Immortal Bandits had come not for the first time. They moved forward on their well-trodden path. Along the way, she felt an untold number of scrutinizing gazes; these gazes harbored no hostility, nor any kindness, they did not even hold curiosity, only profound indifference.
The deeper they went into the mountain range, the taller and more entangled the trees became, their branches and leaves woven into an impenetrable canopy above. The light deteriorated accordingly, and although it was supposed to be the brightest at noon, the dense forest was as dim as dusk, making it difficult for ordinary people to even see the grass roots tripping them on the ground. Mists curled between the trees accompanied by the chirping of insects and the singing of birds, truly a typical tropical forest scene.
