They left before dawn.
The camp outside the forest was dismantled quietly, movements practiced and efficient. Packs were tightened, embers buried, traces erased as best they could. By the time the first pale light crept over the horizon, they were already walking again.
By late afternoon, the western edge of the Zaren Forest finally came into view.
It did not rise suddenly.
Instead, the land slowly darkened, the open sky narrowing as distant trees thickened into a living wall. The air changed first—cooler, heavier, carrying the scent of damp earth and something old, something untouched by roads or cities.
Clara slowed her steps.
"We camp here," she said, stopping just short of the tree line. "We enter tomorrow."
No one argued.
That night, the forest watched them.
The next morning, they crossed the threshold.
The moment Garry stepped beneath the canopy, the world felt… muted.
Sunlight filtered through layers of leaves, breaking into soft, shifting patterns that danced across the ground. Massive trees towered above them, trunks wide enough that three people could not wrap their arms around one. Others were thin and spiraled upward unnaturally, their bark etched with pale veins that pulsed faintly with mana.
Some trees leaned, heavy with moss that draped like curtains. Others stood bare and skeletal, their branches twisted into claw-like shapes.
Garry had never seen anything like it.
Near the roots of one tree, clusters of Glowfern bloomed—low plants with translucent leaves that shimmered faintly when disturbed. Farther in, thorny vines crept along the forest floor, bearing dull red berries known as Bloodknots, poisonous if eaten raw.
Life moved everywhere.
A flock of Whisperwings—small, translucent insects—rose briefly as they passed, their wings producing a sound like rustling silk. Somewhere deeper in the forest, a heavy-bodied Barkcrawler scuttled across a fallen log, its shell blending perfectly with the wood.
Then Garry saw it.
A small rodent, no larger than his forearm, its fur a pristine white that almost glowed against the dark soil. It stood on its hind legs, tilting its head as if curious.
"How cute…" Cael murmured, stepping forward.
She reached out—
"Don't."
Carkhat's voice was sharp.
Cael froze.
"That's a Pale-Fur Vesh," he said. "Poisonous."
Cael pulled her hand back slowly. "Poisonous?"
Carkhat nodded, eyes still fixed on the creature.
"Touching its fur is enough. Paralysis for a week if you're lucky."
Everyone turned to him.
"Last year," Carkhat continued quietly, "someone in my group did exactly what you almost did. We failed our quest because of it."
The rodent twitched once… then vanished into the undergrowth.
Garry swallowed. "That's… awful."
Carkhat exhaled. "You won't die. But you won't walk either."
Clara didn't comment. She simply gestured forward.
"Keep moving."
They walked deeper.
More life revealed itself—some beautiful, some unsettling.
Clusters of Moonbell Mushrooms clung to tree bases, pale caps chiming softly when brushed by wind. High above, a Branchtail Saurin leapt between limbs, its long tail coiling for balance before disappearing into foliage.
Yet beneath the beauty, something felt… wrong.
The forest was alive—but tense.
Too quiet in places.
Too watchful.
Then Clara stopped.
She raised her arm.
"Quiet."
Everyone froze.
She leaned slightly toward Acarme. "With me."
Without another word, the two of them slipped southward, their movements light and controlled, disappearing between the trees.
The rest waited.
Dary sat on a fallen branch, arms crossed. "Beautiful," she said dryly. "If you like being watched."
Carkhat snorted. "Creepy. Definitely creepy."
Garry glanced around. "Let's not argue."
They waited.
Ten minutes passed.
The forest breathed around them.
Unseen.
Waiting.
Clara and Acarme moved swiftly through the forest, their footsteps light, careful not to disturb more than necessary. The deeper they went, the less forgiving the terrain became. Roots rose like coiled snakes from the earth, and the undergrowth thickened, forcing them to weave between thorned shrubs and low-hanging branches.
The forest here felt different.
After several minutes, the first sign appeared.
A tree lay split down the middle, its trunk torn apart as if something had struck it with blunt force. The break wasn't old—the wood inside was still pale, sap clinging thickly along the裂.
Acarme slowed. "This wasn't weather."
Clara nodded. "Too clean."
They moved farther.
Another tree leaned unnaturally, its bark gouged deep with long, irregular scratches. Nearby, the ground was churned, soil scattered as if something heavy had passed through repeatedly.
Then they saw them.
A cluster of monsters lingered near a clearing—small, low-level creatures that should have avoided open spaces. Their forms were mismatched: hunched bodies, uneven movements, eyes darting in constant agitation.
"Those are forest skulkers," Acarme whispered. "They don't come this close to the edge."
"And not in groups," Clara added.
There were too many.
Not dozens—but far more than was normal for this region.
They weren't fighting.
They were wandering.
Restless.
Unfocused.
As if searching for something they didn't understand.
Acarme frowned. "This side of Zaren shouldn't have any monsters. At least not this far west."
"That's correct," Clara said quietly. "And yet…"
She watched the skulkers for several seconds longer, memorizing their movements, their numbers, the direction they drifted in.
"Even if they're weak," Acarme said, "numbers like this would wear the others down."
Clara's jaw tightened slightly.
"We don't engage," she decided. "We change our route."
They withdrew the way they came, careful not to draw attention.
Back at the waiting point, Garry had begun pacing.
"It's been a while," he said. "Shouldn't we check on them?"
Carkhat, halfway up a tree, looked down. "Relax. If something went wrong, we'd hear it."
Dary sat nearby, watching a cluster of insects crawl along a rock. "This place gives me a bad feeling," she muttered.
Cael glanced upward at the canopy. "It's beautiful," she said softly.
footsteps approached.
Clara and Acarme emerged from between the trees.
Garry straightened immediately. "What happened? Did you find something?"
Carkhat dropped lightly from the tree, riding a brief current of air to soften the landing. The girls gathered closer.
"There's a group of monsters in the south," Acarme began.
"If they're weak, we can just—" Garry started.
"And we should clear them out," Dary added at the same time.
Clara raised her hand.
"They're weak," she said calmly, "but there are too many."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"Even if we win, some of you will be injured. That's not acceptable."
Garry hesitated. He wanted to argue—to prove himself.
But he swallowed the words.
"Our goal isn't to fight," Clara continued. "It's to complete the assignment."
She pointed north. "We go that way. Slightly longer, but safer."
No one objected.
They adjusted their route and moved on.
As they traveled, the forest shifted subtly again.
They passed Cinderleaf Bushes, their ash-colored leaves warm to the touch. A pair of Needleback Hares darted across their path, spines bristling as they vanished into the brush. High above, a Hollowcall Bird cried once—its voice echoing unnaturally before fading.
The sun dipped lower.
When it hovered just above the horizon, Clara signaled for camp.
With practiced efficiency, they gathered edible mushrooms—Mooncaps and Stone Gill—avoiding anything unfamiliar. With Cael and Carkhat's experience, the stew came together thick and earthy, filling the air with warmth.
They ate in silence.
Above them, the full moon rose, bathing the forest in silver light. Stars pierced the canopy where branches parted, distant and cold.
The night deepened slowly.
The fire crackled low, its warmth pressing gently against the surrounding darkness. Shadows stretched and shifted along the trunks of nearby trees, bending and twisting as if alive. Beyond the circle of light, the forest remained still—too still.
Garry lay on his back, arms folded beneath his head, staring up through the narrow breaks in the canopy. The moon hung high, pale and full, its light slipping through leaves and branches in fractured pieces.
It was beautiful.
Nearby, Carkhat sat with his back against a tree, sharpening a blade with slow, steady movements. Cael leaned against a fallen log, eyes half-closed, listening to the night. Dary sat cross-legged near the fire, poking at embers with a stick, her expression thoughtful.
Acarme and Clara stood a little apart from the others.
"Too many signs," Acarme said quietly.
Clara nodded. "And none of them make sense on their own."
"Forest skulkers," Acarme continued. "Broken trees. Wandering patterns."
"They're not migrating," Clara replied. "They're displaced."
Acarme glanced toward the darkness beyond the firelight. "By what?"
Clara didn't answer.
She scanned the forest one last time, then turned back toward the camp.
"We'll take turns on watch," she said. "Two hours each."
No one objected.
As the others settled in, Garry closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day weigh him down.
Sleep came slowly.