A few days later, on the northern border of the Dark Forest, deep within an unfrequented dense woodland.
The thick, seemingly endless milky white mist envelops this area year-round, blocking out sunlight and prying eyes.
At the center of this ethereal fog, a newly constructed small wooden cabin stands quietly, its raw wood color yet to be fully eroded by wind and rain, exuding a faint scent of timber and earth.
The furnishings inside the cabin are simple, yet warm and dry enough. Lynch walks up to the rough wooden table and gently places a few bottles of carefully mixed magic potions on it.
The liquid in the bottles displays various hues: one is imbued with a lively green, shimmering as if light points are floating within; another is milky white, thick in texture, emitting soothing waves; and there's also a faint gold one, akin to solidified sunlight.
