A low, creaking sound broke the silence, echoing through the mist-laden trees like a warning from the underworld. An owl of tainted black perched above them, its glassy eyes glimmering crimson as its head rotated with a sound like grinding gears.
Then—snap.
"HOOOO-WAAAHHHH!"
The owl screeched like something tortured and flapped into the fog, disappearing into the endless dark.
The forest fell silent. Not peaceful silence—but the kind that waits for something to die.
Two sets of boots pressed into the damp soil, crunching leaves that seemed to whisper beneath their weight. Luther walked in front, the dull glow of his eyes cutting through the dim like shards of moonlight. Beside him, Alina clung to her cloak, her expression tense but focused as she kept pace.
The air was heavy, thick with decay and something unseen—something watching.
Luther exhaled, his breath fogging. Why does every mission with me end up feeling like a cursed pilgrimage?
Envelon Forest was cursed enough.
