Swathes of colorful fog enveloped the entire mountain ridge, reducing visibility within it to a mere nine feet.
A slight inattention could easily lead to one becoming lost in the dense mountain forest.
The mountain paths, trodden by woodcutters and hunters over many years, were already rough and difficult to navigate.
Now, they seemed to have turned into live intestines—the paths just traveled upon would become completely different when one turned their head.
The men climbing along these trails, as if moving through the writhing guts, were entering the belly of a colossal beast...
As time passed, more and more forks appeared on the mountain path, and the number of men who had started the climb dwindled.
No one had any idea where they had gone.
"What's going on? I come to the mountain to chop wood every day, having entered and memorized all the trail routes in these mountains countless times.
Why does it look completely different today?!"
