Yang Qing and the others followed the narrow path around the edge of the woods.
They wanted to leave that forest behind.
They had expected the journey to be anything but smooth, yet, to their surprise, they actually made it out.
Looking at the forest now far behind them, Bu Er let out a breath of relief.
Everything he had seen and heard these past days had left him incredulous.
If he had never believed in ghosts and gods before, he believed in them now.
Perhaps only with reverence in one's heart could one show greater compassion toward all things in the world.
Yang Qing's expression remained unruffled, but turmoil churned ceaselessly in his heart.
They had spent so long rushing about that forest without finding a way out, yet this time, simply walking around it had broken the trap?
Something was wrong.
But all that lay before them was an open stretch of land, already some distance from the forest.
It hardly made sense to say they were still trapped within that tiny patch of ground.
Eternal Gaze—this curse was said to have been lost for over a thousand years, with no one left in the world who could wield it.
Yet what they had encountered was unmistakably that very curse.
And it had appeared several hundred years ago.
By that reasoning, someone had deliberately sought it out to use on the people of the Hard Tribe.
But why here, of all places?
And why had they, too, happened to arrive here?
What had they overlooked before? What had slipped past their notice?
Yang Qing felt as though a bank of mist drifted before his eyes, its dim, wavering shapes impossible to make out.
But having come this far, turning back was not an option.
Nor could they retreat.