Ash decided to put aside the strange phenomenon he had just experienced.
Whatever that invisible boundary was—whatever caused the rain to vanish as if it had never existed—it was not something he could afford to think about right now. Thinking would not keep him warm. Thinking would not keep him alive.
What mattered was simple and urgent: he needed shelter before nightfall.
Ash looked down at himself.
His clothes were soaked from head to toe. The fabric clung to his skin, heavy and cold. Even now, as the rain was gone and the air felt calmer, the moisture refused to leave his body. If the temperature dropped during the night—and it always did—he did not know how long he could endure it.
'So the rain can disappear… but my clothes stay wet, he thought. That's inconvenient.'
He needed a place to rest. Somewhere he could dry his clothes, even partially. Staying wet through the night would make sleep impossible, and exhaustion was already weighing on him.
Ash slowed his pace, allowing himself short breaks between steps. His body still ached from the hailstorm, and the earlier strain had not fully faded.
Then—
A sound.
Ash stopped instantly.
His grip tightened around the branch he was carrying. He raised it slightly, shifting into a defensive stance. His eyes scanned the surroundings, moving from tree to tree, shadow to shadow.
Nothing moved.
The forest stood still, as if unaware of his presence.
After several seconds passed without incident, Ash frowned slightly.
'Did I imagine it?'
To be certain, he stayed where he was. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore his own breathing. He focused entirely on listening.
Rustle.
Ash's eyes snapped open.
The sound was faint, almost easy to miss, but it was real. It came from the west.
He could not tell what made it. The noise was too soft, too distant.
To be absolutely sure, Ash lowered himself to the ground. He lay flat and pressed one ear against the earth, closing his eyes again.
Rustle… rustle… rustle…
That was enough.
Ash pushed himself up and immediately started running toward the west.
'That's water,' he realized.
'Flowing water.'
His pace quickened.
As he ran, the sound grew clearer. What had once been a vague rustling turned into a steady, recognizable flow. The forest floor gradually became more uneven, and the air felt cooler.
The source of the water was close. He could hear it clearly now.
After a short distance, the trees opened up, and Ash came to an abrupt stop.
Then Ash stopped.
In front of him was a river.
Not a stream. Not a pond.
A river.
It stretched across his field of vision, about twenty meters wide. The water flowed calmly from east to west, reflecting the dim light of the sky. It was not particularly deep—Ash estimated around two and a half meters—but it was wide enough to matter.
The water was so clear that he could see the riverbed below.
Ash stared.
'A river… here?'
It felt strange. Illogical. A forest filled with massive trees like this should not easily allow a river of this size to exist.
'If there's a river, he reasoned, then there must be high ground to the east. Something that pushes the water down.'
And another realization followed.
'If it flows west… it might lead to the sea.'
That thought made him hesitate.
Reaching the sea could be both an opportunity and a danger.
If he reached the coast, he might find food. He had not eaten anything for over a day now. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, dull but persistent. Drinking water helped, but it was not enough.
On the other hand, the sea was dangerous.
Marine monsters were almost always worse than land-based ones. Stronger. Larger. More aggressive. Life in the ocean demanded it.
And even staying near the shore would not guarantee safety.
Ash clenched his jaw.
Staying here was no safer.
The sun was already sinking. The light filtering through the trees grew weaker by the minute.
Night was coming.
And with it, monsters.
Ash made his decision.
He turned and began running westward, following the river's edge.
He lost track of how many times he had been forced to run, each time for the sole purpose of survival.
'Hmm?'
Ash had expected the river to stretch on indefinitely, but after only a few minutes of sprinting, he reached its abrupt end. He had anticipated an encounter with the vast blue sea, but the reality before him defied his calculations.
Roar—!
Instead of an ocean, a colossal waterfall thundered down from the precipice. Ash's eyes widened in surprise; he hadn't foreseen the river leading to such a drop.
Surrounding the falls were towering cliffs that formed a massive natural circle, cradling a basin of land in the center.
'Am I seeing things? Why is there a village in the middle of that land?'
The distance was too great to be certain, and he couldn't definitively confirm if it was indeed a human settlement.
A village appearing mysteriously within a "Place" was enough to set his instincts on edge. If any civilized inhabitants discovered he was a "Chosen," it would lead to complications he wasn't prepared for.
However, Ash knew he had to go there. His intuition whispered that the village was the key to locating this Place's Core.
Fortunately, thanks to his glove, the key-shaped Mark remained hidden. As long as he kept it concealed, infiltrating the village should be manageable.
Now, the immediate problem was the descent. Looking down from his current position, he estimated a drop of at least 200 meters.
A fall from this height meant certain death. Beside him was the raging waterfall, and around him were sheer cliffs with no obvious path down.
Ash leaned over, squinting as he scanned the edge for a way down. His eyes caught sight of small, alternating holes carved into the rock face—artificial handholds.
'Perhaps these were created by the villagers for climbing up and down.'
This was concrete evidence that people lived below. Having found a path, he didn't hesitate.
He took the tree branch he had previously rinsed in the river and gripped it firmly between his teeth.
He wasn't about to abandon his only tool, so he decided to take it with him.
With the branch secured, he began the slow, precarious descent using the pre-carved holes. It was far from easy.
The most climbing Ash had ever done was scaling rooftops in the city to catch stray cats.
He had never tackled a vertical cliff like this before, but he pushed forward to continue his journey.
He gripped each small hole with white-knuckled intensity; a single slip meant a fatal plunge.
As he descended, he consciously avoided looking down to prevent distraction or unnecessary psychological pressure.
Through sheer persistence and a stroke of luck, after a grueling climb that left his hands throbbing with pain, Ash finally reached the ground below.
The moment his feet touched solid earth, he collapsed.
"Hah... hah... hah..."
'Finally made it. That was anything but easy.'
He lay there for a while, resting to regain his strength and letting his limbs relax after hours of being cramped from the climb.
Soon, he would head toward the village to find clues about the Core and escape this Place.
But there was one thing Ash didn't know: since the moment he arrived at the bottom, a pair of eyes had been watching him from the shadows of the forest.