Amon stood still for a few more seconds, carefully confirming that the sound was not his imagination.
Drip… drip…
It was slow, steady, repeating. It was like the sound of water dripping.
A faint sense of relief spread through his tired mind. A smile crept over his face. His luck was really good. He was finding this more easily than ever.
He adjusted his grip on the sword and slowly moved toward the direction of the sound, making sure not to rush.
In the black forest, rushing was equal to inviting death.
Amon tried to think like some normal protagonist.
The trees grew denser as he walked. The darkness thickened, shadows overlapping each other like layers. The ground beneath his feet became slightly damp, the soil softer than before.
Drip… drip…
The sound grew clearer. Amon stopped behind a large, twisted tree and peeked around it. A few steps ahead, he saw it.
A small depression in the ground.
