The forest is silent, cold firs like pillars.

Even at noon, sunlight struggles to penetrate the branches and leaves, falling into this lifeless dense forest.

The knights entering this place seem to step into an ancient tomb in slumber.

They have been searching this forest area for nearly half a month.

Yet, nothing has been found.

But no one complained because of this, nor did anyone question the leader, they trusted him completely.

Because walking at their forefront is the "Northern Blade"—Vic Glanser.

His deep silver armor gleams coldly, twenty elite knights of the Northern Territory silently follow behind him, weaving through the deathly silent forest sea.

This squad is personally selected, trained, and led by Vic.

They never rely on their eyes to find enemies; they cross battlefields by relying on Vic's perception ability, and have accomplished great deeds several times.

But only Vic himself knows that the tightly wound string in his heart has quietly trembled.

The clues have been cleaned too thoroughly, unnaturally so.

The forest land feels as if it was "scrubbed"; all perceivable anomalies have been erased, leaving only emptiness.

Even for him, without consuming Fighting Energy, he can only rely on a few traces to follow the faintest scents and marks to find a way forward.

He is not without anxiety.

For the longer the time, the harder it is to find.

Vic understands this point, but can only suppress the unease in his heart, continuing forward, gambling on the correctness of that vague intuition.

But today is finally different.

He found a small piece of dark brown residue in a crack on the tree trunk.

Vic raised his fingertip, gently touched that sticky trace, then smelled it before his nose, and his gaze suddenly changed.

"Stay close to me, don't fall behind."

"Yes, Sir." A young knight responded, his tone calm yet unable to conceal his tension.

Vic lowered his eyelids, his right hand's knuckle gently tapping the armor at his neck.

"Activate."

A faint silver-blue Fighting Energy flowed through his veins, and beneath his skin appeared faint crackling red streaks.

The world in his eyes suddenly changed, colors faded away, with gray and shadows interwoven.

The air's fluctuations, the residual heat traces on the ground, and the signs of magic power recirculation were precisely captured by him.

He scanned the forest land, one step at a time entering the place that common people call "completely traceless" silent land.

"There has been an insect swarm here." His tone was low, without extra embellishment.

The ground seemed intact, but its temperature structure was twisted.

Weak yet orderly corrosion ripples meandered along, as if countless figures had passed through, yet forcefully buried all traces.

"It has been deliberately cleaned." Vic squatted down, placing his palm against the damp soil beneath the dead leaves.

A young knight who had just joined couldn't resist speaking: "But Captain, we… cannot see any traceable clues at all."

"It's normal that you can't see them." Vic slowly stood, gazing straight ahead, "They've already learned to hide, not just corroding, but controlling the diffusion of corrosion marks."

He turned to look northwest.

In the gray world, that faint heat wave source like dead ashes was stirred by the wind, about to disperse yet not.

"Over there." He said and then stepped forward, the silver armored knights behind him followed without hesitation, silently pacing behind.

No one questioned.

They followed Vic, walking into the traceless land, toward the unknown depths of the dense forest.

Night had deepened, the mist in the forest depths seemed stirred by some invisible force, rolling endlessly.

The silver armored knights moved silently, boots stepping between fallen leaves and decayed matter, soundless, like shadows through the forest.

Suddenly Vic stopped, raised his hand for everyone to halt immediately.

The air changed.

A sticky and intense stench of corpses assaulted their noses, unlike regular decay; it was a rotting smell blackened by time.

Mixed with the rust of dried blood, the bitter stench of ruptured viscera, and some cold mucus not belonging to the living.

It was like a cold finger inserted into the nasal cavity, slowly stirring one's nerves, making one involuntarily gag, yet unable to escape.

Not only did Vic feel it, but everyone smelled this stench.

"The scent has grown stronger." A knight said softly, with a hint of tension in his voice.

Soon the team discreetly clustered closer, holding their breath as they advanced, following the increasingly potent corpse stench.

They bypassed a section of overhang rock and a fallen giant tree, arriving at a crevice at the valley bottom.

The scene before them made even a few seasoned veteran knights instinctively grip their weapons tightly.

It was a… nest.

Or more precisely, a shrine from the depths of a nightmare.

This colossal nest was like a living hive, resin structures intertwined and nested to form countless passages and cavities, resembling some indescribable insect king's abode.

It was like an unfinished insect queen egg cocoon, yet possessed the womb features nurturing countless corpse swarms.

It appeared gray-white, the surface moist and soft, like flesh stripped of all blood color, continuously writhing in the cold wind, rhythmically swelling and collapsing.

The surface constantly oozed moist mucus, filling slowly writhing tubular holes, as if more insect corpses were gestating inside.

The entire structure was composed of some unknown resin, semi-transparent and undried, seemingly breathing slowly.

It's the insect corpses.

Those human corpses that should have rested in peace are now forcibly "reset."

Deprived of will, personality erased, leaving only a shell controlled by spiritual energy.

There are hundreds, even thousands, of them, slowly climbing the surface of the nest, moving with an eerily coordinated motion, neither lively nor stiff, more like a troupe of ritual slaves infused with commands, completing some ancient, mysterious sacrificial process.

Bodies, one after another—of humans, magical beasts, even knight remains clad in broken armor.

They were carried here in batches, lined up quietly, and eventually thrown into a "fissure" at the base of resin.

And above this nest, a huge flesh sac hangs high, that is the mother body.

The flesh sac is connected to the nest via multiple writhing flesh "fibers," slowly transmitting the sacrifices thrown into the fissure upwards.

With each undulation, the entire nest emits a low, heartbeat-like sound.

The air seems to tremble with it, like a hell bellows breathing, inhaling and exhaling death and birth.

But most terrifying is the human faces emerging beneath the surface.

It's not an illusion.

Faces, one by one, like soul remnants pressed under translucent resin, slowly emerge, struggle, and slide.

Some are filled with agony, eye sockets exploding; some are expressionless, lips slightly moving, as if whispering;

And one of them reveals a sinister smile.

The corners of the mouth lift, eyes open slowly, facing Vic's direction.

At that moment, Vic's entire body seemed to freeze, throat dry, barely able to make a sound: "That is..."

He recognized that face.

Baron Hald Blo.

A Northern Lord he had met several times at the Frost Halberd City banquet, always speaking with a smile, courteous in manner.

Yet mysteriously disappeared after last year's war, the official report was "killed in action, body unrecovered."

Now that familiar face is embedded on the mother's surface like a relief, with a stiff smile and slightly tearful eyes, as if pleading in a dream... or mocking.

"This thing..." Vic's voice seemed to seep from deep within his throat.

The twenty Elite Knights behind him were also completely silenced at this moment.

They were the strongest warriors of the Northern Territory, each having experienced countless bloody battles, swords and flames carved into their bones.

But at this moment, they remained silent, some taking a half step back, some with pupils tightened, some gripping spears so hard their knuckles turned white.

"Impossible... this..." a young knight muttered to himself, seemingly trying to use reason to block the cracks of fear.

"This is disgusting..." The adjutant also had cold sweat on his forehead, just seeing the mother seemed to pollute the mind.

Vic forcibly suppressed the urge to vomit rising to his throat, shoulders tensed, the skin under his eyes showing traces of red fighting energy lines.

It was a stress reaction after overly suppressing perception.

But Vic remained calm.

He gave a short and low order: "Mark the coordinates, everyone retreat, we can't handle it, must request support."

The adjutant nodded upon hearing Vic's order and began organizing the retreat.

Vic scanned the team, ensuring everyone started executing the retreat, and also prepared to withdraw.

However, the next moment, a sudden mutation occurred.

The insect swarm suddenly paused, as if an invisible thread was pulled tight.

The insect corpses that were originally busy transporting all raised their heads simultaneously.

Their movements were so synchronized it caused the scalp to tingle, without a hint of delay, like a puppet army controlled by a single will.

Then they all twisted their heads, producing a creaking sound of bones rubbing, slowly turning towards Vic's direction!

In an instant, the air seemed to freeze.

It wasn't killing intent.

But a gaze, a gaze beyond life, as if the entire nest "identified" him as the target.

The knights of the elite squad were all battle-hardened Fighting Spirit Knights.

Yet as that mechanical gaze fell upon them, everyone's heart raced with fear, cold sweat poured out.

The next instant.

The insect corpses all emitted an eerie crackling sound, like bones dislocating, or vertebrae disjointing.

Then they lunged forward.

Without warning, without momentum.

The insect corpses crawling on the nest's surface detached like a collapsing wall of corpses, guided by gravity and will, falling en masse!

Then they skillfully flipped and pounced mid-air, moving in ways not befitting corpses, lunging towards the team.

The knights had entered the hunting ground of the insect corpses!!

"Full retreat!! Spread the message!" Vic roared, his voice like thunder, dispersing the deathly atmosphere among the woods.

The next moment, his fighting energy burst explosively!

Silver-gray flames swept around like a storm, the air currents stirred, lifting fallen leaves and forcing the approaching insect corpses to a standstill momentarily.

The adjutant's eye twitched, seemingly realizing something, but ultimately said nothing.

The team members gritted their teeth, turned, and retreated swiftly, none hesitating.

That silver light behind them did not follow, only faintly heard, the sound of wind like tearing.

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