Jin-Su tightened his coat as he stepped into the crisp night air, the faint hum of the library's wards fading behind him. His thoughts churned, still caught in the swirl of Orlith's cryptic lesson and the weight of the system's warnings. The path ahead was clear—he couldn't afford to hesitate.
"System," he said, his tone steady, cutting through the quiet. "Where am I headed? What's the closest location of interest?"
[Analysis in progress. Closest location of interest identified: Shadowpine Forest. Approximate travel time: 15 minutes on foot.]
Shadowpine Forest. The name sparked faint memories. The sprawling woods bordering the academy were a frequent topic of hushed conversations—a place of natural beauty, teeming with magical creatures and shrouded in rumor.
"Shadowpine," Jin-Su muttered. "One of the closest interference points."
The system responded promptly.
[Compiling relevant data:]
[General Characteristics: Shadowpine Forest spans approximately 50 square kilometers and is known for its lush biodiversity. It hosts a wide variety of flora and fauna, including several species of low-tier magical beasts. In the outer radius, only animals with no threat to life. Inner radius known for having less dangerous, yet deadly monsters and animals overall inhabited.]
[Mana Concentration: The forest's proximity to a leyline enhances its natural mana saturation, making it an ideal habitat for magical creatures.]
[Hazards: While the outer sections of the forest are relatively safe, the deeper regions—referred to as the Eldertwine Depths—are home to more dangerous creatures and unstable mana pools. Entry into the depths is restricted without authorization.]
[Future Collected News: A group of scouts once investigated Shadowpine following a surge in mana activity but reported nothing significant. The cause of the disturbance was never determined. This was before the method of discovering and eliminating interruption. However, we did know that the forest was responsible for the interference. After the intel was gathered, it was cleared.]
[Cultural Context: Shadowpine is surrounded by wild, unverified tales. Students speak of odd occurrences: trees whispering their names, footsteps following them when no one is there, strange glows deep in the night. One popular rumor insists the forest rearranges itself to trap intruders, while others claim it holds hidden treasures protected by feral guardians. Some even whisper about a shadowy figure that watches but never intervenes. None of these stories have any basis in recorded history, but they linger nonetheless.]
Jin-Su's lips quirked into a humorless smile. "Anything else?"
[Warning: Even the slightest disturbance to the natural surroundings may cause unforeseen alterations. Proceed with extreme caution and limit unnecessary interactions with the environment.]
"Understood," he muttered, his voice firm. "Let's keep the chaos contained."
The academy grounds stretched before him, alive with faint murmurs of life despite the hour. Enchanted lampposts cast pools of golden light across the cobblestone paths, illuminating clusters of students. Near the central fountain, a group tossed glowing orbs of light back and forth, their laughter ringing out. Others sprawled on the grass, immersed in animated conversations, oblivious to the darkness creeping at the edges of their world.
Jin-Su's gaze lingered briefly on a pair of students dueling on the training fields, their wooden swords glinting faintly with mana. The strikes were uneven, unpracticed, but earnest. Cheers erupted from the small crowd gathered around them.
He watched them for a moment longer, a flicker of wistfulness softening his features. There was a time when he could've been like them—free of worry, reveling in simple moments. That time had long since passed, replaced by burdens they couldn't begin to fathom. Jin-Su exhaled, steadying his resolve. "They don't realize how fragile this peace is," he murmured.
As he neared the western gate, the lively energy of the campus gave way to an orderly stillness. A line of students and faculty waited at the checkpoint, their voices hushed. A lone guard stood beneath an enchanted lamppost, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the light. His tone was polite but firm as he questioned those in line.
"Name? Identification? Reason for leaving?"
Jin-Su's steps slowed. The guard's thoroughness was commendable, but Jin-Su had no intention of waiting or drawing attention to himself. Pulling his hood higher, he reached into his reservoir of power. A faint shimmer enveloped him as he cast Invisibility with [Magic], the spell wrapping around him seamlessly. At the same time, he activated Presence Suppression, a [Martial] technique that rendered him utterly undetectable.
The world around him seemed to dim. The conversations and laughter blurred into indistinct noise, and the guard's eyes slid over him as if he didn't exist. Jin-Su moved past the queue with measured steps, slipping through the gate without a sound.
Once beyond the checkpoint, he kept his abilities active. His pace quickened, each step transitioning into a long, graceful leap. His movements left no trace—no disturbed grass, no scuff marks on the cobblestones. This seamless technique was something he had mastered in his last life, under the guidance of Aelis, the elven assassin who had been his most trusted ally.
Aelis's lessons had been brutal but filled with purpose. She never let him falter, but her approach was not without care. "You're better than this, Jin-Su," she would say while Jin-Su needed to walk over hot coal, her emerald eyes sharp but warm. "Failure is only a lesson until you make it a habit. I don't want to see you hurt because of laziness." She said as she hung Jin-Su using a rope by his leg over a tree for days. Her punishments were harsh, but always calculated, a tempered version of the harsher consequences she had faced under the tutelage of her elven teachers. For Jin-Su, she softened the edge of her discipline, offering guidance even in moments of frustration.
Through her training, Jin-Su learned to move as if the world itself had forgotten him. Each misstep was met with swift correction, each success a fleeting reprieve. What he endured forged him into a phantom, silent and precise, an echo of the shadow that Aelis herself embodied.
The forest rose ahead, its towering canopy blotting out the faint light of the stars. Shadowpine loomed like a sentinel, its entrance marked by an ornate archway of intertwined stone and wood. The protective runes etched into the arch glowed faintly, their light swallowed by the oppressive darkness that lay beyond.
Jin-Su slowed as he approached. The air here was different—thick, almost tangible, charged with an unsteady pulse of mana. The moon was absent tonight, leaving the world draped in impenetrable black. Even with his darkvision, Jin-Su could only make out the faintest outlines of gnarled trees and uneven ground.
The silence pressed down on him, heavier than he expected. It wasn't the natural quiet of a forest at rest—it was deliberate. Then, a ripple brushed against his senses—a subtle resonance laced with a bitter tang of burnt ozone and something more primal. It was magic, yes, but twisted and fractured, like an open wound in the fabric of reality.
Jin-Su's instincts flared as his gaze locked onto faint distortions in the air. The shimmer twisted unnaturally, a distortion that made the edges of his vision pulse. His gut tightened. Whatever lay ahead, it wasn't natural.
The faint echo of a sound—too distant to decipher—cut through the air. His eyes narrowed.
This wasn't interference. This was a problem.
Without hesitation, Jin-Su vanished into the dark embrace of Shadowpine Forest, the warped energy pulling him deeper into its shadows.