Chapter 304: The Hanged Man

Amon continued walking deeper into the forest. With every step, the air grew heavier. It was becoming colder.

The faint freshness he had felt earlier slowly disappeared. In its place came something suffocating. Something unnatural.

The wind had stopped. There was nothing here. No crow was visible here.

The silence was absolute. For some reason, it felt too quiet.

Step.

Step.

The sound of his own boots pressing against the soil felt too loud in his ears. His heartbeat began to quicken.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

’It’s too silent. Not even the rustling of leaves.’

The deeper he went, the more uneasy he felt. A strange pressure crept over his shoulders, like invisible eyes were watching him from every direction.

’I should turn back…’ a voice inside him whispered.

But another voice pushed him forward.

’Just a little more. I need to know.’

For some reason, he truly wanted to know what was ahead. What had made those crows turn back in fear.

His body was battered. Not fully healed. His throat felt dry. Yet curiosity won over everything.

The trees around him looked darker now. Their trunks twisted, their shadows stretching unnaturally long across the forest floor.

The silence became oppressive. Even his breathing sounded wrong.

’Okay… I think this much is rough. I should go back from here.’ Just when he thought about going back,

He saw something. Not far ahead, in a slightly open clearing, stood a lone tree.

It was slightly bigger than the surrounding trees. Not massive, but noticeable. Its roots spread outward across the ground like long, skeletal fingers holding onto the earth.

But what made Amon stop wasn’t its size.It had no leaves. Not a single one.

Every other tree around still had dark, lifeless leaves clinging to their branches. But this tree stood bare. Its branches stretched outward like thin arms.

The tree was empty. It was black and dry. It looked simply like a dead tree. Amon felt a chill crawl up his spine. “That’s… not normal,” he muttered.

The tree looked wrong. It didn’t look alive. It didn’t even look dead. It looked… cursed. Still, Amon forced his feet to move.

Step.

Step.

’Just a little more. Let’s see what this tree is… and then get back to where I came from.’

He walked closer. The closer he got, the colder the air felt. He could almost see his breath.

His heart pounded harder in his chest.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

He circled around the tree slowly, inspecting it.

The bark was dark and cracked. The roots were partially above ground, twisted and thick. It looked ancient. He moved toward the back side of the tree.

His fingers touched the black trunk of the tree. It felt cold.

’It’s cold,’ he thought in amusement and nervousness.

And then he froze. His body went stiff. On one of the thick branches, something was hanging.

At first, his mind refused to understand what he was seeing. Then it became clear. A human figure.

A human figure was hanging upside down on the branch. It had black ragged clothe.

Its legs were hooked over the branch, bent at the knees. The wooden branch rested in the back of its knees, holding it in place. The legs were wrapped tightly around the branch.

The upper body had no cloth. It hung downward. Both arms dangled straight toward the ground. He was still. The body was lifeless.

Amon’s breath caught in his throat.

’What’s this?… a dead body?’

The skin of the figure was dark grey. It was not pale. The body was too thin.

Bony and skinny, as if every drop of blood had been drained from it. The ribs were clearly visible beneath the tight, dried skin. The stomach was sunken inward.

The fingers were long and stiff. The hair hung down loosely.

His hair was long, dirty black in color. It was dry and tangled. The eyes were closed. His lips were dried and black. There were cracks on his lips. He was dead. It was the corpse of a human male.

Amon couldn’t move. Cold sweat formed on his back. The body didn’t sway.

There was no wind. It just hung there in complete silence.

It was upside down like a warning about something.

Amon swallowed hard. His heart beat faster in fear.

“W–What the hell…” he whispered.

His mind raced. How long had it been there? Who was it? Was it a human like him? An adventurer? An explorer? Or something else entirely?

The skin looked unnatural. How many years might it have been since he died? Looking at the body, it felt as if something had sucked the life out of it.

His eyes slowly traveled up toward the branch holding the corpse. The bark around that branch looked darker.

It was almost stained. Amon felt a terrible feeling rise in his chest. He suddenly became aware of how alone he was.

How silent everything was. The crows had refused to come here. The forest itself felt like it was holding its breath.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

His heartbeat grew louder. He took a slow step back. The corpse didn’t move. It remained there motionless.

But the deeper part of his instinct screamed at him. Something about this place— no! something about this dead body was not right.

Everything was wrong here.

’Alright… I got to see what was here. Now I need to go… yes, get out of here, Amon.’

Amon turned back and started to walk away from this place.

Behind him, the tree remained silent. It was still, motionless.

The dead body on it was no different. But not for too long. The long, skinny fingers of the body twitched slightly. The dried lips trembled.

Amon had no idea what was happening to the hanged man behind him.

Amon was going deeper into the forest again, away from the clearing. Just when he was about to step inside the forest,

A hoarse, ancient voice drifted from behind him.

“Who… are you?”

The sound was low and heavy, as if dragged across rusted iron. It did not echo, yet it seemed to press against his ears from every direction at once.

Amon stiffened like a statue. His eyes widened in surprise. Just now someone had called him and the voice gave him pure chills.

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