Chapter 50
The Forest of Dreams
Einver continued his journey without stopping. It had been two days since he left the City of Sunlight, yet he still had not reached the Forest of Dreams.
Strange and mysterious things… and such a beautiful name as well… Perhaps I will find some amusement in the Forest of Dreams… who knows… but what matters most is…
Einver smiled quietly as he lifted his head toward the clear blue sky above him, his face carrying a peaceful, serene expression:
I will live with everything I have.
After some time, he noticed his horse's fatigue from the long journey.
I must rest a while as well.
He looked around, and his eyes fell upon a medium-sized tree that nonetheless cast a wide, generous shade. He approached it and sat beneath its branches to take a short rest.
Einver did not carry much luggage; he had stored everything important inside his storage, including the Swift Sword Technique and the Communication Crystal.
Over the past two days, Einver had managed to master about fifty percent of the Swift Sword Technique.
The Swift Sword Technique isn't much different from some techniques in my world, though a few moves are unique. The speed of drawing the sword and striking in the second stage requires particular focus.
To master any technique, a fighter had to train in it both mentally and physically, grasping it fully at one hundred percent. So far, Einver had learned only half of it.
After resting for two hours, the sun began to sink slowly, painting the sky with enchanting golden and orange hues.
"Come on, my friend, let's go… the road is still long."
Einver mounted his horse once more and continued his journey with determination.
After three more hours of continuous riding, Einver reached a massive, towering gate made of iron, surrounded by colossal walls.
The walls rose no less than two hundred meters high, perhaps more, and seemed impenetrable. On their surface were countless scratches and marks from strikes, yet they remained unbroken, without a single crack. The walls were circular, enclosing something at their center—and that something was Einver's new destination: the Forest of Dreams.
Before the gate stood four people—three girls and one boy—speaking with an old man, who seemed to be insisting on something that displeased the youths.
Einver drew closer to see what the matter was, and whether he himself would be allowed to enter.
The first to notice him was the old man, who caught sight of a horse walking with steady, powerful steps, carrying a shadowy figure upon its back.
The figure was cloaked in black, wearing a straw hat that hid his face. When the wind pressed the cloak against his body, it revealed something wrong with his left hand—an injury or perhaps a flaw. His long black hair swayed with every current of wind. The group, however, drew none of the old man's attention, for he was gazing at something else intently.
Einver approached them, while the old man stood protectively before the youths, as if warning them of some beast, then turned his eyes to Einver with a mix of puzzlement and curiosity.
"What business does a ghost like you have, coming here?"
Einver halted, quickly arranged his words, then placed his right hand over his chest and lowered his head slightly to the old man:
"This traveler wishes to enter the Forest of Dreams, if possible."
He lifted his head and removed the straw hat, revealing his handsome, composed face, with a cloth bandage wrapped around his left eye.
The old man regarded him calmly and said:
"Have you not heard the news, ghost? Not just anyone can enter the Forest of Dreams. Entry has been forbidden due to the sheer number of the lost and the dead… If you value your life, turn back the way you came."
Einver looked at the old man with resolve:
"Is there truly no other way to enter the Forest of Dreams?"
The old man replied swiftly:
"If you wish to enter, you must do so as part of a team—at least five people, not alone."
Einver disliked this strange rule. He was always a lone player, never fond of joining groups, especially with strangers he did not know.
He wanted to speak, but before he could, one of the girls stepped forward and said:
"Traveler, why don't you join us? We are missing a member anyway, and cannot enter by ourselves unless we are five, as you just heard."
The boy quickly stepped up beside her, saying:
"What are you doing? Didn't we agree that only the four of us would search for the tr—"
Before he could finish, the second girl struck him and snapped:
"Shut your mouth, fool!"
She then smiled at the traveler and added:
"My sister is right. If you join us, we will be five, and then we can all enter."
Einver looked at them and felt something off, especially when he glanced at the old man, who returned a look that clearly said: Don't do it, boy.
Despite his wish to enter the Forest of Dreams alone, that was no longer an option—unless he wanted to make an entire city his enemy. So Einver accepted with a gentle smile:
"It would be an honor to join you, my friends."
The two girls smiled, the boy's expression turned ambiguous, but what drew Einver's curiosity was the gaze of the third girl. She was staring at him with a mix of fear and wonder, as though she saw something no one else could. Einver noticed, and she quickly lowered her head.
Strange…
The old man looked at them, then at Einver:
"Very well. According to the laws set by the city of Hino Hou, the City of the Fire Phoenix, since you are now a team of five, you may enter."
The old man turned toward the massive gate, placed his hands upon it, pressed his left foot firmly into the ground, and pushed. Within moments, the gate began to open. He turned back to them and said:
"You have one minute before the gate closes on its own."
The youths rushed inside, all but Einver, who looked at the old man and said:
"That was a powerful technique you just used, elder."
The old man smiled:
"There's no need to flatter me, boy. But let me give you some simple advice… beware of those four. They are the children of nobles from the City of Hino Hou. Do not toy with them, whatever they do. But to be honest, I don't think any of you will come out alive… This is the Forest of Dreams, not a park. Thousands have gone in, not a single one has returned… but it is my duty to warn you."
Einver smirked:
"Aren't you bright and cheerful, old man?"
The old man noted his unwavering composure, and Einver spoke again, his voice steady, a smile still on his face:
"Who knows… perhaps I'll die entering the Forest of Dreams, or perhaps I'll die at the hands of those treasure-hungry nobles… or perhaps, with sheer stubbornness, I'll come out alive no matter what happens. Old man, let me tell you something I once heard from a great person long ago: he said, It's hard to predict the world, but that is exactly what makes it fun… Don't you agree, old man?"
Einver moved quickly toward the gate, leaving his horse with the old man, and entered, his smile brimming with confidence.
Moments after he passed through, the gate shut behind him. But the old man remained standing for several minutes, staring into the emptiness, repeating to himself:
"It's hard to predict the world, but that is exactly what makes it fun."
He said it several times, then finally smiled and looked toward the gate:
"Survive, you damned ghost…"
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