Philippe plunged into the forest. The dense canopy of trees swallowed the sunlight, leaving a cold, damp twilight on the forest floor.
The scent of wet earth and decaying leaves stung his nose.
He brushed aside a large fern frond blocking his view and found what he was looking for: fresh boot prints etched clearly in the mud.
The tracks led deeper into the forest!
He began to follow them, each step feeling heavier than the last. No need to worry about rifthound tracks—the creatures floated without touching the ground.
Philippe tilted his head slightly, peering ahead. The deeper he ventured, the quieter the forest became. The clamor of battle had faded, replaced by an oppressive silence.
Only the distant flutter of unseen wings and the eerie whistle of the wind broke the stillness. The cold air sent shivers down his spine.
He hugged himself, the sword in his hand feeling like the only source of warmth in this world.
In this chilling solitude, a sudden image flashed in his mind.
The shadowy figure from the gate!
Could they have followed me this far?
There's no way they tracked me all this way, right?
The thought struck like lightning.
Panicked, he spun around, his wild eyes scanning every shadow among the tree trunks.
Empty.
No one was there.
But the relief he expected was overtaken by a different kind of terror. I'm… alone in this forest.
Truly alone.
The realization hit him hard. He shook his head vigorously, trying to banish the thoughts.
He forced his legs to follow the tracks again.
"Calm down… calm down… there's nothing here…" he whispered repeatedly, the words hollow in the forest's silence.
Each step felt laced with menace; every twig snapping underfoot made him flinch.
He felt like he was trapped in one of the horror movies he used to watch on Earth, waiting for something to leap from the darkness.
A fleeting pang of regret crossed his mind—regret for binge-watching those horror films back on Earth!
Suddenly, the bushes to his right rustled violently.
Philippe froze, his sword raised, on high alert.
The sound grew louder, closer. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, eyes locked on the trembling foliage. Moments later, a small creature burst out.
Brown fur, tiny, with long ears and large, round, wary eyes. A rabbit!
The scream lodged in his throat was swallowed back with effort.
He'd nearly shrieked in fear over a rabbit!
His heart raced with embarrassment. He let out a long, trembling breath, half-relieved, half-amused at himself.
How humiliating if anyone found out!
He sighed, grateful no one was around. Oddly, the rabbit's appearance had calmed his nerves, banishing his fear in an instant.
Who knew a cute, furry creature could be so soothing?
The rabbit stared at him briefly before darting back into the bushes.
"Good thing it was just a rabbit…" he muttered.
He turned his gaze forward, and in that moment, his world stopped.
His eyes widened, his jaw dropped slightly.
All sounds in the forest vanished. The oppressive silence from before became absolute, as if he were trapped in a void.
The air around him turned icy, freezing his bones despite the absence of any breeze.
Even if he wanted to look away, he couldn't.
He felt utterly isolated!
There, among the shadows of a massive oak tree, stood the figure. His trembling eyes locked onto it. A human silhouette, unmistakable and seared deep into his memory.
The same figure from the gate, haunting his thoughts. A hooded cloak concealed everything except a smile that split its face—wide enough to reach its ears, inhuman. The figure just stood there, staring.
The stalker!
The stalker was watching him from behind the tree!
Philippe's body shook violently. The sword in his hand trembled.
"They… followed me…?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "How… how could they keep up with horses?"
But moments later, the figure took a step back and melted into the tree's shadow, vanishing as if it had never been there.
Philippe blinked several times, disbelieving.
They disappeared like they were never there
In an instant, a question surged in his mind: What's their purpose?
Philippe tilted his head. The question swirled in his thoughts, but he quickly shook it off.
The coachman!
He was here to save the coachman.
With his focus renewed, he hurried after the tracks again. Strangely, the terror that had paralyzed him moments ago had morphed into a sharp, cold calm.
Is it because I know someone's following me? Is that why I'm so calm now? he wondered.
Yet, knowing he wasn't truly alone somehow made him more vigilant, more focused.
Soon, he reached a small clearing.
There, the backs of three rifthounds loomed, solid as stone.
They were circling something.
Philippe narrowed his eyes, cautiously scanning the area. No one else was in sight.
That means… Philippe's gaze locked onto the figure they surrounded, his grip tightening on his sword. He's there.
He crept forward as quietly as possible, aiming for a surprise attack.
But after a few steps, his foot snapped a dry twig.
CRACK!
The sound echoed loudly in the silence.
Damn it, how cliché! he cursed inwardly.
He wanted to curse his rotten luck!
Instantly, the three rifthounds whipped around.
One lunged at him. This time, Philippe was ready.
He dodged with a smoother movement, then spun and swung his sword with all his might.
The blade struck the monster's side, leaving a gaping wound and sending it crashing back with a pained shriek.
This time, his attack had landed—and with significant impact.
Humans adapt fast!
He may have failed once or twice before, but not the third time!
Suddenly, the two remaining rifthounds began acting strangely.
They hunched over, as if in pain, and the air behind them shimmered and warped.
A pitch-black rift formed, sucking them in like dust.
They're escaping!
The wounded rifthound staggered after them into the portal, which vanished without a trace.
Philippe could only stare, breathless, unable to speak. They fled…?
After a moment of stunned silence, he remembered the coachman.
He rushed forward. The closer he got, the slower his steps became.
The sight before him churned his stomach. Blood splattered everywhere.
A severed arm lay on the grass, its white bone gleaming grotesquely.
Then he heard it—a hoarse sob, punctuated by blood-choked coughs.
There, slumped against a tree, the coachman stared at him with eyes full of despair. His body was riddled with wounds.
"I… I don't want to die…" he sobbed.
Philippe could only bite his lip, unable to contain the surge of emotions. He turned his face away, unable to bear the sight of such suffering.
At that moment, his eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
A translucent blue light appeared before him, forming a screen!
Quest Name: Forbidden Soul
Category: Special Quest
Region: Abyss
Description:
Use the skill Eclipse Soul to end the lives of three dying individuals. If this quest is not completed, the soul of the quest recipient will be locked in the Prison of Nothingness. They will be trapped in eternal void, unable to see, hear, feel, or think. Their existence will persist, but without consciousness or interaction with the world. Every memory, every emotion, and every hope will erode slowly until they become an empty, meaningless husk. Only their physical body will remain in the world, but their soul and mind will turn to dust in the Prison of Nothingness.
Philippe read each word on the screen, and his world seemed to collapse.
When he finished, he slowly turned to the coachman.
His gaze was no longer just pity—it was a mix of profound compassion and the pain of a cruel fate.
I'm sorry.
***
A/N: If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
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