Crackle. Snap.

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath Xingyin’s boots as he strode deeper into the Feridysan Forest of Sylvanwood, his sharp eyes scanning the dense undergrowth. The towering trees stretched skyward, their canopies weaving a thick tapestry of green that filtered the afternoon light into shifting patches of gold and shadow. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the earthy scent of damp wood and rich soil. He was searching for a cabin—there had to be one nearby. Sylvanwood was known for its scattered dwellings, hidden among the vast woodland. He wasn’t too deep yet, still lingering at the outskirts, but surely he would come across shelter soon. His fingers tightened around the leather reins of his horse, the creature letting out a few protesting grunts as if questioning the journey.

Then—something unusual. Stone ruins jutted from the undergrowth, veiled in creeping vines. Before he could linger, the sound of rushing water drew him forward. Pushing past the brush, he stepped into a clearing.

The closer he got, the louder the water’s trickle became, he pushed through the dense brush and found himself stepping into a clearing. The soft earth beneath his feet gave way to uneven, corroded cobblestone, cracked and overrun with moss. At the center of the clearing stood a grand statue—a kitsune, poised gracefully on one leg, its nine flowing tails fanning out behind it. Though faceless, the creature’s presence was unmistakable, its arms held in an archer’s stance, as if perpetually drawing back a carved bow.

“An abandoned temple,” Xingyin murmured, tying his horse to a broken fence. How long had this place been forgotten?" He spoke quietly, he stepped forward—

Crack. Snap.

He froze. That wasn’t him.

In one swift motion, his sword was drawn, steel glinting in the dim light. The shadows stirred. A figure loomed beyond the thicket. Heart pounding, Xingyin steadied his stance.

“Show yourself.”