Slowly, the adventurer wiped the tears from his face.
He drew a long breath and exhaled it, trying to calm himself in the middle of despair.
Twilight had passed, and night began to take over.
There was nothing left for him to do now but sit still and wait for death to come.
His head lowered, his injured body slumped against the tree trunk, his wounded right arm resting weakly.
His eyes were vacant. He sat in silence, letting the darkness consume him.
Plop!
A small sound dropped from above the tree, like something falling to the ground.
Whatever it was, it had landed close by.
The adventurer weakly lifted his head, trying to find the source of the sound.
His vision was still hazy, not yet adjusted to the forest night.
But as his eyes slowly adapted, he was taken aback. The forest at night wasn't as terrifying as he imagined.
Though the sunlight had vanished, the forest was not drowned in complete darkness.
Instead, a soft blue aura wrapped around the trees, creating a calm, almost magical atmosphere. The night breeze brushed against his skin, sending a light shiver through his body.
Fireflies floated among the trees, their yellow glow flickering softly in the air, weaving a sense of wonder into the night.
Crickets joined in with their calls, their voices echoing across the forest, filling the silence with a soothing melody.
Near the thickets, Chandrapuspa flowers had bloomed. Their pale purple petals only opened at night, releasing a distinct fragrance—sweet and alluring, carrying beauty and calm. But too much of it could be deadly, for its pollen was highly poisonous.
The scent lured night creatures, like Antiana butterflies, their broad patterned wings fluttering gently as they danced around the newly opened Chandrapuspa.
The adventurer found himself enchanted, momentarily forgetting he had wanted to find the thing that had fallen nearby.
He looked around again, his head turning slowly from side to side.
Then his eyes caught sight of something near his left foot—an oval-shaped fruit, pointed at the end, its deep blue skin tinged with purple at the tips. He recognized it immediately.
"Neelphala fruit…" he whispered weakly.
A fruit found only in the land of Nurhavanna, specifically in the Rimbasauria Forest.
Rimbasauria—an enormous forest filled with diverse flora and fauna, but notorious for the beasts that prowled after nightfall.
That meant the adventurer had traveled farther than he realized, ending up here.
He pushed the thought aside. For now, he was just relieved to see something edible. After all his struggle, his stomach was painfully empty.
With the tip of his boot, he tried pulling the fruit closer. But the sprain in his ankle made every movement agonizing.
"Just a little more… I can reach it…" he gritted his teeth through the pain.
One small push nudged the fruit a few inches closer. All he had to do was lean forward.
His breathing grew heavy as he inched himself closer, bit by bit.
Finally, the sole of his boot hooked the Neelphala fruit.
The adventurer dragged it toward him until at last, the soft texture of the fruit rested in his palm.
He gazed at it with awe, as if all his effort had been rewarded in this single moment.
Bringing it to his lips, he tore through the thin skin with his teeth, revealing its soft pink flesh.
The sweet, refreshing taste mixed with a hint of sourness filled his mouth instantly.
"…Incredible," he murmured, almost in a whisper.
When he finished the fruit, he leaned back against the tree again. His body still throbbed with pain, yet a faint smile appeared on his face.
"At least I won't die on an empty stomach," he muttered with a small laugh, mocking his own fate.
The adventurer turned his eyes upward.
No matter how many times he looked, the beauty of the stars was beyond words. Their colors spread across the night sky, shimmering in countless shades.
He closed his eyes again, letting the soft wind wash over him.
Then his ears twitched. From the bushes nearby came a sound.
"…Maybe this is it," he said weakly, though not with resignation.
The adventurer reached for his sword beside him.
Swinging a blade with a broken body was pointless, but he refused to die without resistance.
He inhaled deeply, steeling himself.
The sword's tip pointed toward the rustling bush.
At last, something emerged.
The adventurer's expression shifted—what was once determination now turned into shock and dread.
Whatever had stepped out, it was no good.
A figure resembling a human, surrounded by small orbs of fire floating around its body.
Goosebumps pricked his skin, his hands trembling slightly.
This was more dangerous than any beast in Rimbasauria. To encounter it was the worst kind of misfortune.
It was Forest Witch.