The Horde stood frozen, their weapons clenched tightly, eyes darting through the oppressive mist. The tension in the air was suffocating, each member straining to catch any sign of movement in the swirling fog. The growls and snarls that had surrounded them moments ago seemed to vanish, replaced by an eerie silence.

“Was it just… noise?” a goblin whispered, his voice trembling.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Volk growled, his eyes scanning the void. “This mist is alive. Tricks and illusions are its weapons.” Read exclusive adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Suddenly, a faint rustling noise broke the quiet, barely audible but enough to send a chill through the group. The sound grew louder, closer, morphing into a series of wet, slithering noises. The mist around them seemed to ripple, its tendrils shifting and curling like living creatures.

The goblins huddled closer, their small forms trembling. Even the ogres, usually stalwart and fearless, shifted uneasily, their massive hands gripping their weapons tighter.

Then, without warning, a shape emerged from the mist—a massive, hulking form that loomed over the group. Its body was indistinct, more shadow than substance, but its glowing red eyes burned through the fog like embers in a fire.

“It’s real!” one of the goblins screamed, his voice cracking with terror.

The creature let out a guttural snarl, the sound vibrating through the air like a thunderclap. Its form shifted and twisted, the edges of its body dissolving into the mist before reforming. It moved with a predatory grace, its steps silent but deliberate as it approached the Horde.

“Hold your ground!” Volk bellowed, raising his weapon. “It’s testing us. Don’t break formation!”

But fear was a powerful force. One of the goblins broke ranks, stumbling backward as he tried to put distance between himself and the creature.

“No!” Volk roared, but it was too late.

The monster lunged, its massive maw opening wide as it closed the distance in an instant. The goblin barely had time to scream before the creature snapped its jaws shut around him. The sound of crunching bones and tearing flesh filled the air as the goblin was lifted off the ground and swallowed whole.

The Horde stood in stunned silence, their faces pale with shock.

But then, something strange happened. The creature paused, its body flickering like a flame in the wind. Its glowing eyes dimmed, and its form began to dissolve, breaking apart into tendrils of mist. The goblin, still whole and unharmed, dropped to the ground with a thud, gasping for air.

“What—what just happened?” the goblin stammered, his eyes wide with terror.

The monster let out a final, guttural growl before disappearing completely, its body dissolving into the mist as though it had never been there.

“It wasn’t real,” Volk muttered, his eyes narrowing. “A trick of the mist.”

“But I felt it,” the goblin whispered, clutching his chest. “It was real. The pain, the teeth—it was all real.”

Volk knelt down, his eyes scanning the goblin’s trembling form. There were no wounds, no blood—nothing to suggest he’d been attacked at all. Yet the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

“The mist is more dangerous than we thought,” Volk said, rising to his feet. “It can manifest illusions so vivid they feel real. But it’s still a trick. It can’t harm us if we don’t let it.”

“Tell that to my soul,” the goblin muttered, earning a sharp glare from Volk.

“Steel yourselves!” Volk shouted, his voice cutting through the fear. “This mountain wants us to falter, to break. But we won’t. Stay together, stay strong, and trust in each other. The mist is mysterious.”

The Horde trudged through the relentless mist, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint shuffle of feet and the occasional creak of their armor. Volk led the group with sharp vigilance, his eyes scanning the swirling fog that seemed to press in from all directions. The memory of the last encounter weighed heavily on them, the fear of being deceived again by phantom monsters lingering in their minds.

The mist thickened further, its tendrils creeping along the ground like searching fingers. The air felt heavier now, each breath a laborious effort. The faint whispers they had grown accustomed to became louder, sharper, resembling a cacophony of indecipherable voices that grated against their nerves.

Something was wrong.

Volk’s instincts screamed at him. He slowed his steps, raising a hand to signal the Horde to stop. The goblins halted immediately, their small frames tense with unease. The ogres gripped their weapons, their knuckles white against the hafts of their massive clubs.

“Stay close,” Volk commanded, his voice a low growl. “The mist is playing tricks again, but this time… it feels different.”

The Horde nodded silently, their eyes darting nervously through the fog. The whispers seemed to grow louder, coalescing into a rhythm, a strange cadence that set their hearts pounding.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Volk saw it.

A shadow moved within the mist.

It was faint at first, just a flicker of movement that could have been the fog shifting. But then it grew larger, more defined. The shape was massive, its outline jagged and uneven, like a creature formed from the mist itself. It had no clear form, no face, but its presence was undeniable.

“Another trick,” one of the goblins whispered, his voice shaking. “It’s just like the last one. It’s not real.”

“Maybe,” Volk replied, his gaze locked on the creature. “But don’t assume anything. Stay alert.”

The shadow moved closer, the mist parting around it like water around a ship’s hull. It was slow, deliberate, each step echoing in the unnatural silence. The whispers grew louder still, almost deafening now, as if the mist itself were alive and screaming.

Volk tightened his grip on his weapon. Something about this one felt… tangible. The air around it seemed heavier, denser, as though it were warping reality itself.

The creature stopped just a few paces from the Horde, its formless body writhing like a mass of shadows caught in a storm. It towered over them, its presence oppressive and suffocating. The whispers stopped abruptly, plunging the group into a silence so complete it was almost deafening.

One of the ogres stepped forward, his massive club raised. “It’s just another illusion,” he grunted, his voice steady despite the tension in his stance. “Watch this.”

He swung the club with all his might, the weapon cutting through the air with a loud whoosh. The mist creature didn’t flinch. Instead, the club passed through it harmlessly, just as they had expected.

“See?” the ogre said, turning back to the group. “Nothing but smoke and—”

Before he could finish, the creature lunged.

It moved with blinding speed, its shadowy form twisting and contorting as it struck. The ogre stumbled back, clutching his arm. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the ground beneath him.

The Horde froze, their eyes wide with shock.

“It’s not fake!” one of the goblins screamed, his voice breaking the silence. “It’s real! It’s real!”

The creature reared back, its form shifting and solidifying as it prepared to strike again. Volk stepped forward, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with determination.

“Hold your ground!” he bellowed. “This one isn’t like the others. Fight!”

The Horde snapped out of their stupor, their weapons raised as they prepared to face the very real danger before them. But even as they moved to defend themselves, the creature let out a low, guttural growl, its form rippling with malevolent energy.

Volk tightened his grip on his blade, his mind racing. The rules of this mist had just changed.

The mist clung to them like a living thing, a shroud that swallowed sight and sound, leaving only the oppressive silence and the occasional, nerve-shredding roar of unseen creatures. Volk led the Horde through the fog, his every step deliberate and cautious. The ground beneath them was uncertain, shifting between solid stone and slick, unsteady soil. Even the wind, which had once been a faint whisper, seemed to have abandoned them.

Around them, shadows danced in the mist, flickering in and out of existence like ghosts. The Horde tightened their formation, weapons drawn and eyes darting nervously through the swirling fog. The air was thick with tension, and every faint rustle or distant growl set their nerves on edge.

“This place is cursed,” one of the goblins muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. “It’s like the mist is alive.”

“Quiet,” Volk snapped, his voice low but firm. “Keep your focus. Whatever’s out there, we’ll deal with it.”

The words were meant to reassure, but even Volk couldn’t deny the unease crawling up his spine. The mist played tricks on the eyes, turning every shadow into a lurking predator and every faint sound into a threat.

Suddenly, a monstrous form emerged from the fog ahead, its hulking shape grotesque and unnatural. The Horde braced themselves, weapons raised, ready to strike. But as they watched, the creature dissolved into the mist, leaving nothing but empty air.

“Another fake,” one of the ogres grumbled, lowering his club. “This mist is just toying with us.”

But before they could relax, a second creature appeared, this one smaller but no less menacing. It charged at them with terrifying speed, its glowing eyes piercing through the fog. The Horde attacked, their weapons swinging through the air—only to find that this creature, too, was nothing more than mist.

“This is madness,” another goblin whispered, his voice shaky. “How can we fight what isn’t real?”

As if in answer, a third creature appeared, this one snarling and snapping its jaws. It leaped at one of the ogres, and for a moment, they hesitated, unsure whether it was another illusion. The ogre swung his club hesitantly, and the creature passed through him like smoke.

“See? Nothing but tricks,” the ogre muttered, but his confidence was short-lived.

A fourth creature materialized behind him, its claws raking across his back. He roared in pain, stumbling forward as blood seeped through his armor.

“That one’s real!” Volk shouted, his voice cutting through the confusion. “Some are illusions, but not all of them!”

The Horde froze, their eyes darting frantically between the shifting shadows in the mist. The line between real and unreal blurred, leaving them paralyzed with uncertainty.

A goblin screamed as another creature lunged at him, its massive jaws closing around his arm. He swung his dagger wildly, but it passed harmlessly through the creature’s form, leaving him unscathed. The goblin collapsed to the ground, trembling and clutching his arm as if he could still feel the phantom pain.

“Focus!” Volk roared, his voice a thunderous command. “If it’s real, it’ll leave a mark. If it’s fake, ignore it!”

But his words did little to quell the panic spreading through the ranks. The mist seemed to close in on them, the whispers rising to a deafening chorus of laughter and growls. Creatures appeared and disappeared all around them, their forms shifting and warping, some real, some not.

A massive clawed hand swiped at an ogre, leaving a deep gash across his chest. He stumbled back, roaring in pain, as another creature lunged at him—only to vanish before making contact.

“We can’t tell which is real!” a goblin cried, his voice breaking with fear. “How do we fight this?”

Volk’s jaw tightened as he parried a strike from a creature that dissolved into mist. The Horde was in disarray, their formation crumbling under the relentless onslaught of illusions and genuine attacks.

Another creature leaped at them, its glowing eyes filled with malice. This one was real; Volk could feel the weight of its presence as he struck it down with a swift slash of his blade. But as it fell, another appeared, and then another, each more menacing than the last.

The Horde was exhausted, their movements sluggish, their strikes less precise. Every swing of their weapons felt like a gamble, unsure whether they were striking at an actual threat or wasting their strength on shadows.

Then, through the chaos, one of the goblins turned to Volk, his eyes wide with fear. Blood dripped from a shallow cut on his cheek, his breathing ragged. “Leader,” he gasped, his voice trembling, “what do we do now? How do we fight something we can’t see? Something we don’t understand?”

All eyes turned to Volk, their fear and confusion mirrored in his own. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the whispers in the mist fading to a haunting silence.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep