The forest greeted them not with hostility, but with silence.
It was the kind of silence that pressed against the skin — heavy, watchful, alive. Each breath carried the scent of moss, dew, and something ancient that refused to fade. The air shimmered faintly with mana threads, like mist that refused to settle.
Shadow crouched beside a fallen log, brushing his fingers across the damp soil. "No traces of beasts nearby," he murmured. "We'll rest here for tonight."
"Understood," Rena replied, already tracing faint runes into the bark of nearby trees. The sigils glowed violet, linking together in a circular barrier that softly pulsed like a heartbeat.
Lena stretched, tossing her pack down. "Finally, somewhere dry. My feet are killing me."
Sera smiled, arranging her tomes near the firepit. "We're lucky this patch isn't soaked in miasma. Most of the forest has it — the air itself is thick with mana decay."
Ryn stood on a gnarled root, gazing beyond the tree line. "Lucky? Tell that to the Level 70 beast that was eating another Level 70 beast twenty minutes ago."
The group fell quiet, remembering the sight — two colossal monsters tearing each other apart, only for a third, larger one to emerge from the mist and crush both with a single strike. None of them had dared approach since.
Shadow said nothing, his eyes following the dim reflection of moonlight on his gauntlets. They'd been dormant ever since the forest's edge — almost lifeless. He clenched his hand once, testing for response. Nothing.
"This place…" he whispered. "It's rejecting something. Or maybe… testing us."
Rena looked at him, sensing the unease in his tone. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it together. For now, rest."
He nodded. "Yeah."
As the campfire crackled to life, warmth spread across their small clearing. The wind sang low through the leaves — a soft lullaby hiding the distant roars of predators. Firelight danced on everyone's faces; even Shadow's usually cold expression softened, faintly reflecting the glow.
For a while, it felt almost peaceful.
The flame flickered. A ripple of energy passed through the air. The leaves above trembled though no wind blew. The forest breathed.
Shadow's eyes narrowed. "...Did you feel that?"
The others paused, sensing it too — a pulse beneath the ground, faint but steady. Like a heartbeat echoing through the roots.
And deep below the surface — someone heard their arrival.
---
Lunareth's Heart — Beneath the Roots
Far under their feet, where the forest's pulse was born, light stirred.
A thousand roots shimmered faintly as a colossal tree exhaled a slow, aching sigh. Its sap — luminous and green — flowed sluggishly, tainted with veins of black.
There, nestled among the roots, a woman of bark and breathless beauty opened her eyes. Her hair was silver-green, cascading in tendrils that merged with the soil. Her chest rose weakly, each inhale laced with the faint glow of mana.
A low rumble shook the cavern. From the shadows emerged a titanic creature — fur like stone, eyes molten gold — the Forest Monarch.
"They have entered the forest," the beast rumbled. "Five humans. Their scents… not of corruption."
The Dryad — guardian of Lunareth — lifted her gaze weakly. Her voice was like wind through hollow reeds.
"Five lights… silver, flame, reflection, order, and shadow. The forest showed me this long ago."
The Monarch bowed his head. "Shall I drive them away, my lady? Humans bring ruin wherever they tread."
Her hand trembled as she pressed it to a glowing root. "No. The prophecy speaks — when the forest's veins run black, five wanderers shall awaken its heart once more. Perhaps… this is them."
But as she spoke, a shudder ran through her body. The veins beneath her skin darkened, the light dimming as black liquid seeped from the roots into her veins. She coughed violently — the sound raw, wet — staining her lips with shadowed sap.
The Monarch roared, shaking the roots around them. "The poison spreads again!"
"The Holy Land's relics… they've driven their false purity into my soil," she rasped. "And the Directorate's iron drills bleed my heart dry. Their machines still feed above the eastern ridge…"
Her words faded into a whisper. Around her, the forest itself groaned — trees shivering, leaves wilting in sympathy.
The Monarch's golden eyes dimmed. "If those five are meant to be the forest's salvation… shall I test their worth?"
The Dryad smiled faintly through her pain. "Yes. Test them. If their hearts remain true… guide them to me."
A single tear — glowing green — fell from her cheek and merged with the roots. From it, a small spirit was born, floating upward like a firefly of hope.
"Go," she whispered, her voice almost gone. "Watch them… and let the forest see if light can still bloom in shadow."
As the spirit ascended through the layers of earth toward the camp above, the Monarch bowed low beside her fading light.
"Then the will of Lunareth awakens once more," he murmured.