Nero's eyes widened and a heavy feeling settled in his chest.
The sound that reached him, was crying.
Not the shriek of an Abomination or the death rattle of some wounded beast as one would expect.
No. It was the discordant noise of a wailing child.
High-pitched, broken, and desperate like the cry of an infant seeking its mother.
Nero froze mid-step, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the Silver Blade.
Something was instinctively wrong with that for various reasons.
'A trap. Another ghost?' was the first thought to appear in his mind. He cautiously looked around.
The sound echoed through the trees, bouncing off the twisted trunks and purple leaves until it seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Something was wrong.
Something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn around. To run. To get as far away from that sound as possible. Even his body trembled in terror.
But then he saw it.
