The swamp wind suddenly changed direction.
Not heavier, but denser. It brought a fishy smell that hit Minglan's nose in a different way. It smelled like old, trapped water that had finally met open air.
Wait…
Minglan's steps halted when his eyes caught a soft vibration on the ground in front of him.
He took one step backward.
The ground sank.
It wasn't a huge hole. If anything, it looked way too small to be a set-up trap. The surface of the ground slowly sank, revealing greenish liquid mud that looked far too shiny to be normal mud. A thin cloud of fumes rose, stinging his eyes.
Swamp fumes.
Minglan covered his nose with his arm upon realization. In the game, he lost 80% of his health because of these fumes. That alone was enough for him to avoid inhaling them, whatever the outcome would be if he let them seep into his lungs.
Minglan turned back, looking for the driest way to get out of his current position.
And that was the moment he heard a voice.
"Stop."
A woman's voice. Light, but firm.
Minglan's head jerked to the side.
Behind a half-dead tree trunk stood a girl. She was petite, shorter than him, but her posture was neat. Her black hair was tied back simply, and her face was clean, though clearly tired.
However, her eyes looked rather empty.
Not emotionally empty, but unfocused. Her gaze drifted slightly to the left, as if there were a gap between what she saw and what she understood.
"You're way too close," she said again. "Three steps forward, and the ground is poisonous."
…Even the ground can be poisoned? Minglan thought in disbelief. However, he didn't move an inch upon hearing the warning.
"How did you know?"
The girl raised her hand, pointing at the ground without actually looking at it. "The smell. And the sound of the earth. If you take another step, your feet will sink in up to your calves. You should take a step back now."
Minglan swallowed hard. He took one step back, following the girl's instruction.
The soil in front of him sank again.
"…Thank you."
The girl dipped her chin. "No worries."
She gave him a small smile. Pretty. Not flashy or ethereal. Rather, she looked sweet and adorable.
"The name is Si Yalin," she said. "From Merrin."
Merrin. Minglan remembered reading in the game's description that Merrin was mentioned as one of the seven worlds in the universe. He didn't know what kind of place it was, though.
"Are you going to the academy too?" Minglan asked.
"Yes." Yalin paused, then added matter-of-factly, "I'm almost blind."
Minglan fell silent.
"Not fully," she continued casually. "But in this elimination round, I can only catch shadows and light. The details are gone."
"Then why continue?" Minglan probed.
Yalin smiled again. "Why wouldn't I? My nose works perfectly, I can hear clearly, and most importantly, I can still cook."
Minglan had never fought for anything so hard that he was willing to endure such discomfort. He didn't understand her way of thinking at all. Still, he nodded out of politeness.
They walked together, keeping their distance from the poisonous swamp and soil. Minglan watched Yalin's steps. Careful, but not hesitant. Each step was measured, as if she had already mapped the world in her head.
"You said your sight only gets worse during the elimination round," Minglan said. "Does that mean once we reach the academy and pass, you'll get your normal sight back?"
Yalin nodded. "Elimination rounds are rumored to be harsh on some and kind to others. There are people given turbulence like me, and others who get help from the elimination-round system. Those are the lucky ones."
Minglan, the apparently lucky boy, stayed silent.
After a few hours of walking, the sun finally set.
Maybe it was the setting of the elimination-round area, or maybe it was a coincidence, but the moon shone so brightly that it felt like there were lamp posts along the path they walked.
After a few more minutes, Minglan's steps came to a halt once again.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Yalin frowned. "I don't."
"That's the problem," Minglan said quietly.
It was quiet.
The swamp was always noisy. Insects, water, something moving. But before them, the silence gaped, round and empty.
A sound-eating zone.
Minglan had watched way too many horror movies to not know about sound-eating zones. A place where voices are lost, and often, people are lost within them.
"We can't walk past that," Minglan warned.
"If we turn around," Yalin said, "we'll enter the gas area again."
They fell silent.
Then Yalin said, "Let's take a break."
Minglan turned to her. "Here?"
"Where else?"
After agreeing to rest, the two of them worked together to make a makeshift shelter. Thank goodness for huge leaves and branches.
And of course, thanks to the magic hands of the Merrin girl, because Minglan had never been a crafty one.
After they were done, they made a small bonfire. Very small. Yalin took out root vegetables and some leftover meat from her small sling bag. She also took out a cloth bundle containing dried seeds and mushrooms.
"Foraging and hunting come in handy during times like this," she said casually.
Minglan was impressed. In the first second after his arrival, he hadn't even had time to think about foraging, let alone hunting. Just staying alive had already been difficult enough.
"How long have you been here?" Curiosity got the better of him, so he asked.
"Three months, probably."
"…Huh?"
What did she mean by three months? Does that mean it's possible to stay here for more than a few days? In these conditions? FREAKING HELL NO!
"Don't worry," Yalin spoke again, this time with a hint of a laugh in her voice, "The elimination round will end in about a week. If we don't reach the academy by then, we'll die rightaway."
…
"Right. Perfect." Minglan answered sarcastically.