The forest was eerily quiet after the clash with the two High Orcs, their massive bodies sprawled lifeless on the forest floor. The scent of blood mingled with the natural aroma of damp moss and old bark, the moonlight filtering through the thick canopy above like silver threads.
Noah exhaled slowly, sheathing Nemesis. But the respite lasted only a moment.
The ground trembled.
Leaves shook.
Somewhere deeper in the forest, a low, guttural roar echoed — not from a single creature, but from many.
Noah's sharp eyes narrowed. That's… a lot of footsteps.
A thick mist began to curl between the tree trunks, faintly glowing under the pale light. At first, shadowy shapes flickered in the distance — a slow, ominous procession. But the sound grew louder, heavier. Twigs snapped like bones beneath an army's march.
And then they emerged.
