The forest canopy swayed in silence, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves stirred by Noah's movements. He stood still for a breath, listening, his hand gripping the hilt of Nemesis. The corpses of the two High Orcs he had just slain bled onto the moss, their blood forming pools that steamed faintly under the cold night.
But the world did not allow him rest.
The forest floor trembled. A pulse reverberated through the earth, rattling roots and shaking loose leaves from above. Noah's sharpened senses picked it up instantly — not one enemy, not a handful, but a multitude.
"This floor is about countless wave attacks," Noah murmured, eyes narrowing.
