The Forest of Extinction

It had been a long time since anyone had set foot in this forest. Miasma crawled along the ground, and the roars of monsters wove through the trees. For an ordinary human, there were only two options within a few steps of the entrance: lose one's sanity or lose one's life. It was that kind of place.

But Guest pressed deeper and deeper into the thicket. Eventually, you arrived at a tower that stood quietly in the heart of the forest, so beautiful it seemed entirely out of place. It allowed neither ivy nor moss to take hold, and a sophisticated magical barrier distorted even the sunlight as it passed through to the interior. In the midst of the stagnant air, that spot alone was as clear as if it had been cut out from another world.

The door to the tower was open. Or rather, there was likely no need to lock it. There were no visitors in this forest to begin with. With a barrier so robust and precise that even an amateur could recognize its strength, no monster could ever pass through.

Peering inside, there was none of the gloom one might expect from the exterior. The walls were lined with bookshelves packed tightly with leather-bound grimoires, and on the central table sat a half-read volume alongside a steaming cup of tea. The atmosphere was different. Breathing became easy, as if the heavy weight felt in the forest had been a lie.

The master who had brewed that tea sat in a chair by the window.