After their walk, they returned to Arthur's house to rest, preparing for the next day. Shun soaked himself in the bath, but a sudden drowsiness pulled him into a nightmare of unparalleled terror.
He saw a massive man, his body coated in dark, dried blood, eyes blazing red like the fires of hell, unblinking, staring directly at him. His heart felt crushed, each beat pounding violently, hot blood rushing to his head. Shun swallowed nervously, his voice trembling:
- "W…who…are you…?"
Before any answer could come, a scream echoed from all directions, slicing through his flesh and ears, as if tearing his mind apart:
- "RUN!! SHUN… RUN!! DO NOT LOOK BACK!! RUN!!…"-
His legs went weak, his head spun, nausea clawing at his stomach as if trying to expel his very soul. It felt like he was being pulled into a bottomless chasm where space and time merged into one.
Looking up, he saw Julie – the woman who had appeared in his previous mission dream – struggling to push the man away. Her body trembled, her eyes filled with panic, and it seemed the very forces around her were tearing her apart, fiber by fiber. Suddenly, Shun's own body moved against his will, his hands clamping around his neck. He felt his bones splintering, blood and stifled breaths merging into a horrifying sound echoing inside his skull.
The man swung his sword through Julie. There was no blood—only her body dissolving into thick, black vapors that reeked of decay, making Shun feel as if he were drowning in the realm of the dead. Julie's screams reverberated in his mind, both agonizing and hollow, making Shun feel the despair of the entire universe pressing down upon him in every instant.
He struggled, trying to regain control, but every movement was crushed by an invisible force, his heart threatening to burst. Suddenly, Myria's voice pierced the nightmare, pulling him back to reality. Shun jerked upright, drenched in sweat, his heart racing as if escaping his chest. Handprints scorched his neck where he had choked himself, skin red and trembling. Looking down, the bathwater had turned thick and black, flowing sluggishly like tar, exuding the stench of death.
In the heavy silence, Shun realized the most horrifying truth: this was not merely a nightmare. It was a warning from the realm of the dead—a message that this world held no escape, and the horror was only beginning.
Myria noticed Shun's unusual expression — his face pale, his breath unsteady. She sat down beside him, her eyes sharp and serious:
-"Shun… what exactly happened in that dream of yours?"
Shun remained silent for a long moment, then slowly began to recount the nightmare in its entirety. Each word he spoke pulled the room deeper into a suffocating chill. When he mentioned the blood-soaked man and Julie being torn apart into streams of black mist, Myria shuddered. Her eyes flickered with unease, yet she maintained her calm facade.
Her voice grew stern:
- "Don't let Mye hear about this. She's not ready to face that kind of darkness."
Shun nodded, wiping the cold sweat from his brow, quickly putting his clothes back on. When he turned back to the bath, his breath caught in his throat — the water, once thick and pitch black, had returned to its crystal clarity, as if nothing had ever happened. A chill ran down his spine. He swallowed hard, the unnerving sensation gnawing at him — as though something far beyond his comprehension had been mocking him.
By noon that day, the group made their decision: they would venture into the forest — the source of every unanswered mystery. The air in the village remained heavy with dread, yet no one dared to stop them; the villagers only watched from a distance, their silence louder than words.
Shun carried a dagger, its steel glinting beneath the sharp sunlight, ready to cut through anything that crossed their path. Mye donned a light suit of armor that hugged her frame, the faint clatter of its metal plates sounding with each step. Myria held only her silver-coated staff and a mysterious black tome, its thick leather cover exuding an aura of ancient curses.
When the three finally stood before the forest's edge, a frigid wind swept out from within — like the breath of some colossal beast in slumber — carrying with it the stench of damp rot and shadow. The dense canopy above swallowed all traces of daylight, turning the forest into an artificial night, where even the echo of footsteps was devoured by an oppressive silence.
And in that moment, they knew — from this step onward, there was no turning back.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the air grew heavy, suffocating in its silence. There were no bird calls, no scurrying of small creatures, not even the rasp of a crow. It was as though life itself had been drained from the land. Towering trees loomed overhead, their branches intertwining so densely that the sky disappeared, leaving only a curtain of black-green shadows. The faint rustle of leaves was not from the wind, but something else — something crawling, watching, waiting.
The deeper they went, the stronger the stench became. It reeked of rot, iron, and damp soil soaked with things that should have stayed buried. The ground was littered with carcasses of animals, sprawled in grotesque positions. Some were half-eaten, their rib cages cracked open like broken cages. Others were shriveled, as if their very flesh had been sucked out, leaving only skin stretched thin over brittle bones. Empty sockets gaped upward, as though the creatures had died staring into some unspeakable horror. Their entrails had spilled across the ground like rancid threads, weaving a tapestry of decay that clung to the group's boots.
Shun clenched his teeth, the bile rising in his throat, and instinctively reached out to grip Mye's hand. He feared she would falter at the sight, that she would tremble and collapse under the weight of such madness. Yet when he glanced at her, Mye's eyes were steady, calm in a way that unsettled him. She had changed. Where once she might have clung to him for comfort, now she walked forward with quiet resolve, as though death itself had become too familiar to frighten her.
But the forest was not still.
Every so often, Shun felt it — the subtle brush of unseen eyes crawling over his skin, the pressure of something vast and hidden observing from the shadows. Myria paused often, her staff glowing faintly as she whispered incantations under her breath, trying to dispel the aura pressing in on them. But no spell seemed to work. The forest itself was alive, its trees groaning as though whispering in a tongue too old to comprehend.
At one point, a branch cracked beneath Shun's boot, and the sound echoed unnaturally loud, bouncing off the trees like a scream. In the distance, the leaves shifted — not with the breeze, but as though something massive had slithered past, just beyond their sight. The carcasses around them seemed to hum with that same silence, as if even in death, the animals knew better than to speak.
And with every step deeper, the feeling grew stronger:
They were not intruding on a mere forest.
They were walking into the mouth of something alive — and it was waiting for them to reach its heart.
From deep within the darkness, the group froze in unison. Amidst the deathly silence, a colossal figure emerged. It did not move closer, nor did it utter a sound, yet its gaze — two hollow eyes glowing cold and bright like the flames of hell — bore straight into them.
Shun's breath caught. His skin turned icy, sweat dripping down his forehead and back, his heart pounding as if it would burst out of his chest. This wasn't ordinary fear; it was primal instinct being forced to kneel before an apex predator. His legs nearly buckled, his grip on the dagger trembled so violently that the steel sang with a faint, metallic ring.
Myria, in stark contrast, did not flinch. Her face remained composed, her eyes calm and unwavering as they pierced through the thick black mist. Slowly, she raised her staff, the tip glowing with a cold silver light.
In that instant, the towering shadow shuddered violently, as though exposed, before dissolving into fragments of mist that faded into nothingness. No footsteps, no sound — only the suffocating silence that grew heavier than before.
Shun stood rooted in place, gasping for breath, his heart still imprisoned by terror's grip. He turned to Myria, his eyes wide, overflowing with dread and confusion.
Lowering her staff, Myria's voice rang out, cold and decisive:
- "Someone is manipulating your senses and mind, Shun. What you just saw… was never real."
She paused, then fixed her gaze on him, her voice dropping lower, like a blade cutting straight into his chest:
-"It doesn't conjure illusions at random… it awakens what you fear most. Every time you tremble, every time you lose control… you're handing yourself over to it."
Her words struck him silent. In that moment, Shun realized that the true enemy wasn't only lurking outside — it was buried deep within his own mind. If he couldn't overcome his deepest fears… then even with a dagger in hand, he was nothing more than prey, offering himself to death.
Quietly, Mye reached out and clasped Shun's trembling hand, her eyes steady, as though willing him away from the abyss. But Shun only felt it more vividly than ever: this forest was no mere dwelling of shadows — it was a warped mirror, reflecting the darkest fears within their souls.
Shun walked on, struggling to steady his ragged breathing, before finally asking in a hushed voice:
-"Myria… is there truly anyone who possesses the power to manipulate others?"
Myria, walking just ahead, did not turn back. Her voice, calm yet chilling, cut into Shun's mind like the edge of a knife:
- "The ability to control or manipulate the body… or even the soul itself… belongs to the rank of Outer Sorcery. Those who wield it are the ones who have sold their souls to demons in exchange for power that no human should ever hold."
Shun felt cold sweat running down his temples. His hand trembled slightly, as though his own body was betraying his will.
Beside him, Mye quickly grasped his hand, whispering with steady determination:
- "You'll get through this, Shun. These illusions won't last forever… I believe in you."
Shun forced a strained smile and gave a faint nod, though deep down he knew he was teetering on the edge of despair.
Suddenly, the three of them froze. The air itself had grown so heavy that each breath echoed like a warning.
Myria raised her staff, silver light flickering at its tip, wavering as though the surrounding darkness was trying to devour it. Her face hardened, her sharp eyes narrowing as she fixed her gaze straight ahead.
Mye lifted her hand as well, a swirl of natural energy coiling tightly in her palm, glowing with a fragile yet determined light.
Shun gripped his dagger tighter, the steel vibrating faintly in rhythm with the chaos of his heartbeat. His eyes widened, throat dry, as if an invisible hand had clamped around it.
He swallowed hard, his voice trembling but resolute:
- "That… that's not an illusion anymore… is it?"
With shaky steps, he raised a trembling finger and pointed forward.
Out of the suffocating darkness, a colossal monster emerged — its body warped and towering, as if molded from human bones and congealed blood. In its hand, it held a massive katana, longer than Shun's entire height, the blade reflecting a pale, merciless gleam, as though it sought to devour every shred of hope that dared to exist.