Scene: 2:56 AM — Wraith Hour
---
The wind had died.
A stillness pressed down on the Stonebark Expanse like a suffocating blanket, and Oliver knew—this was no ordinary silence.
Then it came.
The Wraith.
A soft, bone-chilling whisper cut through the woods, like a scream that had forgotten how to speak. It didn't come from the mouth, but from the marrow of the trees, from the roots themselves, rising up in the form of shimmering shadows.
> ⚠️ Systematic Alert
→ [Spiritual Entity Detected — Wraith Type]
→ [Recommended: Vita Control, Low Sound Output]
→ [Damage Type: Semi-Tangible – Multiple Strikes Required]
→ [Emotional Drain Risk: Moderate]
Oliver steadied his grip on his stone sword. His hands trembled.
These weren't like the imps.
This was a mental game, and it was wearing him thin.
The first Wraith appeared as if it peeled itself off the bark of a tree—black and gray mist formed the image of a faceless humanoid, drifting. It screeched not with sound but with pressure, the kind that made Oliver's teeth clench and stomach tighten.
He swung once—missed.
The second strike clipped the Wraith's side—it wavered, stuttered like poor reception.
The third—direct to center mass.
> ☑️ Entity Dispersed — 1/??
But another came. Then another. And another.
They arrived not as a horde, but a haunting rhythm, spaced out enough to keep Oliver awake, unnerved, unrelaxed.
His forehead gleamed with sweat, despite the cold.
His shoulders drooped—but his Vita glowed bright inside him.
> 🔄 Absorbing Ambient Vita…
+12% stamina
+6% mental clarity
→ "Vita Drain successful — temporary clarity restored"
Oliver's breathing slowed, calmed. A rush of cool life filled his limbs. But even Vita had limits. He couldn't depend on it forever. His body wanted rest, his mind wanted escape, but his will said no.
A Systematic Reminder glowed on the guide in pale light:
> "Stay conscious. Do not sleep in the presence of Wraiths."
"Do not lose your emotional center."
"Do not listen if they speak in voices you recognize."
Oliver swallowed hard.
> "Just a few more hours till dawn..."
He kept moving—not running, not fighting—just shifting through shadows, alert, alive, haunted, and clinging to the last reserves of clarity granted by the wild and the Vita that breathed with him.
This was what it meant to survive the first night in the unforgiving wilds of a Traveler's path.
-----------
Scene: 3:27 AM – The Return to First Canopy Bridge
---
Oliver's boots struck the dirt like clockwork—rhythmic, weary, constant. The forest no longer whispered; it watched. The moonlight shimmered off leaves like quiet eyes tracking him. Despite all the wandering, despite the hours, he found himself right back at the same place—
The First Canopy Bridge.
The gentle rush of water beneath the ravine sang a familiar song. But familiarity could be a lie in the wild.
> ⚠️ Systematic Alert
→ "Spiritual presence — high proximity"
→ "Demonic entities — confirmed"
→ "Ambush detected"
Before he could step onto the bridge—
A shriek tore the silence.
A Wraith dropped down like a sheet of haunted rain from a tree above—landing inches from Oliver's face, its head tilting in that unnatural, floating twitch, misty hands extending without form or limit.
Oliver stumbled back, immediately forming a Vita-infused water ball, hurling it with a blast — splashhht! The Wraith flinched but did not vanish.
And then—
> Crack. Snap. Rustle.
Wooden Imps.
Four of them, crawling from the trees like gremlins. Their eyes glowing amber, their little wooden arms wielding improvised weapons—sharpened sticks, jagged stones.
Oliver gritted his teeth.
He shifted the stone sword into one hand, and stone dagger into the other—dual wield stance.
The first imp lunged—Oliver slashed diagonally—clean hit.
The second came in from behind—Oliver turned with a water burst, sending it tumbling into the grass.
But the Wraith surged forward, shrieking in a low tone that vibrated in the gut. Oliver had to roll sideways to avoid its touch.
His Investigation ability flickered:
> "Wraiths are resistant to panic."
"Best strategy: Eliminate distractions. Then focus. Center. Swing through."
Oliver closed his eyes for just a breath.
Then struck.
Slash one—stone dagger to imp.
Slash two—spin slash to another.
He dodged a wooden imp's club, countering with a water-drenched sword strike—stone clanged against damp wood, cracking it apart.
Only the Wraith remained.
Oliver's breath fogged in the air.
The Wraith circled, then shot forward—Oliver stepped into it this time, sword charged with raw wind Vita, slicing through like cutting smoke—
FWOOOSH—SCHRRK!
The Wraith burst into a pale flicker, vanishing like steam into the wind.
> ☑️ [Enemies defeated: 5]
☑️ [+9 Mysticoins]
☑️ [Achievement Unlocked: Defender of the First Canopy]
☑️ [+Stamina Restored: +10% via Passive Victory Surge]
Oliver panted, dropping to one knee.
The bridge lay ahead, water rushing beneath.
He stood, wiped his brow, and crossed it again—but slower now, eyes darting with each step.
This forest was more than alive.
It was awake.
And it remembered those who survived it.