"So many... so many." Lott frowned slightly, his chatty demeanor vanishing.

Strange occurrences always have a sinister cause. This many ghostly entities made no sense—unless this place rivaled an ancient battlefield. Moreover, they were all evil spirits, meaning none had died naturally.

At that moment, wisps of mist rose from the ground. Upon touching the barrier’s edge, they recoiled, forming a clear boundary. It was as if an invisible wall blocked the mist outside. The mist was faint, tinged with a trace of an indescribable eerie hue. Soon, it filled the entire space. The small barrier’s dome resembled a tent’s roof, obscuring the outside view.

"Miasma?" Lott mused. "This area is low and damp, with stagnant night air. Such thick miasma explains why so many got lost and died here. Your barrier filters toxic gases. Now we’re safe; they can’t find us."

"But... it’s still so scary... this atmosphere..." I shrank back a little, leaning further away. Just thinking about strange things lurking in the mist made me shiver uncontrollably.

"Turn around, face me." He reached out, pulling my head into his chest. I wanted to complain about him taking liberties again, but bit my lower lip and gave in. Instead, I leaned into him willingly. In this special situation, let him have his way—it’s not like I’d lose a piece of meat.

"Feeling better? Don’t worry, I’m here." He held my back.

I rested my head against his chest, my anxiety slowly fading. Honestly, I did feel—a little more at ease. I gave a soft "hm," glancing at the thickening mist. This miasma could never penetrate the Dark Lord’s intricate barrier.

"Get some sleep."

Restoring my mana flow, traveling, and setting up the barrier had drained me. I was truly tired. Warmth spread through me, and sleepiness crept in. I curled up like a cat, unable to fight the heavy eyelids. Finally, I surrendered to Morpheus.

Meanwhile, not far outside the banyan forest, a large group of knights had gathered. Even in the dense jungle, they rode warhorses, fully armored. Astonishingly, those white steeds had snow-white wings like birds.

"The note says the Dark Lord and the Hero accidentally entered the Ghost Marsh. Ahead lies the legendary forbidden zone. Stay alert, ready to fight at any moment." The Sword Knight rode his winged semi-divine warhorse, pacing before his knights. "Remember, you can sleep, but even when sleeping, stay upright like your horses—no collapsing."

Nearby, the banyan forest was shrouded in mist. White fog seeped from under the canopy. On this new moon night, starlight failed to pierce the forest’s gloom, making that area even more sinister.

"Brother! Are you ready on your side?" A light shout echoed. Trees parted strangely, revealing a knight in elephant-patterned armor, holding a shield emblazoned with a pentagram. Behind him followed a black stallion, sturdy as a calf.

"Ready. But I wonder if the note is accurate. Isn’t it said the Dark Lord’s nature defies future prediction?"

"Don’t worry, brother." The Coin Knight hung his shield on the saddle. "Actually, while we can’t predict the Dark Lord’s location, the Church can divide the forest into sections. They predict if he lingers in each, eliminating possibilities. Only the Ghost Marsh remains. See, even the Sacred Knight is here. The Church is determined to capture him this time."

Just then, a knight on a golden horse approached from another direction, bypassing the forest. He carried a scepter like a spear. "Fourth brother, stop talking so much." He cut off the Coin Knight sharply. "We train for a thousand days to fight for a single moment. We’ve lived in comfort; now, in this special situation, we simply obey orders. This is just a farce—it’ll end soon."

"I wonder who that Sacred Knight really is. Cold as ice, never speaks a word—so stingy with words. They say he’s lived longer than the Pope. Do you think...?"

The Scepter Knight glared, silencing the Coin Knight completely. The Sword Knight just shrugged, used to it. After all, the Coin Knight’s loose lips were nothing new; the Scepter Knight usually had to rein him in.

"Everyone, listen up. I’m here to inform you of something." The Scepter Knight addressed the Sword Knight’s troops. "The miasma carries special magic. Don’t let it touch you; avoid it if possible." He looked up at the sky, his voice grave. "New moon... not good, not good."

The milky-white mist was incredibly thick, oppressively heavy. Just looking at it made it hard to breathe. Even vision enhanced by Battle Aura struggled to pierce it. Nearby was blurry; the distance was almost invisible. Among the ghostly shadows, a truly eerie atmosphere hung in the air.

Lott shook off his scant sleepiness, scanning the surroundings.

His intuition told him this banyan forest was more than just miasma. He noticed a serious issue: many evil spirits had incomplete forms. Likely, they died from external injuries—even missing limbs.

In the darkness, the sound of bones grinding echoed. So many had died here; it was nearly a dead zone. Sunlight couldn’t penetrate, and the yin energy lingered, making it a breeding ground for the undead. Strictly speaking, the undead were a form of life—corpses animated by spirits. But most had low intelligence, hardly qualifying as sentient beings.

They were too inexperienced to choose such a place to spend the night.

A slight ripple in the thick mist caught Lott’s attention. Ghosts had no physical form and couldn’t disturb the air. Skeletons moved slowly; their small size made little wind resistance. The damp environment prevented zombies. In a swamp, the most terrifying would be animated rotting corpses.

Lott’s hair stood on end. He scanned the area alertly.

Unnoticed by him, a pale, bloodless face emerged from the thin mist behind him. Dead-fish eyes stared at him before slowly retreating. Only then did Lott sense something. He turned around to see only swirling mist.

The world fell silent. Even the clatter of skeletons vanished. Only He Yu’s steady breathing could be heard.

Lott jerked his head up. A human face stared directly at him. No neck—just skin visible through the mist at the barrier’s edge. Genderless, features stiff like a corpse’s. No hair, skin like plaster. It locked eyes with Lott for a moment, then retreated into the mist, stirring a vortex.

"He Yu, He Yu." He patted the girl’s cheek in his arms, gently waking her. This place was too dangerous; no more sleeping.

"Hmm~ Is it dawn?" The girl stretched, then bit Lott’s arm. "Big sausage~~ meow~"

"Stop fooling around. Wake up. We need to move; this place is bad."

"Bad things, meow? Dark cuisine, meow?" She rubbed her sleepy eyes, rolled over to the barrier’s edge, and half-opened her eyes—only to meet a hollow face staring back.

"This... is it a black-and-white clown?"