The journey into Tallenwood Forest was a descent into a world of green and shadow. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the dense canopy, casting the forest floor in a perpetual twilight. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, was a stark contrast to the smoke-filled atmosphere of Sharwood. They followed Jett, who moved with the effortless grace of a predator, his senses constantly scanning their surroundings.

  The initial pace was brisk, driven by the urgency of their mission. Jett, with his woodsman's stamina, and Roland, with his knightly conditioning, set a challenging pace. Julia, though fit, found herself pushing to keep up. Caspian, accustomed to the slower rhythms of scholarly life, and William, still a novice in the rigors of wilderness travel, struggled the most. Their breath came in ragged gasps, their muscles burning with exertion.

  It became clear, after an hour of relentless trekking, that they couldn't maintain this speed. Roland, ever observant, noticed Caspian's flushed face and William's laboured breathing. He called for a halt, finding a relatively clear patch of ground beneath a towering oak, its branches gnarled and twisted like the limbs of some ancient giant.

  "We'll rest here for a few minutes," Roland announced, his voice firm but not unkind. "Catch your breath. We can't afford to exhaust ourselves before we even reach the river."

  Caspian and William gratefully sank to the ground, leaning against the rough bark of the oak. They gulped down water from their skins, the cool liquid a welcome relief to their parched throats. Julia, though less winded, also took the opportunity to rest, stretching her legs and flexing her shoulders.

  As the others recovered, Jett, ever vigilant, remained standing, his gaze scanning the surrounding woods. A subtle frown creased his brow, a barely perceptible shift in his usually impassive expression. He'd noticed something amiss, something that nagged at the edges of his awareness.

  "It's too quiet," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, breaking the relative silence. "Unnaturally so."

  The others looked at him, their expressions questioning.

  "Normally," Jett continued, "Tallenwood is teeming with life. Birds singing, squirrels chattering, the rustle of small animals in the undergrowth. Even deeper in, you'd hear the calls of larger beasts." He gestured around them with a sweep of his hand. "But here... nothing. It's like the forest itself is holding its breath."

  His words sent a shiver of unease through the group. William, though lacking Jett's extensive experience in the wilderness, had also noticed the unusual silence during the last stretch of their journey. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, focused as he was on keeping pace with the others. But now, hearing Jett's observation, a seed of doubt began to sprout in his mind, and his analytical instincts kicked in.

  "I'll scout ahead," Jett said, his decision made. "See if I can determine what's causing this... emptiness. Stay here, and stay quiet."

  Before anyone could respond, he faded into the trees, his movements swift and utterly silent. He was in his element now, moving through the forest with the instincts of a hunter, his senses heightened, his awareness expanded.

  William, left to his thoughts, decided to put EMMA to work. He called up the interface, focusing his mind on the data collected during their journey. He requested a visual representation of the animal activity they had encountered since leaving Sharwood, charting it over time.

  The results, displayed as a series of overlaid graphs and charts, were striking. During the first fifteen minutes of their trek, as they moved away from Sharwood and entered the fringes of Tallenwood, the animal count was relatively low, averaging around five animals per minute – mostly birds and small rodents.

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  Then, over the next twenty-five minutes, the numbers spiked dramatically. The graph showed a steep, almost vertical climb, averaging seventy animals per minute, and peaking at an astonishing one hundred and twenty animals per minute at approximately the thirty-eighth minute of their journey. It was as if a wave of wildlife was fleeing something, rushing past them in a desperate bid for safety.

  After that peak, the chart plummeted. The line became a flat, desolate zero. For the last twenty minutes or so, they had encountered absolutely no animal life whatsoever. The forest, so vibrant and alive just moments before, had become a tomb of silence.

  William stared at the data, his mind racing. The pattern was unmistakable. This wasn't natural. The sudden surge, followed by the complete absence of animal activity, could only be explained by a significant external factor, a disturbance of immense proportions.

  He struggled to find an explanation. Natural phenomena – a forest fire, a sudden storm – seemed unlikely. The weather was clear, and there was no scent of smoke in the air. The only plausible explanation that came to mind was the one thing they were desperately trying to avoid: the Goblin King's army.

  A large, moving army, even one trying to be stealthy, would inevitably create a wave of disruption, driving animals before it in a panicked flight. The timing of the peak animal activity, roughly forty minutes into their journey, suggested that the source of the disturbance was not far ahead. They were getting dangerously close.

  William realized he needed to share his findings with the others, immediately. The river was their only hope, but blindly pressing forward could lead them straight into the heart of the goblin force.

  "Roland," William said, his voice urgent, "I think Jett is right”, speaking up for the first time since their brief rest began. "I've been paying attention to the wildlife, or rather, the lack of it. It's… statistically improbable."

  The others looked at him, their curiosity piqued.

  "At first," William explained, "when we left Sharwood and entered the forest, there was a normal amount of animal activity." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Then, over the next twenty-five minutes or so, the activity increased dramatically. It was like a wave of animals was moving away from something. And then... nothing. Complete silence. For the last twenty minutes, we haven't seen or heard a single creature."

  He looked at Roland, his expression serious. "That kind of sudden shift, that rapid increase followed by a complete absence, it's not natural. It suggests a significant disturbance, something that scared away all the wildlife."

  He drew on his understanding of patterns, of cause and effect. "The most likely explanation," he continued, "is a large, moving presence. Something that would frighten animals and cause them to flee, all of them together. And given our current situation, the most probable culprit is..." He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "...the Goblin King's army."

  The connection was clear. The surge in animal activity represented the wildlife fleeing the approaching goblins. The subsequent silence indicated that the army was now close, likely between them and their destination.

  "If my calculations are correct," William concluded, "the timing of that peak animal activity suggests the main goblin force isn't far ahead. We're getting dangerously close. Continuing on this path is too risky. I believe the goblin army is closer than expected, so we will need to detour."

  Julia and Caspian listened intently, their faces growing pale as they grasped the implications of William's analysis. Roland, his expression grim, studied William, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He trusted Jett's instincts, but he also respected William's surprisingly sharp intellect. The evidence, though circumstantial, was compelling.

  "Your reasoning is sound, William," Roland said, his voice acknowledging the logic of William's deduction. "It's a risk we can't afford to take. We will still have to travel through Tallenwood forest, but we should revise our plans." He paused, his gaze shifting towards the dense foliage. "We'll wait for Jett's return, get his assessment of the immediate area. But your analysis makes it clear: we may need to adjust our route, find a less direct path to the river, even if it adds time to our journey."

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jett reappeared. He moved swiftly, his usual silence replaced by a visible urgency. His news, as they had feared, was dire.