As Fein pushed deeper into the damn Forbidden Forest, his eyes narrowed with freakin' determination. The freakin' forest was dense as hell, the damn trees reaching out like creepy fingers to grab him. But Fein, cool as a cucumber, sauntered through the twisted pathways with a lazy swagger, as if he was just taking a leisurely stroll in the park.
The forest seemed to have a mind of its own, trying to trip him up with gnarled roots and low-hanging branches. But Fein, that sly son of a gun, effortlessly sidestepped every obstacle with a casual grace. His body language screamed confidence, like he was saying, "Hey, forest, you think you can mess with me? Think again."
After what felt like forever, a friggin' clearing opened up before him, bathed in a haunting glow. In the center of the damn clearing stood three mysterious figures, radiating power and wisdom. Fein couldn't help but roll his eyes. Seriously, more mystical guardians? Just his luck.
