The group, having sought solace in brief rest and hastily stitched salves, mustered their resolve to plunge once more into the wild of the forest. The shadows grew longer as the sun began its descent, casting an eerie glow on the dense undergrowth. The forest's very breath seemed to hang heavy in the atmosphere, charged with anticipation that set their nerves on high alert, every rustle and crackle potentially escalating threats.

Although the group had rested before, exhaustion clung to them with an iron grip, fatigue pulling on them with a shorter leash.

“I am tired. Can we rest up?” breathed Glucia, her voice worn thin by the relentless march.

“We are halfway there,” reassured Cain, “Let’s get this last stretch of the journey. We want to camp there.”

Something unusual in the woodlands caught Osric's eye, hiding amongst the forest. He agilely scaled a neighboring tree, the rough bark stabbing his fingertips as he inched towards it.

Glucia breathed out in gratitude, the tension uncoiling from her spine as she allowed the moss-embroidered earth to cradle her. “Osric, your timing is impeccable,” she murmured, her words tangled in the forest's lullaby.

Hilda and Preston echoed her sentiment as they crumpled beside her, their voices twining in unison “Thanks, Osric,” they said in unison.

“Fine,” Cain said defeatedly, a sigh weaving through his words. “We rest for five minutes, and we start walking again.”

Osric finally descended down from the tree, his hands tenderly cupping a bud - a radiant blue flower bud surrounded by green leaves.

Curiosity sparkled in Glucia's eyes as she studied the plant, a blurred memory tiptoeing on the edge of recognition. "That's a...a failie, isn't it? A blue variant... that implies...” She wrestled her head, trying to find her words.

“That means it’s mutated, so it has a higher potency but lasts half the time on average.” Osric finished her thoughts

Glucia's eyes widened in astonishment, her gaze silently questioning how Osric knew.

"Well, as you can see, the expanse of my intellect is rather vast. Therefore, you'll need to polish your mental acuity to match my pace," Osric retorted, puffing out his chest with ill-concealed pride. “I am planning to also go into alchemy. I have to use my natural strength.”

“Just you wait,” Glucia scrawled “My brain is only 10% refined. Just wait till I hit the 50ies. Wait till it reaches full throttle. Let's see who memorizes the most!”

“I would love to see that,” Cain said “How about a friendly wager? Loser treats the entire group to a feast.”

Glucia and Osric looked at Osric with annoyance.

Unperturbed by their frosty stares, Cain redirected his gaze skyward, observing the subtle shift in hues as twilight began to take over. “Alright, 5 minutes are up; we are starting to walk again. We need to reach our journey by nightfall.” he looked at all of them “You all know how busy it gets in the forest during nighttime.”

With a soft rustle, Osric tucked the cozy confines of his satchel. He resumed his stride, the rear end of his spear serving as an impromptu walking stick.

Grunts and groans accentuated the stillness as Preston, Hilda, and Glucia rose from their brief respite.

Glucia delved into her bag, producing a leather flask filled with an ambiguous liquid. With meticulous precision, she drizzled the liquid over the patch of ground they'd recently abandoned, the earth greedily absorbing the mysterious concoction.

Once again curious, Preston asked, “Now, what’s that?”

A note of surprise strummed in Hilda's response, "You've never been part of a serious hunt before?"

Preston sheepishly retorted, "Of course, I've been a part of hunts! Just... more towards the rear, away from the action," his words fading into a mumble.

Cain, amused, chipped in, "They taught this at school, too, you know."

“I was,” Preston chose his words with meticulous care, “perhaps not the most attentive student.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Sighing and slapping her hand in amused annoyance, Glucia explained, “This is something to mask our smell.” She held up the flask of liquid. “We can use powder or other methods to cover our scent, and I happen to use a very simple method.”

“There are numerous ways to mask our scent in the wild, but I prefer simplicity.”

"And this simplicity involves?" Preston probed further, curiosity unslaked.

“Urine.”

“Ahh, so we use the scent of a dominant predator to ward off the weaker ones?” Preston's understanding dawned.

“Indeed,” Glucia affirmed with a nod, trickling more of the concoction onto the ground. “Butcher shops don't merely deal in flesh and bones. If you know where to look, they keep these handy supplies in stock too.”

“Why not do this before?”

“No need, barely the outer layer of the forest. Where scents blend and mingle. Hunters frequent those parts just as we did. But deeper within the forest, foreign odors draw undue attention. So we have to mask ours unless we get surrounded.” Glucia explained

Preston nodded in understanding, “I am learning so much.”

They started walking once again, the sunlight blasting on them. The walk remained relatively safe.

They had to fight once again, however, the panther they encountered immediately fled when it realized that the group could defend itself.

As the sun began its final descent, casting a warm orange glow upon the forest, the weary group pushed forward, determined to reach their destination before nightfall. Their anticipation grew as they approached the entrance to the petrified part of the forest.

With each step, the terrain underwent a subtle transformation. The undergrowth receded, surrendering its dominion to a carpet of autumn-hued leaves and rocks donning coats of age-old moss. The forest's breath changed from its earlier damp richness to a drier, subtler variation.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the first glimpses of the petrified logs emerged from the shadows. Massive, weathered trunks stood like sentinels, frozen in time.

An audible gasp of awe rippled through the group, their collective fatigue momentarily eclipsed by the breathtaking spectacle unfurling before them.

The petrified logs stood as monuments to an epoch long past, their grandeur etched in every rigid line and silent curve. Towering giants now turned to stone, displayed intricate patterns and textures etched by the passage of ages. Some logs bore the marks of long-forgotten creatures, their imprints fossilized within the hardened wood.

Suddenly, Osric's nostrils twitched, catching the phantom scent of crimson life force. His hawk-like gaze darted across the ancient logs, assessing their surroundings for potential danger. "It's distant," he murmured, inhaling deeply again, "but unmistakable. Some creature has lost a significant amount of blood here."

Among these colossal relics, the group found the hollow logs they wanted. One big log that could accommodate the five of them, large enough for the entire group to sit comfortably inside. Their openings beckoned, inviting the weary travelers to rest and find solace within.

Nestled amidst these petrified titans, the group discovered the sanctuary they sought - a single massive log spacious to accommodate the entire party.

With a mix of relief and excitement, they settled into the hollow log. The cool, petrified surface provided a welcome respite from their journey. As they sat within the hollow chamber, a sense of reverence and wonder enveloped them.

“I've never ventured this deep into the forest,” Hilda murmured, tracing her fingers over the log's petrified skin, the chill seeping into her touch.

“I've heard hunters speak of this place, but I never fathomed its true scale,” Glucia marveled.

Their bags opened, revealing layers of warmer clothing in preparation for the approaching night. Although the summer season was in full swing, the temperatures would drop quite low at night.

“This apparently happened in the battle between the nagamen and the three villages hundreds of years ago.” Cain narrated, his body settling comfortably into the log's embrace.

Hilda chimed in, “One of the Nagamen's innate abilities is to petrify anything they laid eyes on.”

“That’s so cool.” “Fascinating!” Glucia interjected, her eyes lit with curiosity. “ What are our innate abilities then?”

“Compared to other variant humans, we are average. That is a null but also a blessing,” Osric answered “We do not have very obvious weak areas, however, that also means normally we do not excel in any aspects either.”

“That's boring,” Hilda answered, closing her eyes.

Slowly conversation died out, the day’s tiredness willing over everyone but Osric.

Perched atop their petrified refuge, Osric stood guard. Facing the direction from which the faint scent of blood had wafted earlier.

He just sat in silence, taking his energy within his nodes and stirring them up, starting to refine the thumb of his left hand. Time passed, and his energy simply went low before much progress was made.

Osric's gaze dropped to his hand, a sigh slipping past his lips.

“After fracturing, buying the spear and the supplies needed for the trip. I have bled my essence stone reserves dry. Aside from a small portion allocated for food and other essentials, I'm practically empty. To progress as fast as possible in refinement, I need more essence stone.”

He looked at the sky, a myriad of stars gleaming like scattered diamonds.

He could get more; he could just “find an ancient technique or “stumble upon a rare alchemy potion” to make huge money, But these possibilities were trump cards he preferred to hold back to keep their presence less conspicuous.

A sudden knock roused him from his thoughts, and he found Hilda ready to relieve him of his duty.

"Already?" he asked, surprise tingeing his words.

“Time moves fast when you’re tired, I guess,” she said with a yawn.

“Good luck.” Osric moved to the hollow

Lying down, he let sleep envelop him. He had been training his body to thrive on a mere four hours of rest, maintaining optimal health and vitality. Yet, sleeping recovered his energy reserves faster, so he dozed off.