Shadow

Nameless Dense Forest.

In this underdeveloped region far from the heart of civilization, nameless places like this could be found everywhere—though every piece of land had a lord, not every piece of land could be cultivated.

The kingdom had no spare manpower or resources to develop those border regions near the Gondor Wasteland. And because the elves had helped humanity construct the Great Wall, using the Sentinel Towers as nodes to encircle the entire Gondor Wasteland, the nations of the present age no longer needed to station excessive Troops along the border to deal with the occasional monsters wandering out of the wasteland. Thus, the borderlands had fallen into a vicious cycle of continual decline.

There was more than one route from Cecil Territory to Tanzan Town in the north, but crossing the woods to reach the main road was the shortest. Any other route either required going around the entire region or passing through even more dangerous lawless territory. Neither was a particularly wise choice.

The deeper they went into the woods, the dimmer the daylight became, while the thick layers of rotten leaves underfoot grew increasingly irritating. This could not yet be called a great forest, but a woodland left undisturbed by humans and allowed to grow wild had still broadened Gawain's horizons. In his previous life, he had lived in an artificial jungle cast from Reinforced Concrete. For many years after crossing over, he had only been able to observe this world from a perspective far too distant. Only now, setting foot in it himself, did he realize how shallow his imagination of the natural world had been.

Fortunately, he was gradually growing accustomed to this body. Its formidable physical strength and overall capabilities made the challenges of wilderness survival relatively easy to handle. Knight Byron and Amber, at his side, were also experienced in crossing mountains and forests, so the journey was not too terrible.

Heti, however, was having a harder time. Even though the Cecil Family had declined, it was still an ancient noble house directly loyal to the king. Born into such a family, Heti was a proper Noblewoman. Among nobles, this Lady could already be considered weathered and hardy, but in the face of nature's challenges, she still needed more experience.

Besides, a mage could not possibly have much stamina to begin with.

Rebecca's performance did surprise Gawain somewhat. This girl, who looked like an Earth high school student, had not fallen behind once. Running through a forest with no paths at all, she was no slower than the tall, burly soldiers. When Gawain asked about it, Rebecca answered somewhat awkwardly, "I was wild when I was little. I always ran around like the boys, and I even went into the forests in the territory to explore. I hadn't shown any magical talent back then, and Father thought I might be trained as a knight... I ended up disappointing him terribly. But even though I couldn't become a knight, I've always paid attention to exercise. The family teachings say that if you want to become a lord capable of protecting your subjects, you first need a strong body..."

Gawain silently nodded. Though this N+1th-generation great-granddaughter sometimes seemed like her head had been caught in a door, she was still quite simple and upright.

That was a rare thing among nobles.

The Nth-generation great-granddaughter beside him, who was nearly out of breath already, ought to learn from her.

"There may be some magical creatures deeper in these woods, but they won't be very strong," Knight Byron said as he lifted a black lump from the ground with his longsword. The lump slowly became transparent at the tip of his blade and gradually dissipated into the air. "The Shadow Element is concentrated here. There should be a natural Magic Power Focus in the center of the woods, though probably a very weak one."

"It's definitely weak," Amber said, spinning a delicate little dagger in her hand while scanning the surroundings. "If there were a high-quality Magic Power Focus here, the Arcane Society or Starcaller Association would have declared this place their territory since ancient times. And look at the plants around us... There aren't any obvious mutations. That means the elemental concentration here isn't even enough to affect flowers and grass."

Gawain looked at the two wilderness experts in surprise. "You two seem to know a lot?"

Rebecca glanced at Byron. "Before Uncle Byron swore loyalty to my father, he used to be a mercenary."

Byron did not seem accustomed to talking about the past. "That was all long ago, Lady."

The little dagger in Amber's hand spun even faster. "Tch, acting all world-weary. Who doesn't have a past?"

Although the Half-elf girl's face plainly said, "My past is amazing too, so hurry up and ask me," Gawain had no intention of playing along. After just a day and a half together, he had already learned enough about her temperament. Her extensive wilderness knowledge most likely came from being chased all over the city by patrols every few days and having no choice but to hide in the forests and survive in the wild. But if anyone actually asked, she certainly would not put it that way. She would definitely make up some thrilling, grand tale—like traveling across the entire continent and chatting cheerfully with the Elven King...

As they spoke, they made their way farther into the woods. The surrounding trees grew denser, and the daylight filtering through the canopy became increasingly sparse.

Gawain raised his head. Between the indistinct branches, that enormous sun had been split into countless tiny points of light. It was as if a giant bowl had been turned upside down over the sky, and the sunlight falling on them seemed to have grown colder.

Betty, the weakest among them, could not help sneezing. Her hands were so cold that she nearly dropped her frying pan.

Amber stopped spinning her dagger. She suddenly lowered her body, wariness flashing in her pale eyes. Looking at Gawain, she exhaled a puff of white breath as she spoke. "Don't you think... the temperature is a little too low now?"

Heti's gaze sharpened. The weariness from traveling was forcibly suppressed as she raised her staff and struck it hard against the ground, rapidly chanting an awkward incantation at the same time: Detect Distortion.

This was a general spell. It could be learned from the second level of formal mages onward, and even ninth-level Archmages had corresponding Spell Models for it. The spell had no offensive power. Its purpose was to detect concealed energy phenomena within a certain range, such as hidden magical traps or invisible Energy Fields. When cast fully, Detect Distortion could detect energy traces one level above the caster's own level—and Heti was a Third-level Mage.

In terms of class level, Heti, a Third-level Mage at the peak of the low ranks, was weaker than Byron, who had already entered the middle ranks, though only at the beginner stage. But in terms of magic's convenience and versatility, her spells could serve a greater purpose than brute force.

As Detect Distortion took effect, Gawain discovered that fog had risen around them.

No, it was not fog. It was spiritual energy that had previously been concealed, now dense enough to affect the Material Realm.

It gathered from every direction, continually concentrating and growing stronger. It had become so thick that they could barely see the trees several dozen meters away, and within the rolling pale mist, hazy shadows occasionally flickered past.

Betty's eyes widened in terror. She was about to scream when Gawain covered her mouth. "Shh. Don't make a sound. You'll alert the things in the fog."

The little girl's eyes were wide as tears nearly spilled out. Clutching her frying pan tightly, she nodded with all her strength.

Gawain could not help shaking his head. She had not cried in fright even when she saw a dragon before, yet now she was terrified like this. People really did have different weaknesses.

"What are these things?" Rebecca was also frightened. She gripped her staff tightly, tiny sparks already dancing at its tip. "When did we get... get surrounded by them?"

"Vengeful Spirit Mist. Damn it," Heti said through gritted teeth. "Why would there be something like this here?"

Vengeful Spirit Mist. Gawain had already found the relevant knowledge in his memories. It was something that could form naturally or be created artificially, with natural occurrences being more common. In places where Shadow Energy gathered and undead wandered, there was a very small chance that Vengeful Spirit Mist would appear. It was part of a shadow environment, but influenced by the aura of the undead, making it exceedingly destructive. Yet when this mist appeared, it was invisible—it formed and grew in the Spirit Realm, while in the Material Realm, people could not see even the slightest trace of it.

Unless the victims had already ventured deep into the mist.

It slowly killed those who wandered into it without realizing it, using low temperatures, hallucinations invading the mind, and fear to do so. Ordinary people who entered it often would not understand what had happened even at the moment of death, because they could see nothing until then.

The thick fog would only appear when their souls fell into the Shadow Realm, consuming all their final memories.

It was also possible to create Vengeful Spirit Mist artificially, but the conditions were excessively demanding. It required extraordinarily capable Spellcasters, yet its effects were inferior to most spells of the same level, so even those sinister necromancers would not waste their time on it.

Gawain had already drawn the Pioneer's Sword, but he did not attack. Vengeful Spirit Mist was unusual. Though anyone who entered its range would suffer harm, it did not initially attack on its own. Those injuries were merely its Inherent Attribute as a "hostile environment." Only when the "things" within the mist were disturbed would it become violent.

And once the Vengeful Spirit Mist went berserk, it was extremely difficult to deal with.

Gawain could not tell whether the mist had already been disturbed, so he did not order an attack. Instead, he cautiously searched for a weak point in the mist, preparing to break through when an opportunity arose. But just as he did so, a soft, ethereal laugh suddenly reached his ears from somewhere deep within the fog.

Damn it, we were actually played by a cloud of fog!

Gawain immediately raised his longsword and slashed toward the sound. A dark red blaze flew from the blade, splitting a vague image emerging from the mist in two.

"Focus fire on the one darting around in the fog wearing white!"