To the east from the riverbank, there is a gentle slope. They crossed a low meadow and headed for the woodland. Most of the weeds and shrubs here are gray and black, giving off a rotting stench. The path that stretched from the other side of the river was obscured by grass and became less obvious, but fortunately there was a wind lamp every few minutes to remind them of the direction they were heading.

By this time, the sun had completely sunk into the horizon, and the fog seemed thicker. Visibility was getting worse and worse, and Diego had to take the spell energy goggles out of his bag and put them on. But he had not gone far before he found that it was of no avail, for the horses on which they rode refused to move any further, and they kept snorting and their ears bobbing back and forth, as if listening to something.

Diego could feel their nervousness and unease.

"Something isn't quite right, they sense danger." Diego said as he soothed the grumpy mount. He straightened up and looked into the jungle in the distance, but it was so dark that he couldn't see anything.

Masrae jumped off his horse, his hands running over the tips of the weeds, taking in the message the plant had given him.

"These weeds and shrubs are warning me that there is some kind of evil creature at work in the jungle. The night is their home turf, and it's best not to go deep into the jungle at night. After a while, he withdrew his hands from above the grass and said.

"I think you're right, we'd better go in at dawn." Diego nodded in agreement. From his memories of this place in his previous life, he knew that in addition to those physical monsters, there were many invisible ghosts roaming here. The ghosts of the unjustly died wandered the dark forests, suffering from curses, bound to this filthy land by necromancers, never to leave. The pain of not being able to rest makes them even more mad, and their hearts are filled with jealousy and hatred for the living. Almost every adventurer who enters this jungle at night will be attacked mercilessly by them.

"Let's stay out of the woods for the night." Masrae built yì road. As a Night Elf, reluctant to enter a forest. It may sound strange, but the Night Elves are almost a race that lives in the forest, among the Night Elves of Darnassus. There are quite a few people who have never descended from this huge world tree in their entire lives.

But Masrae just didn't want to go into the forest today, the gray forest gave him the feeling of being twisted, corrupted, wailing in pain all the time, and completely lacking the serenity that a forest should have. Let a druid enter this kind of place. It's just torture.

"Then let's camp here, we can't take this risk." Diego said that although he was a little anxious, he could tell the line between bravery and recklessness. He found some dead branches of trees at the edge of the forest and built a bonfire at the foot of a hillside sheltered from the wind.

It was foggy everywhere, and they could hear the murmuring of the dark river in the distance, but they couldn't see the river at all, even though they knew it was there.

"I'll keep watch in the middle of the night." After slatching his belly, the Night Elf said.

Diego laid several traps around the camp. Then he lay down on a fur mat by the campfire, and he put a blanket over himself - they entered the gold mine without expecting it to be a protracted chase, so they did not prepare any camping items, which were given to them by Rainier.

It was the first time they had taken a break since the morning. After a long day of running and intense fighting, Diego was so tired that he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down.

He woke up when the moon rose in the middle of the night sky. Due to the fog, the moon does not appear as bright as it used to be. A hazy moon halo appeared around it. Diego speculated that there might be wind tomorrow, which was good news for them, as it meant that the fog that filled the forest would be blown away and they could see farther. It is also more conducive to rushing.

He sat up and looked around warily. The campfire next to him was no longer so blazing, but the red charcoal was still radiating heat. A little farther away, the Night Elves stood motionless like a tall oak tree, looking out at the dark jungle to the east.

"How's it going?" Diego stood up and walked over to him, asking in a low voice.

"Nothing happened. The dark creatures of the jungle did not come out to do evil. Perhaps in their eyes, the power of the Light in you is also something they hate. Diego said half-jokingly. In fact, he was inadvertently right: even though Diego had curtailed the light that had been scattered outside his body, to the evil spirits of the forest, the power of the Holy Light contained in his body was like a huge torch burning in the night, not to mention getting closer, even a glance would burn his own eyes—oh, if the spirits had eyes. And the holy light fluctuations hidden in the body are also a difficult skill for paladins to master, let alone the half-hung Diego.

The next morning, just after dawn and before the sun had risen, the two of them were on the road again. The two horses were still a little restless, but at least they weren't as nervous and restless as they had been yesterday evening.

The forest was still gray and cold, and the morning sun looked weak in the rising fog. A cold, viscous white mist enveloped the forest, twisting and dancing around the two men like tentacles.

They rode through the woods, carefully avoiding the intertwined roots of the ground and the branches overhead. The weeds on the ground had withered and emitted an unpleasant rancid stench, and some stinking midges fluttered above the grass, and when they passed, they scattered with a "coax". Due to the contamination of magical energy, most of the trees here are overgrown with various knots, and the branches on the top of their heads are twisted together like snakes and insects, obscuring the sky and the sun, which makes people shudder.

As they went deeper and deeper into the forest, the trees seemed darker, more twisted, and denser, and they couldn't even see through the foliage to see the sky overhead.

The thick wet mist had already soaked through the clothes of the two men. Coupled with the constant droplets of water falling from the branches and leaves of the forest, Diego felt as if he was immersed in the cold water, and his bare neck felt a chill from time to time, as if someone was constantly blowing air there.

There was no movement in the entire forest except for the sound of condensation dripping from the leaves, but the silence of the forest made people feel even more frightened, as if some monsters were maliciously coveting them in the dark, looking for a place to put their mouths on them. This creepy feeling grew in the back of their hearts, and it didn't take long for both of them to start looking around suspiciously, fearing that an enemy might jump out from behind the tree at any moment.

Diego was reluctant to find no trace of Stavon - not that he couldn't find it, but that there were too many of them, and the forest was full of dripping undead rot, broken pieces of clothing, and the like, as if the dark creatures of the jungle had marched last night.

In fact, this speculation is already very close to the truth. Unlike the undead who were called upon by the necromancers, the undead such as skeletons, zombies, or ghouls who had been infected by the plague and brought back to life in the twilight forest were always wandering aimlessly at night, preying on any living creatures they saw, not intentionally but perfectly obscuring or obfuscating the clues left by Staven.

"I can't find any trace of Staven, and now it looks like we're going to have to head straight to Raven Ridge." Diego said helplessly as he withdrew his gaze from a pool of suspicious objects that looked like vomited visceral fragments. (To be continued.) )