Lucian's hands gripped the rough bark of the tree as he ascended, his breaths steady but labored. The dense overgrowth of the forest was a suffocating shroud of darkness, but here, amidst the endless canopy of leaves, there was a faint promise of sunlight above. Hours had passed since he left the site of destruction—where trees had been felled, and monsters had been silenced—and now his goal loomed in his mind: the tall black construct in the distance.
As he climbed higher, the branches grew thinner but more expansive, like veins stretching toward the faint light filtering through the leaves. Finally, he pushed through the thick foliage, emerging into a realm of dappled sunlight. For the first time in hours, the light kissed his skin, and he let out a soft, weary exhale.
Looking through the tangled mesh of branches and greenery, his eyes locked onto the towering black structure far on the horizon. Its sharp silhouette cut through the skyline like an ominous scar. His brows furrowed as he tried to gauge its size and distance.
"How big is that thing…?" he murmured to himself. The more he stared, the stranger it seemed. The construct was enormous, its presence imposing, but the trees stretching to the horizon were unnervingly uniform. Each one seemed to stand at the same height, an unnatural symmetry that left a gnawing unease in his stomach.
"Are they... grown like that? Or is something keeping them that way?" His mind wrestled with the unnatural logic of this cursed place. Shaking his head, he refocused. "I can't even estimate how far it is, but at least I know the direction. I'll reach it… eventually. And when I do, I'll get away from this nightmare of a forest."
He adjusted his grip on a sturdy branch, his gaze shifting to the black sword strapped to his side—the Nightrazor's Sword. Its ominous sheen seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, a hauntingly beautiful weapon that had been his salvation after the being inside him defeated the eight-legged hounds.
"I need to get stronger," Lucian thought, his fingers brushing the hilt of the sword. "Before I reach that place, I have to be at least twice as strong as I am now. This sword is my key to making that happen."
Positioning himself more securely on the branch, he allowed his thoughts to drift. His mind briefly flickered to the group he had left behind: Cedric, Selina, and Celeste. The memory of Cedric's betrayal burned in his chest, anger twisting his features. He clenched his fists.
"I'll deal with Cedric one day," he muttered. "But not now. I'm nowhere near strong enough to take him on."
His thoughts turned to Celeste, and a pang of worry struck him. "She'll be fine," he told himself, more out of hope than certainty. "They won't hurt her. At least… I don't think so. Even if they try, she's stronger than me. She has to protect herself." He grimaced at the thought of leaving her behind, but he knew he didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it. Survival came first, and for now, that meant forging his own path.
Taking one last, long look at the sunlight breaking through the leaves, Lucian winced. The light felt alien now, almost taunting. "Ugh, I really have to get used to this," he muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm.
With that, he began his descent back into the oppressive darkness below. The comforting warmth of the sunlight faded with each branch he passed, replaced by the cold, damp shadow of the forest floor. As he climbed down, the sounds of the cursed forest returned—the rustle of leaves, distant growls, and the ever-present sense of being watched.
Dropping onto the ground with a quiet thud, Lucian
Lucian unsheathed his sword, and held it firmly in a battle stance. A small light orb floated beside him, casting a faint glow over the dark, oppressive surroundings. The eerie silence of the cursed forest pressed in on him, but his focus was unwavering. He wanted to test the power and skill of his new weapon.
Taking a deep breath, he passed mana into the blade. The response was immediate and startling—the sword began absorbing his mana at an alarming rate.
The blade trembled slightly in his grip, emitting a low, resonant hum.
"Woong..."
"Ugh, this thing is eating my mana like crazy," he muttered, his jaw tightening as he tried to wrestle control over the mana flow. Sweat formed on his brow as he struggled to slow the rapid drain, but the sword refused to obey. "Damn it, I just wanted to test the skill!"
Gritting his teeth, Lucian pushed through the discomfort and called out, "Crimson Trail!"
The blade reacted instantly, glowing with an intense crimson light. He swung it in an arc, and vivid red streaks appeared in the air, each one leaving a trail of sharp, radiant energy. The streaks shimmered ominously, lingering in place like lines drawn in blood.
Lucian swung again and again, painting the air around him with these deadly streaks. When he finally stopped, he studied the glowing lines, curiosity and caution mixing in his expression. He needed to know just how destructive they were.
His gaze swept the area until he spotted a large rock nearby. With some effort, he hefted it onto his shoulder and hurled it into the streaks. The rock shattered on impact, cleanly sliced into fragments. Lucian's eyes widened as the jagged pieces tumbled to the ground.
"Cut like jelly..." he murmured, disbelief tinged with awe. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword. "How sharp are these streaks?"
He extended a hand toward the glowing trails and commanded them to dissipate. They vanished instantly, leaving the air eerily quiet once more. After a few more trials, he deduced that the streaks would naturally disappear after ten minutes if not dismissed manually. However, the drain on his mana reserves was significant—three uses of Crimson Trail were all he could afford before running dangerously low.
Drained, Lucian dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. His stomach growled in protest, reminding him of another battle he had yet to face: hunger. Reaching for his bracelet, he channeled mana into it, retrieving a vial of water. A small spell warmed the liquid, and he drank deeply, savoring the fleeting comfort.
His hand found another container inside the bracelet—a small box filled with cooked insects. The thought of eating them turned his stomach, but the cursed forest offered no alternatives. Steeling himself, he picked one up, the texture cold and unpleasant. Almost retching, he forced it into his mouth and swallowed, grimacing at the taste.
"Disgusting..." he muttered, but he ate a few more, knowing he needed the strength.
When he finished, Lucian laid on the hard, uneven ground, curling his knees close to his chest. The dirt beneath him felt cold, and the faint rustling of distant creatures reminded him that rest here was a luxury. The dim light from his orb flickered, casting jagged shadows on the towering trees around him.
Tears began to well in his eyes, unbidden. They slipped down his face, pooling in the hollow of his exhaustion and despair. His fingers dug into the soil as his chest heaved with suppressed emotion.
"I miss home so much," he whispered, the words trembling in the still air. The weight of his isolation pressed down on him. But even as the tears fell, somewhere deep within, a flicker of resolve burned inside him.