Team: Celosia, Haruki, Manjiro.
Location: Silverpine Thicket – Eastern Approach to Verdenholt.
Mission Time: 10:39 AM — Windy.
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The eastern trail wound through the dense undergrowth of the Silverpine Thicket, a forest so tightly packed that sunlight only slipped through in fragmented slivers. The air was cool, carrying the sharp tang of pine resin and wet earth. Every step they took muffled under the thick carpet of needles and moss.
Celosia walked near the front, her steps careful and deliberate, hands resting lightly against the strap of her satchel. The mana here pressed close against her skin—not aggressive, but... unsteady. Like the forest itself was tense, waiting.
Haruki flanked her left, gaze constantly scanning from shadows to broken tree stumps. His movements were economical, silent. Always a step ahead in his mind.
Trailing behind, Manjiro moved with an easy swagger, arms folded lazily behind his head as he kicked aside loose twigs. "Silverpine Thicket," he mused aloud. "Sounds like a boutique hotel chain. 'Come lose your mind among the cursed trees—complimentary breakfast included.'"
Celosia suppressed a tiny smile, but the tension in her shoulders didn't ease. It was hard to laugh when the energy around them buzzed like distant static.
Haruki gave Manjiro a sidelong glance but said nothing. His focus was absolute, his posture alert beneath the calm exterior.
The trail eventually split, one path winding deeper into shadow, the other looping around what remained of a shattered watchtower at Verdenholt's forgotten eastern wall. Vines strangled its stones, and old warding runes—faded to almost nothing—barely clung to the broken archways.
Celosia slowed, crouching near the roots of an ancient pine. She brushed her fingertips against the soil, closing her eyes. "Residual traces," she murmured. "Spirits... disturbances. It's... complicated. Hard to separate what's old from what's new."
Haruki crouched beside her, peering at the ground. "Fresh movement. Look here—the grass was disturbed recently."
Manjiro leaned over them casually. "You sure it wasn't just a really enthusiastic squirrel?"
Neither of them answered.
Celosia's hand trembled slightly before she pulled it back. "It's layered... like something buried under memory." Her eyes flicked open, troubled. "Something's wrong with the weave of mana here."
Haruki rose, brushing dust from his knees. "Then we don't linger. Sweep the ruins. Eyes open."
"I'm always open," Manjiro quipped under his breath. "Open to existential dread."
Celosia straightened, adjusting her satchel. "We'll keep tight formation. If something reacts to our presence..." She hesitated, feeling the weight of the forest bearing down around them. "We fall back. Immediately."
Haruki nodded once. Silent understanding passed between them. They moved forward again, slipping among the trees and broken stones. Around them, the air felt heavier with every step—thick and syrupy, as if the thicket itself resisted their intrusion. Somewhere ahead, buried beneath the soil and the ruins, something unseen stirred faintly—waiting.
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