Shadows of the Forest Sea

Dawn was just breaking, and the mist outside the camp seemed pressed down a layer, flowing slowly along the ground. The campfire from the night had long since gone out, leaving a few whitened coals in the stone ring that crumbled into powder at the slightest touch. There was not much water left in the canteen, and its icy taste slid down the throat, waking up a brain still carrying fatigue.

Today, I decided to head to the Forest Sea on the northern side for some exploration. There was a certain distance between that Forest Sea and the valley, but it was the inevitable path of the wind. If the things in the nest expanded their range of activity, this place would inevitably become the route they had to pass through.

For the sake of mobility, I simplified my equipment as much as possible. Twin blades hung at my waist, while my backpack loaded only some dry rations, a small amount of water, and spare bandages. With everything ready, I stepped out of the valley mouth.

However, no sooner had I stepped out of the valley than a low humming sound reached my ears. The sound felt like the wind swirling in the valleys, yet it also seemed somewhat unusual. Its position was not fixed, sometimes seeming to be in the front-left, and other times shifting to the right.

I could not help stopping in my tracks, pressing my body against a thick pine tree and listening quietly to this mysterious sound. After about half a minute, the sound gradually dissipated, as if it had never appeared at all.

The entrance to the Forest Sea was a gentle slope, the ground covered with thick fallen leaves that produced a muffled echo when stepped on. The tree trunks were tall and