Xandros continued walking through the forest, yet as his feet moved, his mind was consumed with a storm of thoughts. There was no sign, no guide, no whisper of what to expect—no instruction about what to do or what was happening. Everything that had befallen him here was abrupt, chaotic… deadly. One wrong step, one second of hesitation, and he would've been devoured—dragged into the pit of death itself.
He couldn't understand why there were no rules, no warnings. During the beast stampede, for instance, nothing had indicated he needed to survive for a specific amount of time. It had simply begun—and just as suddenly, the Volkoid beasts had withdrawn.
The golden light… the divine energy… It all felt like someone—or something—was watching, orchestrating these battles from the shadows. That thought only deepened the confusion clouding his heart.
As he pressed forward, the trees began to thin. The forest was nearing its end.
Then suddenly—a shift.
