Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 32 Murder in the Dense Forest

Harry didn't know how long he had been running; by the time he stopped, it was already dark.

The sounds of fighting behind him had long since disappeared; all that remained in his ears were his own heavy breathing, the crisp sound of his footsteps breaking dry branches, and the frantic pounding of his heart.

He walked among the tall trees, the lightness brought by the magic long gone, his legs feeling like lead.

Only when his chest burned and his vision blurred did he stagger to grab a tree trunk, bend over, and violently retch.

This is deep in the forest. The trees are getting taller and denser, their canopies almost completely blocking out the sky. Only a few pale rays of light manage to penetrate and illuminate the thick layer of humus on the ground, which has accumulated for who knows how many years. The humus is soft and damp underfoot, and it emits a slightly fishy smell mixed with earth and mold.

The air was bitterly cold, completely different from the heat of the day, and his thin mage robes offered no protection against the chill.

He forced himself to calm down and listened carefully. Apart from the whistling of the wind through the coniferous forest, there was no other sound. The powerful attackers hadn't pursued him.

This aligned with his judgment—they were only after money; the caravan's cargo was their target, and there was no need for them to go to such lengths for a lone magician who had escaped.

He found a sheltered spot near several giant rocks, chanted a spell, and a small ball of orange-red flame rose from his fingertips, landing precisely on the pile of dried pine needles and twigs.

The flames leaped up, dispelling the biting cold around them and bringing Harry a faint sense of security.

He sat down against the rock, thankfully remembering to hold onto his pack tightly while fleeing for his life.

Harry pulled the hard jerky out of the package and slowly chewed it with the cold water in the leather bag.

Once there was something in my stomach, my stiff body gradually warmed up.

The flickering firelight illuminated his pensive face. This group was far from ordinary. Although their equipment was haphazard, each of them could unleash battle aura, and there were even quite a few intermediate-level warriors among them.

This is not the strength that ordinary mountain bandits should have.

They worked together seamlessly and were ruthless and merciless, more like... a nobleman's private army, or a professional assassin?

As he was leaving, he saw someone who hadn't participated in the fight—probably the leader of the bandits. He watched him leave but didn't stop him… Harry's heart still clenched when he recalled it.

That look made him uneasy, but now that he was trapped in this unfamiliar dense forest, his top priority was to survive and hold out until dawn to find a way out.

The crackling flames, though limited in their warmth, only served to accentuate the boundless darkness and silence deep within the forest.

Harry had no idea where he was or which direction he should take tomorrow to get back to the main road.

Exhaustion washed over him like a tide. He wrapped his robe tighter around himself and moved closer to the fire, deciding to rest and recover his strength.

The flame flickered, making a soft crackling sound.

Harry suddenly stopped chewing.

He slowly raised his head, his ears trembling slightly in the silence.

No... it's too quiet.

Not just now, but ever since he stopped and started the fire, it seems to have always been like this—dead silence.

There were no cries of night birds, no chirping of insects, and even the faint whistling of the wind passing through the towering treetops had vanished without a trace.

The only sounds in the world were the whirring of his teeth grinding against the jerky, the faint crackling of the burning firewood, and his own increasingly clear heartbeat.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up quietly.

He slowly put down the jerky in his hand, his throat slightly dry, and began to draw energy from his mage robes without making a sound. The abundant magical energy circulated rapidly within his body, calming him down and preparing him to cast spells at any moment.

As a fourth-level mage, Harry's perception of his surroundings was noticeably more acute than that of the average person. Just as he was concentrating on sensing his surroundings, a soft "crack" sound came from the dark bushes about ten steps ahead.

It looked like a dead branch being broken by being trampled.

Harry's muscles tensed instantly, he held his breath, and his sharp gaze pierced the swaying shadow.

His right hand was already tucked back into his sleeve, his fingers silently curling, and the most familiar "Leaf Dance" magic spell flashed through his mind, ready to be unleashed.

There was no follow-up. After that sound, everything returned to that chilling, absolute silence.

He remained motionless in that position for a long time. Only the firelight flickered on his face, illuminating his tightly pursed lips and the fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

Is it an illusion? Or is it some kind of small animal?

As time passed, my tense nerves began to doubt, wondering if it was just an auditory hallucination caused by excessive tension...

A long time passed, and nothing happened. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was just imagining things—

"Click."

Another sound!

It's clearer and closer than before!

No. Harry felt a chill creep up his spine.

Harry sprang to his feet, the jerky on his leg falling into the fire and sending sparks flying.

Without hesitation, he uttered a few short syllables as his lips moved rapidly. With a wave of his left hand, magic surged forth, and several withered leaves scattered on the ground in front of him were suddenly swept up by an invisible force, their edges becoming as sharp as blades. They then whistled and shot forward in a fan shape towards the area in front of him!

Puff puff!

Leaves embedded themselves deeply into the trunk, severed branches, and dug into the soil. The area covered by the spell was large enough to strike anything hidden there.

Then... there was no reaction.

There were no wild beasts fleeing in terror, no human voices; it was as if the sound was merely a malicious joke played by the darkness.

His heart was racing, and his palms were slightly sweaty.

Harry knew that if it were the same group of robbers from earlier that day, he would have no chance of survival. It was already completely dark, and blindly running away in this unfamiliar, dense forest would be tantamount to suicide.

He somewhat regretted lighting the fire—if someone were following, the light would undoubtedly be an excellent guide.

Without a fire, the sudden drop in temperature in the forest at night could kill him.

Cold sweat soaked his back. He was hunched over, as if fighting a monster bare-handed, his hands poised to unleash another spell. A pale blue, semi-transparent magical shield faintly appeared around him.

The unknown is certainly frightening, but the revelation is even more terrifying.

He stared intently at the bushes plowed by magic ahead, finally mustering his courage, he took a deep breath, and cautiously took two steps forward. All his attention was focused on the darkness in front of him, his ears straining to discern the slightest unusual sound.

Just as he was about to take his third step and his body leaned slightly forward, he caught a glimpse of the ground out of the corner of his eye—

The flickering firelight cast his own shadow in front of him, long and distorted.

In front of that shadow, almost overlapping with it, an even fainter and more blurred shadow outline appeared out of nowhere.

There's someone behind me!

Extreme terror was like ice water poured over his head, instantly freezing his blood.

He wanted to turn around, to scream, to immediately unleash magic backwards...

But it felt as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping his throat, preventing him from making any sound, and even his breathing stopped.

Time seemed to be stretched out and frozen.

Immediately afterwards, a sharp and cold piercing sensation came from my left back, which then turned into an explosive pain.

He could clearly feel the sharp blade slicing through his flesh, squeezing through the gaps between his ribs, and piercing deep into his body. His strength and body temperature rapidly drained away with the invading cold.

He opened his mouth, but only warm liquid flowed out, carrying a strong rusty smell.

His vision spun and flipped, and he fell forward to the ground, his cheek slamming heavily against the damp, cold layer of decaying leaves.

He turned his head to the side, blood continuously oozing from his mouth and nose, dripping onto the withered leaves in front of him with a soft "drip...drip..." sound.

His unfocused gaze strained upwards, but could only make out a blurry black silhouette, standing silently and motionless on the edge illuminated by the firelight.

The pain quickly becomes distant, and bodily sensation is fading away.

A bone-chilling cold spread from his extremities, and the light of the fire dimmed and shrank rapidly in his eyes before finally going out.