A forest shrouded in dense white mist stretched endlessly before him, swallowing the trees, the sky, and the very air itself. The fog was so thick that even the faintest outlines of the trees blurred into nothingness. The howling wind carried a strange, sorrowful melody, whispering through the trees like a ghostly lament.
It was said that anyone who entered would never return their souls forever trapped in an endless, shifting maze of mist and shadows. No one knew what lay beyond the fog, nor did anyone dare to find out.
Yet, at the edge of this dreaded place, a lone boy sat in silence.
His black hair was unkempt, tangled, and streaked with dirt. His eyes dark and reflective held a quiet weight far beyond his ten years of age. Dressed in a plain, tattered robe stained with dirt and dried blood, he looked too fragile to belong to such a cruel world.
And yet, this was his only path.
His name was Yuan.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his breath visible in the cold air. His hands, trembling from exhaustion, clenched into weak fists. His body ached, and his legs screamed for rest, but there was none to be found.
He could not afford to stop.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. His steps were unsteady, his limbs sluggish, but still, he moved forward. Step by step, he entered the Ghost Forest, vanishing into the endless white mist.
The further Yuan walked, the more unnatural the world became.
At first, the wind howled, filling the air with its haunting cries. Then, all sound vanished swallowed whole by the mist. His own footsteps became muted, as if the earth itself refused to acknowledge his existence.
The cold seeped into his bones.
His vision already limited blurred further. The mist thickened until he could see nothing. Not even the faint outline of a tree. It was as if he had been swallowed by a formless void.
Yet, he did not stop.
His mind drifted, memories surfacing through the haze of exhaustion.
He remembered the villagers' fear.
They told tales of the Ghost Forest of lost souls who wandered until madness took them, their final screams merging into the howling wind. Others spoke of a world beyond the mist, where beings unlike any human lived in secret. The most terrifying rumor, however, claimed that if one were to conquer the Ghost Forest, the world itself would begin to crumble.
But Yuan's grandfather had told him something different.
His grandfather spoke not of death, but of a forgotten past.
"Long ago, our ancestors fled into the Ghost Forest," he had said, his voice low and filled with mystery. "Not to be lost… but to hide from the outside world."
Yuan had listened, wide-eyed, as his grandfather described a world beyond imagination a place of boundless skies, towering mountains, and people who could soar through the heavens like birds.
But among all his grandfather's tales, one had haunted Yuan more than any other.
The legend of the Mist Tomb.
"Deep within the Ghost Forest, past the endless mist, lies an ancient mansion a place known as the Mansion of Countless Tombs.
"Beneath that mansion, hidden among endless stone chambers, lies a secret so great that those who seek it must sacrifice everything.
"It is a path of no return."
"The mist will deceive your eyes. The silence will devour your mind. The forest will make you turn back.
"Only those who continue forward, even in absolute darkness, will reach the truth."
"Many have tried. None have returned."Yuan had never forgotten those words.
He could have lived a quiet life in the village, pretending to be a normal boy. But his body refused to let him.
A sickness ate away at him a pain so deep, so relentless, that even his grandfather could not explain it. His head ached constantly, the dull pain creeping deeper into his skull with every passing day. Some mornings, he woke up unable to move, his limbs heavy as stone.
And he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to his core if it got any worse, he would never wake up again.
His body was dying.
But the Mist Tomb… was his only hope.
He walked on.
He ignored the pain in his chest, the way his vision darkened at the edges. The deeper he went, the less human he felt like a ghost drifting through a world without color, without sound, without time.
His senses began to fade.
First, the feeling in his hands dulled, his fingers growing numb.
Then, his sight blurred, the mist consuming his vision.
His ears heard nothing not even his own heartbeat.
Until finally, even his thoughts began to slip away.
There was nothing left but a single, fragile command echoing in his mind.
Walk.
And so, he did.
Minutes passed.
Then hours.
Then eternity.
Yuan forgot everything the village, his grandfather, even his own name.
And then… something changed.
The mist around him began to fade.
Slowly, the endless white fog thinned.
First, he saw the faint outlines of trees. Then, the wind returned a soft whisper against his skin. His sense of touch returned, bringing with it a deep, gnawing pain. His body ached as if he had been walking for days without rest.
Then, a metallic taste filled his mouth.
Blood.
Yuan coughed violently, crimson spilling from his lips. He staggered, barely managing to stay on his feet.
When he looked down, his breath caught in his throat.
So much blood.
His hands trembled. His chest heaved. Had his body truly suffered this much?
For the first time since entering the Ghost Forest… he felt fear.
His gaze drifted back to the mist behind him. What had just happened to him in there? How much time had passed?
He didn't know.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to.
But one thing was certain.
There was no turning back now.
Lifting his head, he saw it.
A massive stone gate loomed in the distance, towering over the landscape like a guardian of the unknown.
It was colossal so large that his entire village could have fit within its walls. The stone was black and yellow, covered in intricate carvings unlike anything he had ever seen. Strange paintings lined the massive doors figures that seemed to move when he wasn't looking.
Flanking the gate were two enormous stone pillars, standing like silent sentinels. Beyond them stretched an endless wall, blocking any view of what lay behind.
Yuan's breath hitched.
"Could this really be… the Mansion of Countless Tombs?"
His body screamed for rest. His mind begged him to turn back.
But instead, he stepped forward.
His back was straight. His eyes, though filled with exhaustion, held an unshakable resolve.
He had come too far.
There was only one path left to take.
And so, without hesitation, Yuan approached the Stone Gate.
Each step Yuan took, the world seemed to change around him.
The first step the air grew heavy, pressing down on his young body like an invisible weight.
The second step the wind, once howling, twisted into violent gusts, slashing at his skin as if trying to push him back.
The third step the very ground beneath him felt heavier, as though the forest itself wished to bury him alive before he reached his goal.
Yet, despite it all, he did not stop walking.
Pain clawed at every part of his body. His legs trembled, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his head oh, the unbearable pain in his head! It felt as if a thousand knives were stabbing into his skull, twisting deeper with every beat of his heart. He wanted to scream, but even that took too much strength.
And yet, he did not stop walking.
The gates loomed before him now massive, ancient, and unmoving. He could barely lift his head to look at them. His vision blurred, dark spots danced at the edges of his sight, and his mind begged him to stop.
But how could he?
If he stopped now, it would all be for nothing.
The stories his grandfather had told him of a world beyond this one, of endless skies and soaring beyond the clouds had kept him alive. They had filled his heart with a longing so deep it hurt more than his illness. Even now, as his body screamed in agony, as his vision blurred from exhaustion, his dream remained clear.
"I have to reach it…" Yuan thought, his lips too dry to even whisper the words.
Then, his body betrayed him.
His knees buckled. His strength gave out. And before he could react, he collapsed his head slamming against the cold, unyielding stone of the gate.
A sharp pain.
A gasp.
Then darkness.
As Yuan's small body crumpled against the gate, something shifted.
The countless paintings carved into the ancient stone dark figures, swirling symbols, lifelike images of beasts and gods began to glow. One by one, they flickered to life, their colors shining like stars in the night. The light, golden and endless, pulsed like a heartbeat.
And then, as if sensing his desperation, the glowing light rushed toward Yuan.
It wrapped around his fragile body, swirling like mist, sinking into his skin as if devouring him whole. His tiny form vanished into the radiance, swallowed by an ancient force that had lain dormant for centuries.
And then, as suddenly as it had started the light faded.
The gate returned to stillness. The howling wind softened. The crushing weight of the air disappeared.
It was as if nothing had ever happened.
But Yuan… was gone.