The forest was quiet.
Each step Noel took echoed softly against the damp earth, the crunch of twigs and leaves swallowed by the heavy stillness that hung over the trail. Ahead of him, Albrecht walked with his usual composure, not sparing a glance back.
"Where exactly are we going?" Noel finally asked.
His father didn't slow down. "You'll see soon enough."
Typical.
Noel's eyes flicked to the sides of the path. The deeper they went, the older everything seemed—massive oaks with bark blackened by age, roots twisting through cracked stone, the faint hum of mana leaking from beneath the soil. The air was thick with it, almost oppressive.
'This place… it isn't in the novel,' Noel thought, frowning. 'Not even mentioned.'
They passed under a crooked archway half-swallowed by vines. Strange glyphs were carved along the stone—eroded, unreadable, yet faintly glowing under the filtered sunlight. The further they went, the more they looked like graves rather than markings.
