Overnight Advance

The night remained unchanged, but the fog was thickening. It no longer merely clung low to the ground; it slowly rose along the outer edge of the defensive line, swallowing what little moonlight remained. The wind from the forested sea still blew steadily, carrying a heavy sour stench like sediment churned up from the bottom of the water, mixed with the smell of rot and blood.

The air around the valley entrance was stifling, as though even the sound of the wind had been suppressed. From the high ground, it was already difficult to see beyond twenty meters. Even the marker stones for the traps had become blurry black shapes in the mist. The palms gripping the blades were slightly sweaty—not from nerves, but because the hot humidity had made the hilts slick.

Suddenly, the grass on the western side seemed to be violently pressed flat by some mysterious force. Blades that had been standing upright were instantly crushed down, as if an invisible giant hand had ground over them from above. Immediately afterward, several black shadows silently emerged from different places like ghosts. Their movements were swift and nimble, their speeds nearly identical, like a pack of well-trained hunters bearing straight down on the defensive line.

Yet before anyone could mobilize the defenses, a deep rustling of branches and leaves came from the southeast as well. The sound was exceptionally muffled, as though more than one massive creature was moving through the dense forest. Their footsteps were heavy and steady, each one leaving a deep print in the mud. Even through the thick fog, those dull thuds could be heard clearly.

At the same time, the front remained far from calm. A faint vibration came from deep within the fog, like the subtle sound of many claws gripping wet,