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墨書 Inktalez
“Don’t let it get close!” the Elf shouted, its claws slicing through the air as it swiftly blocked the monster’s attack.
Evan stood frozen, watching the battle unfold before him, his mind a blank. The creature moved with astonishing speed, its claws nearly grazing the Elf's body, sharp talons tearing through the air.
Suddenly, the Elf let out a fierce roar, its claws striking the monster's abdomen with force. The creature lost its balance and crashed to the ground, emitting a pained howl.
Evan took a deep breath, finally regaining some composure. “What... what is it?”
The Elf panted heavily as it slowly rose. “Guardians of the Mist. They are protectors of this forest, and once they sense an intruder, they will attack.”
“What about us?” Evan asked. “Can we leave this place?”
The Elf glanced at him, determination flashing in its eyes. “Leaving is possible, but you must move faster. The ‘Source Point’ isn’t far; we need to keep going.”
Evan’s heart raced; even though the monster had been repelled, the shadow of fear still loomed over him. He felt his legs growing weak, every nerve in his body taut with alertness. Yet he knew there was no turning back—he had to press on, to delve deeper into this misty forest in search of the forgotten ‘Source Point.’
He looked at the Elf beside him, that seemingly calm creature whose tail brushed lightly against the ground, yet there was no sign of relaxation in its eyes. Despite its outward appearance of composure, Evan understood that the Elf was also experiencing tension and danger.
“Keep moving,” the Elf said firmly, its gaze fixed ahead. “The monsters won’t give up easily; they will continue to track our scent until we leave this forest.”
Evan took a deep breath, feeling the humidity and pressure in the air. He struggled to steady his breathing and maintain his calm. “If we can escape this forest, will we really find that ‘Source Point’?” he asked, a hint of barely concealed hope in his voice.
The Elf looked at him with a complex expression in its eyes. “The ‘Source Point’ is not a simple place; it is the source of your power and the origin of your bloodline. It can grant you boundless strength or plunge you into an irretrievable abyss.” Its voice was deep and resonant, sounding both like a warning to Evan and encouragement for itself.
Evan felt the call of that power growing stronger, as if each step propelled him toward that unknown destination. Despite the countless questions and anxieties swirling within him, he knew there was only one way forward—there was no chance for retreat.
"Let's go!" Aiven suddenly exclaimed, clenching his fists, his eyes shining with determination.
Elf nodded and led Aiven onward. Guided by the sound of the bell, the scenes in the mist gradually became clearer, but with each step, the air around them seemed to grow heavier. Occasionally, they caught glimpses of shadows flitting in the distance, but each time the bell rang, the illusions would vanish. However, Aiven knew that the true dangers lurking in the mist were far from over.
"We're about to enter the 'Source Point' area," Elf whispered. "The mist will become denser here, and the illusions and obstacles will be more intense."
Aiven paused for a moment, gazing ahead at what appeared to be an even more desolate region. The trees were sparse, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of decaying leaves, resembling a lifeless wasteland. Occasionally, a gust of wind would blow through, rustling the leaves, yet there were no signs of life.
"We must be cautious and stay alert," Elf said gravely. "This area is not one we can traverse carelessly; every step could lead to deadly danger."
Aiven took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the rune in his hand. He understood that this forest never treated intruders kindly, and he could no longer turn back.
They pressed on, the mist thickening around them as if some invisible force was distorting the air. Aiven began to feel dizzy; the ground beneath him seemed unstable, occasionally vibrating as if the earth were sleeping or quietly warning them.
Suddenly, Aiven's vision blurred, and the scene before him began to feel unreal. A dark figure emerged from the mist, and instinctively, Aiven halted in his tracks.
"Do you see it?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly as the figure swayed like an illusion, its indistinct outline seemingly drawing closer.
Elf grabbed his arm firmly, eyes alert. "Don't look at it; that's a phantom of the mist. It feeds off your inner fears and desires. Do not trust what you see."
Aiven's heart raced as the figure became clearer—a frail old man in tattered robes with deep wrinkles etched into his face and hollow eyes devoid of life.
"Aiven..." The old man's voice was low and ancient, as if it came from underground. "You’ve taken a wrong turn; turn back. This is not where you belong. You do not belong in this forest."
Aiven felt a rush of pressure in his head as the old man seemed to draw nearer; his breathing quickened. Suddenly, a voice echoed deep within him: "Turn back; you cannot continue down this path. None of this is your destiny."
He hesitated for a moment, his footsteps slightly pausing. The voice felt like a warning from deep within him, urging him to return to safety, to go back to his old life. However, when he looked down at the Elf beside him and saw its resolute gaze, Aiven's heart seemed to find its direction once more.
"I can't turn back," Aiven said firmly. "I have a responsibility to seek out that Source Point and discover my true identity."
He took a deep breath, fighting against the temptation to retreat, forcing himself to focus and heed the Elf's warning. "Let's go. We must continue."
The Elf nodded, shifting its gaze away from the illusion and leading Aiven deeper into the unknown. Just as they took their next steps, the old man from the illusion let out a low sigh and gradually faded into the mist.
Aiven's heartbeat began to normalize, but he knew this was only part of the Misty Forest; the real trial had only just begun.
They pressed on, with endless mist and ever-changing trees ahead of them. With each step, Aiven could feel a profound power emanating from the earth, as if the entire world was waiting for him to unveil this secret.
Suddenly, through the mist ahead, a beam of light pierced through layers of fog, illuminating an ancient stone door. Intricate runes were carved into its surface; their shapes were twisted and unfamiliar, brimming with unknown power. The light seemed to beckon him, guiding him toward that elusive Source Point.
The Elf stopped and turned to Aiven. "We’ve arrived, Aiven. That Source Point is just ahead. Are you ready?"
Aiven's gaze was fixed on the light; his heartbeat quickened once more, but this time he felt no fear. Whatever lay before him, he would face it head-on.
"I'm ready," Aiven's voice was as steadfast as iron.
The Elf nodded and led him toward the radiant stone door.
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