The Serpent Scale Soarer descended from the heavens like a silent, dark tear in the fabric of the sky. The exhilarating freedom of the open air was swiftly replaced by a heavy, oppressive atmosphere that seemed to rise from the forest below.
The Blackwood Forest.
Even from a thousand feet up, it looked menacing. It was a vast, tangled sea of dark green and black, a primordial wilderness that seemed to swallow the light. The trees were ancient and gnarled, their branches like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. A faint, unnatural mist clung to the canopy, refusing to dissipate even in the bright afternoon sun.
Yue Lingshan shivered, an involuntary tremor that had nothing to do with the temperature. She pressed herself closer against Wang Jian's back, her arms tightening around his waist.
"Jian," she whispered, her voice a soft note of unease against the low hum of the flying artifact. "This place… it feels wrong. The spiritual energy is chaotic, tainted."
