Narvel slumped against a fungal stalk as blood dripped from his nose, splattering on the ground and dyeing it in crimson streaks, while the migraine clawed at his skull and blurred his vision. His head throbbed in time with the fungi's faint hum, each throb was like a hammer strike behind his eyes
'Too much, too fast.'
Unlike what he would have faced on earth if he had activated these two attributes and pushed them to their current limits, Narvel wasn't really afraid of the backlash he would receive. Compared to Earth, whenever he used his powers in the Crucible and had to face a backlash, he always found out that his body recovered faster here, and his control over his powers would improve.
The Crucible's might accelerated his body's healing capabilities, for example, his pinky finger which was swollen and had turned purple had almost finished healing even before he faced off against the Ash Stalker. Nonetheless, while using his ability in the Crucible would not cause him to be attacked by Whispers, it couldn't erase the cost of overloading his fragile human limits.
Voidscale slithered down his arm, its obsidian scales brushing against the raised veins snaking across Narvel's neck. The serpent's grey eyes narrowed as it let out a low trill that vibrated in its throat.
"I'm fine," Narvel muttered, swiping at his nose with a torn sleeve.
The lie tasted bitter as his hands shook, and his legs felt like water, however, the dizziness was quickly receding.
He closed his eyes and focused on the electric buzz of the fungi beneath him. The pain he was experiencing began to dull before it was replaced by a cold, alien clarity that seeped into his bones.
Ember.
It flowed here, thicker than many other parts of this forest that he has been to and restless. It also accelerated the process of mending what it had twisted.
These stalks of bioluminescent fungi, to Narvel, were like a recovery point, they are also one of the reasons why he isn't afraid to remain for a while longer, the Ember here.
Although he couldn't use this Ember to get himself back home as it was fundamentally different from the Ember that could be found in the orbs, it was still something that could be used for recovery.
As his body mended, Narvel decided to experiment. He tried to consciously absorb the Ember around him, something he had attempted in the past. His reasoning was simple: if he could control the flow of Ember into his body, he might be able to accelerate his recovery.
In the past, he had discovered that his body unconsciously drew in Ember, much like how a person breathes air without conscious effort. Narvel had tried to influence this process before, with mixed results. Now, he focused again, willing the energy to flow faster while trying to bask in the sensation, to fill the cracks in his stamina and soothe the lingering ache in his muscles.
A few minutes passed and he wasn't able to control the Ember around him. He had failed, just like before. Shaking his head, Narvel felt that it was time he left the area. One couldn't tell where and when another monster would pass by the area.
By the time he stood up, the migraine had faded to a distant ache. His muscles still burned, but it was manageable, and his thoughts moved sluggishly, but he could walk.
He had to walk.
Voidscale coiled around Narvel's shoulder, its tail flicking toward a dense fungal grove ahead.
"Don't get too excited," Narvel muttered, gripping his machete tighter. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't be back here. But someone I care about might be in danger, and that's the only reason I returned. Somewhere beyond this forest, Joseline could be facing threats she can't handle on her own."
He didn't want Voidscale to misunderstand his reason for coming back, nor did he want to give the creature any false hope. But Voidscale remained curled around his shoulder, unbothered by Narvel's words. It neither cared for his reasons nor for Joseline. All that mattered to the serpent was that it was finally free from the suffocating depths of an oppressive darkness.
Narvel sighed, tilting his head toward the clouded red sky. The weight of his impulsive decisions over the past few hours pressed against his mind.
Truthfully, aside from the Hollow Forest, he hadn't explored any other part of the Crucible. Even after his second entry into this dimension, he still didn't have a reliable way of navigating beyond the forest's borders.
Yet, despite swearing never to return, curiosity had gnawed at him after that second entry. Since arriving in the Crucible, he hadn't encountered a single other human. That mystery alone had pushed him to do some research.
From what he found, the Hollow Forest was one of the places newcomers were explicitly warned to avoid. It was said that only Sunmoon Novas could hope to hold their ground here. When Narvel first read that, he had been skeptical. He knew for certain that he wasn't a Sunmoon Nova, yet he had survived. Maybe he wasn't thriving, but he had learned how to navigate some of the forest's dangers, even if he still avoided certain areas—places where the air itself pulsed with hostility.
Then, he uncovered something even more troubling. The warnings about the Hollow Forest weren't referring to the entire region—just the entrance. That part of the forest was so infested with powerful creatures that even the other monsters of the Crucible steered clear of it. Worse yet, no one who had ventured too deep into its depths had ever returned.
And not far from that entrance, there was something else—an Anchor.
Anchors, in The Crucible, didn't refer to the object itself but is a term. Anchors here are sanctuaries. Places where Novas could carve out a semblance of safety from the horrors that roamed this dimension. This particular Anchor was Narvel's destination. He hoped that if Joseline had entered the Hollow Forest, she would have sought refuge there.
From the same post, he also learned that new awakeners drawn into The Crucible were usually placed in environments suited for their abilities to grow and 99% of the time, they spawn in places close to a sanctuary, though the post didn't specify the level of threats they would face in these areas.
Once again, Narvel found himself doubting the credibility of the post as this Hollow Forest didn't have any Anchors in it. He also couldn't understand how this forest, of all places, was suitable for his abilities to develop. Yet, despite his skepticism, he didn't dismiss the possibility entirely. After all, he still didn't fully understand what his true abilities were.
He had also attempted to research the question marks on his information, but no matter how deep he dug, he found nothing relevant. Every lead he followed turned out to be meaningless or entirely unrelated to what he was searching for.
As for finding the Anchor, Narvel had a plan. According to the post, the tallest tree in the forest was visible from the Anchor. If that was true, then the reverse should also hold—meaning he only needed to locate the tallest tree and use it as his landmark.
That part was easy. Narvel knew exactly where the tallest tree in this forest stood. It was the only tree with leaves, making it the largest and most unusual sight in this eerie woodland. But its strangeness wasn't limited to its foliage—anomalies surrounded it.
He had come across it during his second entry. At the time, he had been starving and had spent the night tailing a small, edible-looking beast. After hours of pursuit in the darkness, dawn had revealed something unexpected. At first, he had believed he had been lured into a den of monsters and beasts, but once he calmed down, he noticed the tree—its immense presence impossible to ignore.
Then, he noticed something even stranger. None of the beasts or monsters in the area showed any hostility toward one another. Many of them had even climbed the tree and were napping in its branches.
It was the most peaceful part of the Hollow Forest he had ever encountered. The place radiated serenity and joy, an aura so strong it seeped into Narvel, loosening the tension in his body.
For the first time, he had been able to approach the creatures of the Hollow Forest without a trace of fear in his heart. He had even touched some of them, and nothing had happened.
But all of that changed when nighttime came.
'I should be able to make it there before the afternoon,' he reasoned.
If he reached it during the day, with enough time to spare, Narvel planned to climb as high as he could and locate the Anchor.
After making a rough calculation, he determined the direction he needed to go and began moving toward the tallest tree in the forest.