Chapter 411: The Green Sea Ruins (Part 4)

Charlotte didn’t believe many people could lie to her face—at least, she didn’t think that young wolfman was capable of it. But since Wu Qingsong had gone out of his way to warn her, she made sure to take precautions.

They continued forward along the gorge, following the widest branch of the stream as the wolfman had described. With their goal marked, their pace quickened. By midday the next day, they entered a valley surrounded by mountains.

The trees here were taller and denser than anywhere else. The sunlight could barely pierce the thick canopy, casting everything beneath into perpetual dusk. But for the beastkin, the dim light was more than enough.

The river thinned into a narrow brook here, then vanished beneath a massive boulder.

“He told me about this rock,” said the young wolfman excitedly. “We’re in the right place!”

“How much farther?” Charlotte asked.

“Not far. We’re close to the spot where they found the ruins.”

But the path ahead grew difficult. Thorny bushes and tangled vines blocked the way. Without the stream to guide them, navigating became nearly impossible. They had no choice but to leave their horses behind in the clearing by the boulder, posting two guards to watch them, while the rest took only minimal supplies and began hacking their way forward, taking turns at the front to cut a narrow trail.

Progress slowed drastically.

“We can’t camp in this forest.” Charlotte’s deputy said. “It’s too damp. And there are poisonous insects and snakes everywhere.” 

As he spoke, he thrust his spear into a black-and-red striped snake slithering toward them. The snake writhed, wrapping itself around the shaft, constricting with all its strength, as if trying to snap it.

“Miss Charlotte, we need to fall back to the gorge.” The deputy insisted. “It’ll be dark soon.”

“Alright, we’ll pull back.” Charlotte exchanged a glance with Wu Qingsong and immediately gave the order.

But after retracing their steps for ten minutes, the lead dogkin suddenly made a puzzled noise. “Huh?”

“What is it?”

“I… I think we’re off track?” the dogkin said uncertainly.

“That’s impossible!” The deputy hurried to the front. But ahead of them lay unbroken forest—no trace of their earlier trail, no hacked branches or felled shrubs. It was as if their path had simply vanished.

The dogkin sniffed the air, trying to catch their own scent. But the forest was saturated with smells, too many to distinguish.

“Miss Charlotte!” the young wolfman suddenly shouted.

They followed his gaze. A vine was sprouting new tendrils, visibly growing toward them.

“Shit!” One of the dogkin, panic rising, chopped off the new growth. But even as he severed it, another vine began reaching out.

The dogkin panicked, hacking at every vine and bush in sight until the growth seemed to pause. But in those few precious minutes, their way back had vanished completely.

“A druid?” Wu Qingsong muttered. Then shook his head. “No… no, it’s not a druid.”

Feya could do things like this—but it would’ve been much faster, much more aggressive. If a druid were here, the vines wouldn’t be growing this slowly.

Instead, the creeping vines gave him another feeling. This forest felt alive. It was slowly, inexorably repairing the damage outsiders inflicted, quietly swallowing them up.

“They’re growing again!” the dogkin cried out.

Another round of frantic chopping cleared some space around them. But everyone knew it wouldn’t last.

“Did they run into this last time too?” Charlotte demanded, turning to the wolfman.

“No! He never mentioned anything like this!” the wolfman answered, panic creeping into his voice.

“Either they accidentally triggered something back then, or someone has since placed some kind of ward over this place.” Wu Qingsong said grimly.

He began extending his spiritual sense outward. But there were hardly any notable soul fragments here—just faint wisps too weak to use. It suggested no beastkin or higher beings had died here for a long time.

“Keep moving forward!” Charlotte ordered.

The dogkin picked up their pace, hacking a path through the woods. But their sense of direction was gone. In the dim light, they couldn’t even tell which way they were headed anymore.

“Stop.” Charlotte finally commanded. “Gather anything we can burn. Clear a space.”

The wind stirred the treetops above, whispering like a sea of insects crawling toward them.

But the undergrowth was damp, impossible to ignite. One of the dogkin tried chopping a branch from a tree. As his blade bit into the trunk, a loud shiver ran through the forest canopy above. Every tree seemed to tremble.

“Damn it.” Wu Qingsong muttered.

Suddenly, all the vines they’d cut began writhing like snakes, surging toward them.

One of the dogkin wasn’t fast enough. Several vines snared him, the delicate tendrils rapidly thickening, twisting around him until he screamed in pain.

The others frantically hacked the vines apart to free him. But in those brief moments, more vines had encircled them, cutting off every escape.

The dogkin let out fearful howls, slashing wildly at the surging green tide.

“Who are you?!” Charlotte shouted at the forest. “We mean no harm! Please! We didn’t come with ill intent! Let us go!”

But the forest gave no reply. The vines simply continued advancing, relentless, inexorable.

“Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be doing this…” Wu Qingsong thought back to passages from the Book of the Dead.

He hesitated briefly, then stepped away from the writhing vines and walked deeper into the forest.

It wasn’t easy, but as he moved forward, the plants didn’t react. They neither grew toward him nor tried to block his path.

“Get out of that area!” Wu Qingsong called back. “Stop cutting the plants! Just avoid them, walk straight into the forest.”