The golden afterglow of the setting sun bathed the stone walls of Carmen City in a warm radiance. The once-bustling streets were gradually quieting down as the crowds dispersed. On the stone steps before the Adventurers’ Guild, Sern and Qian sat side by side, carefully inspecting the supplies they had just purchased.

  "Are you sure this will be enough?" Qian asked, eyeing the items laid out before her—several rolls of bandages, two bottles of healing potion, three packs of dried rations, and a small pouch of magical powder meant to purify water. She shook the nearly empty coin pouch. “Only two copper coins left. Not even enough for lodging.”

  Stars began to shimmer in the twilight sky like silent watchers of the night. Sern looked up at the darkening heavens. “We can stay at the church tonight. If we leave early in the morning, we’ll reach the Trial Forest by dusk.”

  “Let’s just hope Sister Antonia doesn’t mind us bothering her again,” Qian said with a playful wink as she packed the supplies back into her bag. “She always calls me a ‘troublemaker,’ but I know she misses us.”

  With their things in order, they walked through the quieting streets toward Saint Margaret’s Church in the eastern quarter. The spire loomed solemnly in the dusk, and the stained-glass windows glowed faintly under the starlight, as if whispering an ancient, sacred tale.

  As Qian had predicted, Sister Antonia greeted them with a feigned scolding—“You little troublemakers, here for another free stay?”—but she had already prepared clean bedding and a steaming pot of pumpkin soup.

  During dinner, Sern inquired about the Trial Forest.

  “The Trial Forest?” Sister Antonia’s brow furrowed with concern. “There has indeed been unrest lately. Allen the forester mentioned something odd last time he came to town.”

  “What kind of odd?” Sern asked softly, his eyes reflecting a cautious gleam.

  She shook her head. “He didn’t go into detail, only said some animals were behaving strangely. Some plants too... growing too wildly.” She gave Sern a meaningful glance. “You’ve taken a job there, haven’t you?”

  Sern nodded and pulled the parchment contract from his coat.

  After reading it carefully, the sister sighed. “Nightmare vines… I’ve seen them mentioned in ancient texts. They grow in places dense with magic and release spores that disturb the mind. But the Trial Forest has never seen them—until now.”

  “What does that mean?” Qian asked, setting down her bowl, curiosity in her eyes.

  “It means something has disrupted the forest’s magical balance.” The sister walked to the bookshelf, took down an old tome, and opened to a yellowing page showing a drawing of a vine. “These are the nightmare vines—typically dark purple, with glowing specks on their stems. The real danger lies in their spores, which can disrupt a person’s magic and cause hallucinations.”

  Sern nodded thoughtfully. “So we need to avoid inhaling the spores directly.”

  “There’s more.” The sister hesitated, choosing her words. “Rumors speak of... unusual events along the borders. Magical creatures behaving erratically, even ordinary animals turning feral. The Trial Forest isn’t on the border, but something seems to be spreading inward.”

  “Uncle Randall mentioned something similar,” Sern said. “He’s noticed strange magical traces on some creatures.”

  Sister Antonia nodded, worry flashing in her eyes. “I know I can’t stop you from adventuring, but promise me—if danger arises, retreat. Protect yourselves.”

  “We will, Sister,” Sern answered solemnly.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Late that night, Qian and Sern returned to their rooms. Sern sat at his bedside, gently wiping down the longsword his father had left him. The candlelight danced on the blade’s surface, revealing faint engravings—silent witnesses to a forgotten story.

  He remembered his father’s eyes on his deathbed, filled with unspoken words. Sern knew that only by growing stronger could he one day uncover the truth—the fall of his family, his father’s unfinished mission, and the secrets of his own fate.

  At dawn, the first rays of sunlight pierced the clouds and spilled onto the roof of Saint Margaret’s Church. Sern and Qian bid farewell to Sister Antonia and set off toward the Trial Forest.

  The sister stood at the church door, watching the young pair fade into the distance, her eyes filled with worry—and a hope too deep for words. She whispered a prayer, “May the goddess bless you both, and may her light guide you through the darkness…”

  The journey was neither hard nor easy. They followed the main road toward the forest, flanked on both sides by endless green wheat fields. The waves of grain swayed with the breeze like the gentle breathing of the sea. Occasionally, a farmer passed by with a heavily laden cart, casting curious glances their way.

  “Did you hear? Another village reported missing livestock yesterday,” one farmer said to another as they rested on a roadside stone.

  “Yeah, heard it was some kind of monster—no traces left behind.”

  Sern and Qian slowed their steps to listen.

  “My cousin lives near that village. Says he saw strange lights in the woods—like ghostfire wandering the night.”

  “Nonsense! He was probably drunk.”

  “Who knows? Lately, there’s been too many strange happenings.”

  Their voices faded with the distance, but the unease they stirred lingered in Sern’s mind. Uncle Randall’s warning, Sister Antonia’s concern, the farmers’ chatter—every sign pointed to something unnatural taking root.

  By noon, the sun scorched the earth, and the dry, hot air clung to their skin. Qian carefully poured a trickle of water from her flask to moisten her cracked lips.

  “How much do you think was true?” she asked, gazing at the hills ahead.

  Sern shook his head. “I’m not sure. But I don’t believe in coincidences. We need to be ready. The nightmare vines might just be the beginning.”

  Qian nodded, a spark of resolve in her eyes. “No matter what, we’ll face it together. Just like back at the church.”

  Sern smiled, saying nothing, but his gaze said everything.

  By evening, they finally saw the outline of the Trial Forest. It wasn’t merely a forest—it was a vast green sea, its edges glowing gold under the sunset, while its depths remained shrouded in shadow. This forest served as Carmen’s natural barrier, and a proving ground for adventurers—thus its name.

  At the entrance stood a small wooden cabin—Allen the forester’s home. An unlit lantern hung by the door, and the garden overflowed with herbs, filling the air with a faint medicinal scent.

  Sern knocked on the door. “Mr. Allen? We’re adventurers from Carmen City, here about the nightmare vine commission.”

  The door creaked open. A burly middle-aged man appeared, with cropped gray hair, a thick beard, and eyes sharp as a hawk’s. A long scar ran from his wrist to shoulder—an old memento from past battles.

  “Come in,” Allen grunted, stepping aside. “Just in time for supper.”

  Inside, the cabin was far roomier than it looked. The walls were lined with animal specimens and herbs. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, and a pot of stew simmered with a rich aroma.

  Allen motioned them to sit and served each a bowl. “You came at the right time,” he said, spreading out a hand-drawn map on the table. “Last night, the nightmare vines spread again—they’ve reached here.” He pointed to a red-circled section on the map.

  “Why are they appearing in the Trial Forest now?” Sern asked, studying the map.

  Allen’s brow furrowed. “Three months ago, there was a strange tremor deep in the forest. I thought it was just a quake. But after that, the animals began acting strangely. Some new plants appeared—including these vines.”

  He tapped the red-circled area. “I need you to clear this zone. Especially these marked spots. The vines there have matured and may attack anything that passes. You need to sever the main roots and burn them—otherwise they regenerate.”

  “Absolutely avoid inhaling the spores,” he warned sternly. “And don’t enter the forest at night. There’ve been strange lights and sounds lately.”

  “Understood,” Sern nodded. “We’ll head out at dawn.”

  After dinner, Allen set up makeshift beds in the living room. As night fell silent around them, Qian whispered to Sern beside her, “Don’t you feel like none of this is a coincidence? Uncle Randall’s warning, the sister’s concern, and now Allen’s report…”

  Sern gazed at the ceiling beams and answered quietly, “Yeah, I feel it too. But it’s too early to say for sure. Let’s finish this task first—then dig deeper.”

  Under the moonlight, the forest became a blur of shadows and secrets. For a moment, Sern thought he saw a flicker of eerie light among the distant trees. But when he blinked, it was gone—only the rustling wind remained, whispering through the branches like an ancient voice, murmuring secrets from deep within the woods.