*
When Dàn realized that the knocking sound coming from the darkness was actually her own heartbeat, the "holy wisdom" returned to her at the same time. The instinct to survive drove her to struggle to hide her helplessness, and she propped herself up with weak arms. Through blurry vision, she vaguely recognized the wooden bowl lying beside her and the brown liquid remaining in it. As memories gradually returned, the earth seemed to float and spin like the ocean. Dàn wanted to take a deep breath, but found it difficult to breathe. A wave of nausea rose from her stomach and she vomited out the remaining potion in her throat, painfully propping herself up with both fists on the ground.
Her confused mind could not separate the memories of the two worlds—the world of the living and the world of the dead. She trembled and opened her fists, finding no bloodstains or feathers inside. However, the feeling of killing the bird was so real that it made her nauseous. Dàn staggered to her feet and looked around, but there was no crimson sky, no crows, and no trace of Greadadh. She must have lost consciousness for quite some time. When she arrived at the ruins of the Hubrey village, it was still morning, but now it was dusk. The hills were dyed orange, and the forests and mist at the foot of the mountain appeared eerie purple. The setting sun cast long shadows on the tombstones of the cemetery, as if the wizards were revolving around the altar with the passage of time.
Suddenly, Dàn remembered something and turned her head to look. However, Vasili's coffin remained closed, and the knight relief sculpture on it appeared even dimmer than at noon.
She felt disappointed. After all, there was no evidence to prove that she had really arrived in Greadadh's realm, or whether it was just a dream she had when she was confused. She tried to move her feet, and a gust of wind blew up from the foot of the mountain, causing her to hug her shoulders. However, unlike before, this made her feel even colder. She uncovered her cloak, and the intertwined golden rings representing her half-god birthmark had disappeared from her bare arms.
As Dàn was still trying to fully comprehend the meaning of this change, a nasty sneer was carried by the wind blowing down from the mountaintop. Dàn recognized the sound and climbed up the hill cautiously to observe - a group of armed mercenary knights marched out of the forest like bats out of a cave, heading towards the hill. And this time they had learned their lesson and brought hunting dogs with them.
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Dàn immediately turned back and returned to the graveyard, trying to erase the magic circle, but to no avail. She looked at the trees at the foot of the mountain, hesitating whether to hide inside. However, once she was inside the pitch-black forest forest, she would inevitably be caught up by the hunting dogs. And if she lost her way, she would end up being devoured by wild beasts.
In desperation, Dàn turned her head to look back. She knelt beside Vasili's grave and tried to push aside the knight relief sculpture. However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move the heavy coffin lid an inch. The sneering laughter grew closer, and turned into the neighing of horses. The barking of the hunting dogs also became more urgent due to their excitement. Only the people who were shouting behind them did not know that their prey was just within reach.
Dàn was pushing with all her might while constantly looking back. Now she realized her mistake: she had trusted her hands instead of her legs. If she had run towards the forest at the foot of the mountain earlier, there would still have been hope. But now, the dark forest was beyond her reach, sneering at her choice. Hell was so close, and heaven was so far away.
She banged on the coffin, even though it was of no use. At this desperate moment, the coffin lid moved, but Dàn didn't even realize that a corner had opened up for her to enter. Then she was pulled by a force into the darkness inside the coffin.
And just as the coffin lid closed, pointed ears and drooling, blood-stained jaws appeared on the mountain ridge. The hunting dogs barked excitedly towards the back, and the mercenary squad arrived soon after.
In the pitch-black box, Dàn closely listened to what was happening above. She covered her gasping mouth to avoid making any noise. The hunting dogs were barking wildly on the coffin, but they were driven away by passing knights, perhaps intimidated by the inscription on the coffin. The deep sound of horse hooves came through the dense soil, as if a chaotic drum beat deafening to the ears. The knights noticed the magic circle left by Dàn and gathered there. After searching for a while, but no one dared to move Vasili's coffin, they regrouped and galloped toward the dark forest.
After the mercenaries left, the dark tomb was completely swallowed up by silence. Dàn reached out to open the coffin, but the heavy wall remained motionless. All the anxious thoughts rushed into Dàn's mind, and cold fear climbed up her spine. The more she tried to calm down, the more her breathing became restless. In addition, all the faint sighs and movements indicated an undeniable fact: Dàn was not the only one in the tomb.
"Vasili Anganas?"