ripple through my chest.


    That was why I could sense it.


    I had wondered about that ever since the first time I sensed the wrong energy. No one else had sensed its presence the way I had.


    But now I understood.


    The soul trapped there once carried divine healing power, the same power that lived inside me.


    So there’s a high chamber my healing energy had recognized it. Recognized what it once was.


    That was also why I had been able to see fragments of the past when I touched the runes in that chamber.


    Morwen’s voice broke the silence again... as well as pulled me out of my thoughts.


    "After the soul escaped the chamber," she said quietly, "our ancestors descended into panic."


    Her gaze remained fixed on the fire.


    "At first, they believed the soul would dissipate... but it didn’t." She exhaled slowly. "Instead, reports began spreading across nearby packs and towns about how wolves were being found unconscious. Inas."


    My chest tightened as Draven’s unconscious image suddenly shed in my mind.


    "They were still alive," she continued, "but empty."


    She didn’t need to say the next part.


    We all knew it.


    Their wolves had been taken.


    "The coven did not immediately understand what was happening," Morwen said. "They only heard rumors. But then the Werewolf Council began sending requests."


    River’s gaze sharpened slightly as he spoke, "They asked witches for assistance."


    Morwen nodded faintly even though he didn’t phrase his words as a question.


    "At the time, witches were still known for their healing spells and potions. So the council summoned several covens to help examine the victims."


    The fire crackled.


    "And when our ancestors saw the victims..." She closed her eyes briefly, "...they realized the truth - the soul they had unleashed was feeding on wolves."


    Morwen’s voice carried unmistakable regret as she said the words out loud- "And it was our fault."


    Several witches shifted uneasily. Tamsin actually looked horrified now... probably still in denial.


    "But that realization only made the coven panic more," Morwen continued. "Because if the Werewolf Council ever discovered what truly caused those soul deaths..."


    She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Everyone in the pavilion knew what would have happened.


    The council wouldn’t have tolerated something like that.


    Not then.


    Not now.


    "Instead of confessing," Morwen said quietly, "our ancestors chose another path."


    Her gaze drifted toward the forest surrounding us.


    "They hunted the soul. It took them months. Perhaps longer. But eventually... they managed to trap it again."


    My mind shed briefly to the dead tree beneath the West Tower, and to the runes carved around it.


    "They sealed the soul inside the secret underground chamber," Morwen continued, "... using the tree as the focal point of the binding."


    River’s jaw tightened beside me. "And once the seal was in ce... they abandoned the vige."


    His words were heavy... but they were true.


    Morwen let out a deep sigh. "That’s right. They abandoned the vige and relocated deep into the mountains."


    Her gaze moved across the witches seated around her.


    "And from that day forward, witches withdrew from the affairs of the outside world."


    The younger witches listened in stunned silence.


    "The story they told the world," Morwen said quietly, "was that witches desired peace and istion."


    She looked down at her hands. "But the truth was that we were hiding. Hiding from the consequences of what we had done."


    The pavilion fell silent again.


    Morwen continued after a moment. "Our ancestors believed the seal would hold forever. They believed that if the soul remained trapped, the soul deaths would never happen again."


    And for centuries... they were right.


    "The n worked," Morwen said, "The soul deaths stopped, and the Werewolf Council stopped investigating once the attacks ceased. Without new victims, they assumed the threat had ended."


    My chest tightened slightly.


    "And the truth remained buried," she finished quietly. Just as our ancestors intended."


    But there was still one problem... something none of them had expected.


    "What no one predicted," Morwen said slowly, "was time." The firelight flickered across her face as she spoke, "Four centuries is a long time for any seal. The binding eventually weakened, the runes deteriorated, the magic faded, and eventually..."


    She inhaled slowly.


    "...the seal broke."


    The wordsnded heavily.


    "The soul escaped once again."


    And just like that...


    The nightmare had begun again.


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