Aelith's fingers twitched.

  Her entire body was trembling under the crushing pressure, every fiber of her being screaming at her to submit. The very air seemed to pulse with a silent command—kneel. Her vision blurred, her lungs tightened, and her thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. This was not normal magic. This was something beyond.

  Yet even as she gasped for breath, her instincts flared, fighting against the suffocating weight. That thing… was staring at Frid.

  At first, she thought the creature was merely observing them. But no—its gaze was fixed, intent, as if it had found something deeply fascinating.

  And Frid… was still muttering. His lips moved feverishly, his expression blank yet desperate.

  "Agatha… Do you see it? Do you hear it?" His fingers twitched against the wet ground. "It’s calling… no, it’s watching… ah… Agatha?"

  Aelith’s gut twisted. Frid was already unstable, but now—he looked like he was slipping deeper into madness.

  That thing was looking straight into him. And it wasn’t just curiosity—no, it was fixation.

  Something inside Aelith snapped.

  Her hand jerked forward, fighting against the weight pressing her down. It felt like pushing through thickened air, through layers of unseen chains, but she forced her fingers into her robe.

  Crack.

  A flash of light burst beneath her palm as she broke the talisman.

  A wave of strength flooded through her body—her lungs expanded, her blood surged, and her spine straightened against the unbearable weight. She felt like she had just been yanked out of drowning waters, given a moment of clarity amidst chaos.

  But—

  The momentary strength she had gained was already being suppressed.

  Her heart clenched in despair. It was draining away. This feeling of power—this hope—it was vanishing almost as quickly as it had come.

  No. No. No!

  She couldn’t let it end here.

  Through gritted teeth, through trembling lips, she did the only thing she could think of.

  She pleaded.

  "Please—!"

  It was raw. Desperate. She didn’t even know what she was begging for. Salvation? Mercy? Recognition?

  Her voice was hoarse, strained, but it pierced through the suffocating silence.

  A sound.

  Eo's attention flickered.

  The female human was making a sound.

  His gaze shifted from the strange, familiar energy weaving inside the convulsing human to the one who had forced her mouth open, releasing that sound.

  Eo observed.

  The human’s throat contracted. Her lips parted. The sound came from inside.

  He tilted his head slightly.

  A system of movement? A pattern of vibration? Was this another way to communicate?

  He took a step forward—walking on water effortlessly.

  The ripples beneath his feet stilled as his body adjusted, instinctively syncing with the tension of the surface.

  The woman flinched.

  Fascinating.

  Eo’s eyes narrowed slightly, carefully absorbing every detail. He did not recognize the meaning of her sound, but he could recognize intent.

  It was different from Frid.

  The convulsing human had been muttering—his sounds lacked direction, unfocused, spiraling inwards.

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  But this female…

  She was facing him. Releasing the sound with clear intent.

  Eo considered this.

  Then—he imitated it.

  He had no vocal cords, but his body adjusted.

  A faint tremor ran through his core as he experimented, manipulating the flow of his form—forcing air through microscopic shifts in his structure.

  And then—

  "Plea—se?"

  The sound came out strange. Hollow. Stretched and warped as if it had been dragged through water and reassembled.

  Aelith's breath hitched.

  Frid, still shaking, stopped muttering.

  The other two, who were struggling to hold onto consciousness, stared.

  Eo absorbed their reactions.

  He had replicated the sound. But had he done it correctly?

  He analyzed their expressions.

  Shock. Fear. Stillness.

  Not satisfaction.

  Not recognition.

  Was the structure incorrect? The frequency? The tone?

  He needed more data.

  Eo took another step forward.

  The water did not resist him—it parted, embraced, shifted beneath him, carrying him closer.

  The moment he moved, the female human let out another sound.

  But this time—it was not a plea.

  It was a choked cry.

  Her body was shaking, her pupils shrinking.

  Eo halted.

  He observed again.

  The closer he got, the more intense their reactions.

  That was a pattern.

  Did distance affect them? Was it his presence? His energy? Something he was unconsciously releasing?

  Fascinating.

  Slowly, deliberately, Eo shifted his focus back to Frid.

  Something inside him felt odd.

  That energy—the Old Magic—

  It was similar.

  Similar to the thing moving inside of him.

  Not identical. But… connected.

  Eo didn’t understand why.

  But he wanted to.

  The waves lapped at the shore, the air hung thick with unspoken tension, and the humans trembled under a force they could not resist.

  And yet—Eo only felt curiosity.

  This… was a valuable encounter.

  Got it. Here's the continuation of Chapter 58 - The Weight of Words, incorporating your points smoothly while maintaining the flow.

  ---

  The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Aelith’s breath came in shallow gasps, her fingers digging into the damp earth as she forced herself to remain still.

  Eo tilted his head.

  The pattern remained the same—fear. Their bodies tensed, their pupils constricted, and their breathing became erratic whenever he moved closer. He had not touched them, had not attacked, yet they reacted as if he had.

  This confirmed something.

  His presence was the cause.

  Eo had never needed to suppress himself before. He was what he was—formless, fluid, unseen unless he wished to be seen. But now, the humans saw him, felt him, reacted to him.

  He was… too much.

  His form flickered. The oppressive weight that had unknowingly pressed upon them dissipated.

  Aelith gasped.

  The sudden absence of pressure sent her body into momentary confusion. It was like breaking the surface after nearly drowning—air rushed into her lungs, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse.

  Caelum, still half-conscious, sucked in a sharp breath. His fingers twitched as he turned his head weakly toward her. “…What… just happened?”

  Aelith swallowed hard. “It—It stopped.”

  The presence was still there—standing on the water, watching. But the weight, the suffocating force pinning them down, had vanished.

  Eo remained silent, watching them.

  His earlier action had resulted in a shift. He had reduced his presence, but they could still see him. That meant visibility and pressure were not tied together.

  Another observation. Another answer.

  Aelith forced herself to sit up. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored them, her gaze flicking toward the others. Caelum was stirring, but Thorne—

  A low groan cut through the night.

  Thorne’s fingers twitched before his entire body jerked upright, his breath ragged. His skin was damp with sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead. He looked like a man who had fought a war in his sleep.

  His eyes snapped toward Eo. “…That… thing…”

  Aelith tensed.

  Thorne was not weak. He was not someone who panicked easily. Yet the way his fingers curled, the way his entire body was coiled like a predator ready to strike—

  He was ready to fight.

  “Thorne, wait—”

  The warning came too late.

  Thorne moved.

  His hand slammed against the ground, and a pulse of energy erupted from beneath him. The force sent cracks splintering through the earth, a golden glow flickering along his fingertips.

  A spell. A barrier. A countermeasure against whatever Eo was.

  But—

  Eo did not react.

  He simply observed.

  The humans had limits. The suppression had overwhelmed them, but once it was gone, they regained strength—adaptive behavior.

  Fascinating.

  His attention shifted once more.

  Frid.

  Unlike the others, Frid had not moved. His head remained bowed, his hands limp against the ground. Yet his lips…

  They were still moving.

  Muttering.

  Murmuring.

  “…Divine… beyond… endless…”

  Aelith’s stomach twisted.

  Frid’s voice, once a delirious whisper, shifted. The tremble in his tone faded, replaced by something else—awe.

  His hands clenched. His breath shuddered. And then—

  He lifted his head.

  His eyes met Eo’s.

  And he smiled.

  “We are not worthy.”

  Aelith’s blood ran cold.

  The air crackled with something unseen—not magic, not suppression, but something deep-rooted, something ancient.

  Frid was not speaking in panic.

  He was speaking in worship.

  Eo blinked.

  Another shift.

  This was… unexpected.

  He had anticipated fear, confusion, resistance. But this?

  Fascinating.

  He watched as Frid pressed his forehead against the dirt, bowing completely.

  “Guide us.” His voice trembled, not with fear, but reverence.

  Aelith’s breath hitched. “Frid, stop.”

  But he didn’t.

  He did not hesitate.

  A new reaction. A new pattern. A new possibility.

  Eo’s curiosity deepened.

  The humans communicated through sound. Through submission. Through defiance.

  He had much more to learn.

  And he would.

  Slowly, Eo took another step forward.

  And this time—no one moved.

  The weight of words had changed everything.