A shadowy, menacing magical swamp sprawled before them.

Even under the sun's warm gaze, its dense fog stubbornly refused to yield, leaving the environment cloaked in perpetual dimness. The hues of the surroundings bore a cold, ashen ochre—a palette that seemed to seep into one's very soul, rendering even the brightest spirits subdued over time.

As the stone gate creaked shut behind them, Tony pulled his hood up, his tone as cold as the swamp air.

"I'm heading that way," he said curtly, turning without awaiting Grim's response and striding down a winding path of crushed white pebbles to the left.

Watching Tony’s burly figure dissolve into the mist, Grim adjusted his own hood and set off in the opposite direction, down a path veiled in mystery. Walking silently, he murmured, "Show me Tony’s detection data."

In the next instant, a detailed analysis of Tony appeared in his mind, courtesy of his biochip:

Name: Tony

Attributes:

* Strength: 7

* Agility: 3

* Constitution: 8

* Spirit: 6

Grim's lips twitched in mild surprise. With such physical prowess, why not abandon wizardry for the life of a berserker? Tony’s strength and constitution were twice Grim’s own, a disparity that meant even a single close-quarters punch from Tony could spell disaster for Grim. Yet, as a wizard apprentice, Grim’s spirit score stood at 8—two points above Tony’s. This inherent advantage of mental fortitude was a gap that no amount of physical strength could bridge.

"So, he’s likely pursuing the path of a melee sorcerer," Grim mused. "Using alchemical concoctions to enhance his body while supplementing his combat skills with spells... probably the only route available to him."

Having spent time with Tony, Grim knew the biochip could analyze precise data from even the subtlest behaviors, granting him a strategic edge in interactions and minimizing unnecessary risks—a factor Grim valued immensely.

Yet, this method of detection was unlikely to work on true wizards, whose bodies radiated elemental energy in powerful waves. Such natural defenses not only masked their true condition but also interfered with external probing. Grim couldn’t even confirm if full-fledged wizards might detect the biochip itself, a thought that urged him to tread carefully within the Tower.

The gravel path meandered through the mist, flanked by strange plants—some squat with conical trunks, others adorned with coiled, closed leaves. Vines dangled lazily, and enormous, vividly colored blossoms glistened with unsettling allure above stagnant pools of fetid, blackened water.

It all seemed innocuous—ordinary, even—but Grim was acutely aware that stepping off the path meant courting death. In a place where every creature and plant was a magical monstrosity, survival demanded ruthless vigilance.

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Those seemingly timid shrubs? Murderous trees. The moment one stepped near, their coiled leaves would unfurl to ensnare the victim in a deadly embrace. Dangling vines, revealed as bloodthirsty tendrils, would pierce the body with needle-sharp barbs, siphoning life until only withered remains fed the soil. Beneath these trees lay a graveyard of bones, some human, others animal—a grim testament to their victims.

The Tower cultivated these magical horrors for two purposes: safeguarding against intruders and harvesting rare alchemical materials. The roots of the murder trees and the blood sacs within the vampiric vines were invaluable supplements for wizards with frail constitutions. Yet gathering them was a deadly task assigned to apprentices, resulting in a grimly high mortality rate.

As if sensing Grim’s warm blood, the swamp’s stillness grew restless. Hidden creatures stirred, moving unseen toward the path. When Grim’s gaze swept over them, they froze, resuming their guise of lifeless flora.

Grim remained unfazed. No matter how fierce or frenzied these monsters became, they dared not step onto the gravel path, as though an unseen force forbade it.

"Record these magical plants into the database," Grim commanded.

The chip responded: Task failed. Core database damaged. Species mapping unavailable. Activating elemental vision for reconstruction.

A cascade of data flooded Grim’s vision, overlaying the environment with brilliant hues. Elemental energies shimmered in the swamp, revealing the hidden truth beneath its façade.

Grim winced. The overwhelming kaleidoscope blurred his vision.

"Filter out irrelevant spectra. Focus on primary energy patterns," he instructed.

Gradually, the garish display dimmed, restoring clarity. Yet, even now, the edges of objects appeared translucent under the biochip’s scrutiny, the ambient air teeming with discernible particles of water and elemental energy.

The mist, once an opaque shroud, now revealed itself as threads of water vapor, bound by an ancient, enigmatic force that confined it within the swamp. Grim halted, his hood casting shadows over his glowing eyes as he scrutinized a nearby tree.

Beneath its gnarled bark, spectral faces writhed in torment—souls imprisoned by the murderous tree. Its curling leaves bristled with venomous spines, their faint green glow betraying the paralyzing toxins within. Parasitic vines coiled around the trunk, pulsating with vibrant, blood-red energy.

At the junction of tree and vine, hollow cavities housed pulsating blood sacs, grotesquely resembling human hearts.

A sudden cacophony broke the stillness. Carrion crows descended, their crimson eyes fixed hungrily on Grim. Unease crept over him as their ominous presence lingered.

Despite their low rank among magical beasts, these crows wielded an unsettling gaze capable of unnerving prey. Apprentices had been blinded before by their sharp beaks.

Grim’s fingers twitched. Reciting a well-practiced incantation, he conjured a blazing flame in his right hand. The spell, Burning Hand, enveloped his fingers in a crimson inferno that roared and writhed without harming him.

It was the sole spell Grim had mastered in his six years at the Tower. Though its range was limited to five steps, its intensity was undeniable.

The fiery display illuminated the fog, its elemental energy sending the swamp creatures scurrying. The carrion crows screeched in dismay and retreated into the depths of the mist.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Grim steadied himself.

"Record these creatures’ details," he instructed.

Data recorded. Name them.

"Murderous Tree. Vampiric Vine. Carrion Crow."

Entries saved to the database.