Chapter 82: Cht 82: Night That Never Slept
The sun dipped low, its last embers staining the sky with a faded crimson that bled into a creeping, heavy darkness. The battle had ended hours ago. The clearing they had fought in was far behind them and now the group sat nestled in a small grove surrounded by jagged trees and moss-draped roots. There was no comfort in their camp, only the illusion of safety crafted by necessity.
Jean, tireless and enduring, had constructed temporary canopies for each of them, organic and silent. The vines wrapped and hardened with a will of their own, shaped into rounded dwellings that looked like overgrown, living domes nestled in the forest.
And yet... none of them truly slept.
Gin lay low beneath the overhang of a fallen tree near the camp’s edge, the cool earth pressing against his still healing side. He didn’t close his eyes. Even in his wolf form, wounded and weary, he was restless. Something in the air felt wrong not in the way the corrupted beasts felt wrong or beats mutual teamup, not even in the usual sense of danger.
It was subtler. Like something just beyond reach, like a thread dangling from a cloak, never catching the light.
He had tried multiple times to push his spiritual sense farther out, stretching that invisible web of awareness as far as it could go but each time he reached past a thousand meters, the strain returned, sharp and unforgiving. His soul had been stretched too thin in that memory wheel and after in that last battle. He needed rest. But rest refused to come.
So he remained still, eyes narrowed, fucused and listening.
From time to time, he swept his spiritual sense in slow, circular arcs, checking for anything amiss. The others had all withdrawn to their canopies except Xingning, who stood like a silent sentry not far from the tree line, the wind occasionally fluttering her sleeves.
Gin watched her for a long moment. So different now. Sharper. Quieter. More dangerous.
When did that happen? he wondered.
And then he looked toward the others.