While the outskirts of the wilderness did not give any issues, the inner areas were entirely different. The negative energy seeped into the land was heavy and draining. Even just stepping into it, Damon could feel the hatred and resentment pressing in from all directions, like countless invisible eyes whispering curses into his bones.
This wasn't simple hostility. It was accumulated malice, the residue of countless deaths, betrayals, and unfinished wars that had soaked into the soil over eras. The mana here felt thick and sticky, refusing to flow cleanly.
Damon slowed his pace, his expression turning cold and focused. His body instinctively began to adapt, blood energy circulating on its own to filter out the worst of the influence. Even so, faint whispers brushed the edges of his consciousness, fragments of rage, despair, and madness that didn't belong to him.
Kill…
Burn…
Die with us…
