On the ground, the 【Firelight Mark】 Severn left behind quickly extinguished.
The path that had just been illuminated vanished along with it.
The group froze in place, cold sweat drenching their backs.
Reece bent down to pick up the staff Severn had dropped near a crack in the stone.
A hairline crack had split across the staff's surface. He tried to channel mana into it, and the staff flickered weakly.
A tiny, dim spark of yellow fire emerged from the tip of the staff, only to be instantly compressed by the fog to the size of a bean.
It was far dimmer than when Severn had held it. Let alone illuminating the path, this speck of light could barely outline their silhouettes.
Ryan's hand, poised on his bowstring, froze in midair as he swept his gaze over their surroundings.
Without Severn's scouting light and Damon's defense, the world around them seemed to have lost its boundaries all at once, leaving him with an extreme sense of insecurity.
“What do we do now?” He paused, then asked, “Which way should we go?”
No one answered him. At this moment, everyone's expression was grim as they listened warily to the faint rustling of twigs scraping against the stone slabs in the mist.
It sounded like countless fingernails scratching closer and closer toward them.
The terrified Milo swayed slightly, and the six cargo chests behind him shifted with his movement.
Reece gripped his sword hilt, his mind racing as he gritted his teeth.
He was the Acting Caravan Master, but without a Lantern Bearer, the caravan was no different from being blind in a place like this.
Suddenly, a ghost hand reached out from the mist, crawling along the ground toward one of the cargo chests.
Reece swung his sword violently, severing the ghost hand, but two more reached out from the opposite side at the same time.
Ryan immediately shot an arrow, pinning one ghost hand down, but the other burst from beneath a crack in the stone, grabbing Milo's ankle.
Milo nearly shrieked. Kolo, being the closest, swung her axe down.
The ghost hand was severed, black sap splashing all over the ground.
Yet even more rustling sounds echoed from the mist, like giant serpents lurking in the dense fog, ready to strike at any moment.
Holding the staff, Reece suddenly turned to Rena.
“You take it.”
Ryan whipped his head around to look at her. “Her?”
Reece explained briefly, “She is the Guide. Right now, she's the only one in the party suited to lead the way.”
Rena did not refuse. She reached out and took the cracked staff from Reece's hand.
Reece asked, “Can you light it?”
Rena glanced at the tip of the staff. “I'll try.”
Her fingers gripped the shaft as she channeled a wisp of holiness-imbued magic through her palm and into the staff.
The dim light shattered the darkness and shuddered.
The faint yellow spark that was on the verge of dying out was gradually compressed into a colder, white light.
The white light was not blinding, yet it was so clean it felt almost sharp.
As the white light touched the fog, the mist recoiled to both sides as if scorched, retreating a short distance.
Ryan's grip on his bow tightened, and Milo froze in a daze.
Rena gripped the staff, giving them no opportunity to ask further questions.
“I'll clear the path ahead,” she said, stepping into the mist. “If you can't keep up, you're on your own.”
With that, she bolted forward, the white light carving a cold line through the fog.
The others had no time to think and could only give chase.
“Keep up!” Reece barked sharply.
Milo gritted his teeth, dragging the six cargo chests as he ran.
The chests slid rapidly across the stone slabs, emitting a series of hurried, creaking noises.
Ryan fired arrows while retreating, fending off the ghost hands lunging from both sides.
Kolo charged near the front flank, her heavy axe continuously hacking away the branches blocking their path.
Rena ran at the very front with the staff held high. Every step she took perfectly avoided the cracked stone crevices and the edges of the rotting leaves.
At the absolute front of Rena's run, she had actually already sent out several Soul Threads sliding along the stone slabs to scout the way ahead for her.
A ghost hand lunged from the mist on the left, its five fingers splayed as it reached straight for her shoulder.
Without turning her head, Rena simply pressed the staff downward, the white light brushing past the edge of the ghost hand.
At the same time, a few Soul Threads wrapped around some roots lunging from the side and yanked hard.
The section of root bent violently in midair, slamming directly into the wrist of the ghost hand.
Knocked off course, the ghost hand swiped empty air, brushing past Rena's cloak.
In the next instant, Kolo's heavy axe swung down from behind, splitting it in two.
Kolo's footsteps faltered. She had caught a trace of holiness coming from that staff.
Could it be her?
She glanced at Rena's back, but the fog ahead was churning violently, leaving her no time to ponder.
“Right side!” Ryan suddenly shouted.
From the dense fog on the right, over a dozen ghost hands crawled out simultaneously.
They were no longer attacking randomly. Instead, they overlapped with one another like a net woven from dead branches, dropping straight toward Milo and the cargo chests.
Milo's footsteps faltered, causing the six cargo chests to veer off course.
Reece barked, “Keep it steady!”
Rena's fingertips tightened slightly. Several Soul Threads swept across the ground, wrapping around the knuckles of the foremost two ghost hands before violently yanking them in the opposite direction.
Before the net of ghost hands could fully descend, it was pulled askew by its own force, crashing heavily onto the middle of the stone path.
Seizing the opportunity, Kolo swept her heavy axe in a wide arc, tearing a gap right through the net of ghost hands and charging through.
Reece dragged Milo along, following Kolo through the gap.
The cargo chests behind Milo were pulled forward in a wild rush, smashing through several branches along the way.
“Don't stop! Keep running!” Rena called out from the front.
Those behind her sprinted at full speed, none of them daring to stop.
The white light pressed steadily forward through the mist.
The ghost hands behind them seemed to be thoroughly enraged, the rustling sounds growing increasingly dense.
Ryan had emptied more than half of his quiver, his fingers rubbed raw and bleeding from the bowstring.
Isolde glanced at the roots beginning to coalesce ahead. She extended her Soul Threads along the white light of the staff, letting them stretch forward like fine filaments hidden within the glow.
Using her staff-swinging motions as cover, she repeatedly threw the lunging ghost hands off course.
She made them collide with each other, tangle in dead branches, or claw at empty air.
Ryan's chest ached from panting. He chased the speck of white light ahead as if pursuing the final rope that could pull them out of the mist.
“Ahead!” he suddenly shouted. “The road marker!”
Deep within the mist, a blurry dark shadow indeed emerged.
The eighth road marker.
It stood in the deeper mist, its surface completely unlit, yet it was everyone's hope at this moment.
Reece shouted hoarsely, “Charge!”
At his command, everyone ran forward with all their might.
Just as they rushed in front of the eighth road marker, a scalp-tingling rustle of branches suddenly echoed from behind.
Milo's legs buckled, and he nearly tumbled.
“They're catching up...”
Rena did not look back; she simply held the staff even higher.
The white light flared brilliantly for an instant, forcing the last few lunging ghost hands back.
Kolo and Reece struck almost simultaneously, hacking away the branches wrapping around the cargo chests.
The six cargo chests rolled past the final section of stone slabs and came to a halt in front of the eighth road marker.
In the next instant, the mist stopped abruptly, as if slamming into an invisible barrier.
The ghost hands stopped outside the road marker's boundary, their knuckles scraping fruitlessly against the edges of the stone slabs, yet they did not advance any further.
The group finally came to a halt.
Milo's legs gave out, and he only managed to avoid falling to his knees by leaning against a nearby cargo chest.
Ryan leaned against a broken pillar, panting heavily.
Reece held his nicked broadsword, his chest heaving violently.
Kolo propped her heavy axe on the ground, but she did not move away from her position.
Standing a half-step away near the front flank of the group, she scrutinized Rena.
Rena lowered the staff, and the white light gradually dimmed.
Behind the mist beyond the eighth road marker, the central ancient tree was finally revealed in its entirety.
It was so massive it hardly looked like a tree.
It resembled a black tower rising from the depths of the earth.
Its trunk was so thick that even a dozen people might not be able to wrap their arms around it.
The bark was cracked, and tiny, golden specks of light constantly seeped from the fissures.
These specks of light flowed slowly along the roots like sand, or like dying embers.
The roots coiled all around the ancient tree, layer upon layer, like countless thick black serpents.
And tangled among those roots were carriages, cargo chests, shredded caravan flags, and familiar corpses.
Ryan gripped the broken pillar, remaining motionless for a long time. “They...”
The rest of his words caught in his throat.
Mist drifted out from the base of the ancient tree, flowing slowly along the ground and carrying a nauseating stench of decay.
Reece walked up to Ryan's side. He stared at the ancient tree not far away, and only after a long silence did he speak slowly:
“They... have all become nourishment for the treants.”
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