Logic and instinct were still clashing inside her head, testing her courage to keep moving in this world that had just swallowed her whole.
But that internal struggle slowly faded as her eyes began to absorb the details around her.
“This is… actually kinda cool…”
Anindira murmured without realizing it.
Her eyes widened.
The fear that had been gripping her chest moments ago was gradually replaced by a kind of awe she couldn’t quite explain.
In front of her stood rows of colossal trees, rising so high their tops disappeared into a massive canopy.
Their trunks were thick, covered in moss, wrapped with lianas that coiled like lazy snakes basking in the sun.
“Impressive…”
She praised again, almost like a child seeing illustrations from a fantasy book come to life.
She tilted her head up, trying to peek at the sky above.
But the dense canopy only allowed glimpses of light—droplets of golden glow slipping through narrow gaps between leaves.
Sunlight poured down in thin shafts, cutting through the humid air, forming corridors of light that made the ancient forest look both sacred and wild at the same time.
The air was cool—not cold, not hot.
Just… clean.
Fresh.
Like a forest untouched by pollution.
The scent of wet soil, leaves, and tropical vegetation filled her lungs.
No strange smell.
No decay.
Just the pure fragrance of wilderness.
For a moment, her mouth stayed slightly open, unable to close.
She was genuinely amazed.
“Huh, what’s that?!”
She flinched as something moved in the bushes.
Her body stiffened, eyes scanning for the source.
But the moment she heard the crisp chirping of birds perched on branches above, her tension eased.
Her breathing slowed.
The sounds of the forest… were beautiful.
Lively, yet somehow still quiet.
Insects sang from different directions in overlapping rhythms.
Leaves rustled gently in the wind, creating a soft, calming shhh sound.
And above it all, birds called out in layers—high, low, answering each other across the canopy.
This forest wasn’t eerie.
It was alive.
But its greatness created a strange silence of its own—one that made a human feel painfully small.
The scenery before her was breathtaking, yet it sent a faint chill down her spine.
The wilderness stretched endlessly, with no visible boundary.
Giant trees stood like guardians of another age, untouched by time.
Bushes grew so thick some reached her waist.
She could easily imagine—if a cow were hiding behind them, she wouldn’t see anything but faint movement.
Anindira swallowed.
Her eyes stayed alert, tracking every small motion.
Behind those swaying grasses… what was actually there?
The thought slipped into her mind like a whisper from the ancient leaves.
“I’ve gone into forests before… but one like this?”
She frowned slightly, voice low.
“This is definitely my first time.
What region even is this?”
Her confusion deepened as she recalled the moments before she was dragged into the river.
“Problem is… I was in a forest just now too.
By the river.
Then—how did I end up here?
How does that even work?!”
Frustration built inside her chest.
“My grandpas would probably be jumping in excitement if they saw a forest like this…”
She sighed.
“But how am I supposed to know the location if I didn’t even bring my smartphone… seriously, I’m so stupid.
Why didn’t I just keep it in my pocket?!”
She clicked her tongue, annoyed at herself.
The scenery was too magnificent—too rare—to not be recorded.
Even though she was born and raised in the city, forests were not unfamiliar to her.
Hiking, camping, small hunting trips with her father and brothers in the countryside, helping in rice fields—these were all part of her childhood.
Things city girls might find disgusting were, for her, warm memories.
So her fear wasn’t of the forest itself.
It was the fear of this unknown, alien version of it.
“Dira, enough with the melancholy!”
She slapped her own cheek lightly.
“You’re alone now… completely alone!”
The atmosphere suddenly felt heavier.
The calm that once soothed her now emphasized just how isolated she truly was.
She had panicked a few times earlier, then forced herself to stay calm.
But now… she was starting to fully accept reality.
“Wake up, Anindira!”
She raised her voice again.
“You need to observe the situation.
This is just the trees.
If a predator shows up suddenly… it’s over!”
In the next moment, survival instinct took over.
Without waiting for logic to catch up, her feet moved.
She was no longer walking—she was moving briskly, almost half-running.
Her breathing became slightly rough, but her steps remained controlled.
Her face tightened, showing two things at once:
panic she could barely suppress… and determination not to die here.
She looked left, right, up, down—trying to find patterns, direction, anything she could use as reference.
Her only thought now was:
Get out.
Find help.
Stay alive.
Whatever this place was—however she ended up here—she understood one thing clearly:
From this moment on, every step might decide whether she would return home…
or never return at all.
Elsewhere in the depths of the forest, completely unnoticed by Anindira, someone was watching her.
A pair of sapphire-blue eyes barely blinked.
Hidden behind dense giant ferns and tree trunks wide enough to take several human embraces, the owner of those eyes stood perfectly still—like part of the forest itself.
“Am I seeing this wrong?”
The man thought, holding his breath.
“A woman… in a place like this?
Alone?”
Confusion mixed with caution was clear on his face.
He leaned slightly forward, ensuring the hanging lianas didn’t block his view.
His movement was silent—like someone who had long adapted to the wilderness.
For several minutes, he had been observing her.
Every nervous step, every head turn, every shaky breath.
She clearly did not belong to this world.
Her clothing, her behavior, even her expression… everything felt wrong.
“What clan is she from?
Did she get separated from her group…?”
His brows furrowed deeper.
“Leaving a woman alone like this… how careless.”
The forest around them continued to hum with insects, birds, and wind.
But for him, the world had narrowed down to one thing:
the foreign woman wandering into a place she should never have been in.
From behind the foliage, those sapphire eyes kept watching—silent, cautious, ready to move at any moment.
“Seriously, what is this place?!”
Anindira shouted, panic and confusion mixing in her voice.
“There’s nothing… I’ve walked this far and still found nothing!”
She kept moving without a fixed direction.
No trails.
No chopped trees.
No rope marks, stone piles, or scratches used as markers by hunters or travelers.
Only pure wilderness—dense, untamed, untouched.
“No way… did I really enter a forest no one has ever been in?!”
Her voice grew louder.
Fear slowly crept in, forcing her logic and instincts into conflict.
“No… that’s impossible!”
But the more she denied it, the heavier reality pressed against her chest.
“What do I do?!”
“Seriously… there are no signs of humans at all…”
She pressed her temples, trying to steady her mind.
“Calm down… calm down, Dira.
Focus.
Follow the terrain.
Find water first…”
Her voice was fragile, but she forced her steps to stabilize.
She followed what she had learned from survival training: find water, look for traces, track the sun, don’t panic.
But the deeper she walked, the more she realized something terrifying:
this place wasn’t just empty— it was untouched.
She ran her fingers along tree trunks, hoping for knife marks or resin cuts.
Nothing.
She checked the ground for footprints.
Nothing.
Even animal trails were scarce—signs that large creatures rarely passed through here.
Time passed without her realizing it.
And without noticing, she was moving further away from where she had arrived—deeper into a forest she did not understand was extremely dangerous.
She was now unknowingly approaching the Forbidden Forest Zone— a deep wilderness where only Emerald-ranked hunters dared to enter after years of training.
A place even seasoned men approached with caution and fear.
And Anindira…
was walking into it without knowing what kind of horrors waited behind every ancient tree and shadow.