The thick forest covered a lot of area, and in the far distance, the floating islands loomed in the air. Jorghan looked up; the light was going away.
Soon it will be dark.
He was looking around, staying on his guard. When he fell, he got few injuries, and if it wasn’t for his sturdy body, he would have died when he hit the ground. He was alive with a few scratches here and there, nothing major. And also, the last-minute wind magic had helped him reduce the force of his fall.
In his state of anger, he didn’t even notice the two brothers ing from behind and caught him off guard.
He would deal with them when he got to the floating islands, but for now, his focus was on the surroundings, and he needed to stay alert.
Because this wasn’t an ordinary forest.
But a habitat of the most dangerous beasts of the realm.
The massive trees of the West Woods towered above him, their twisted trunks glowing faintly with raw mana. Strange luminous fruits hung from branches, providing just enough light to see as the sun began to set.
"There has to be a way back," he muttered to himself, pushing aside a curtain of hanging vines.
He had been walking for hours, trying to find the beast on which he flew. It must have been injured and dead by the fall. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to see, and if it was alive by chance, it would take him back.
But the West Woods seemed designed to confuse visitors—landmarks appeared similar, paths curved back on themselves, and the vegetation grew thicker the more he tried to press forward.
As daylight faded pletely, the forest transformed.
Plants that had been dormant during the day now opened glowing blossoms, bathing the woods in an eerie blue light. Sounds changed too—the rustling being more pronounced, small scurrying noises following him from thicket to thicket.
Jorghan felt exposed and vulnerable.
"Fucking brats!" He spat, thinking about how they lured him away.
His mana reserves were still strong—the training with Sigora had built his capacity beyond what was normal for his age—but he had limited bat skills. She had focused on control rather than attack, always telling him that mastery of self must e before mastery of offensive magic.
He stopped; he felt something, a presence.
He wasn’t alone.
The bushes to his right rustled violently.
Jorghan turned just as a massive shape burst through the foliage—a horned serpent, its scaled body as thick as a horse’s, with two curved horns jutting from its head. Its eyes glowed red in the dim light, fixed directly on him.
"For fuck’s sake!" Jorghan shouted, summoning a ball of fire in his hand.
The serpent hissed, unimpressed by the display. It lunged forward with shocking speed, jaws wide open to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth.
"An anaconda with horns, really!"
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