Something felt off. It had been understandable when there were no sentries, but now they were close enough to make out the strings of dried food hanging in the windows, and still hadn't seen a single living person. Forget hidden lookouts—there wasn't even anyone openly standing watch up high.
This completely contradicted their understanding of how the Heretics operated. This was an organization that could even arrange an ambush at an illicit river crossing used by smugglers. Given the size of this forest village, its population would have taken at least several years to build up, and some irreplaceable supplies would have to be brought in from outside. Near-total isolation made it an ideal place to spread the faith.
Like a hunter lost in the forest stumbling into a mirage, an entire village emerged from the dense backdrop of trees and appeared before them.
An ominous quiet settled between the buildings. Once the halted group instinctively stopped talking, it blended with the forest's atmosphere and congealed into a deathly silence that confronted them. A powerful sense of being watched surged in from every direction.
The utter stillness made no one dare act rashly. They felt trapped in place, as if caught in an invisible swamp. They held their breath, listening only to their own faint breathing and pounding heartbeats.
Then someone couldn't hold back any longer and sneezed, breaking the stalemate. He tried hard to stifle it, but the rush of air through his clenched teeth still carried a long way through the forest—far enough that, in such silence, anyone who might be in the village could hear it.
Nothing happened.
Everyone turned toward the sound and glared at the fellow, who was covering his mouth with a horrified look.
Still, that oppressive feeling had eased somewhat. Perhaps the only