Unlike last time—when Mr. Tower had needed a mystical item to traverse such a distance—this time he arrived before Alger with a single teleport.
One had to admit: the Apprentice Pathway was enviable in this regard.
Alger's gaze dropped to the ornate sceptre in Mr. Tower's hand, and his heart skipped. That—that's the Sealed Artifact equivalent to the Sailor pathway's Sequence 3, the one under Mr. Fool's safekeeping…
Oh, right. The artifact belonged to Mr. Tower to begin with; he had merely asked Mr. Fool to hold onto it.
"Mr. Hanged Man, you seem very interested in this sceptre?" Edward asked.
Alger didn't bother to hide it. "Of course. I walk the Sailor Pathway." He paused. "Mr. Tower, have you used the sceptre to channel the formulas for the Sailor pathway?"
"No."
Edward shook his head. "That Sea God didn't advance to Sequence 3 by ingesting potions through normal means, so He doesn't possess the relevant formulas."
"Then…" Alger hesitated a moment. "If one day I wanted to purchase this sceptre from you, what price would it take?"
Edward smiled. "That…I can't say. But I think it's very likely it could only be traded item for item—something of roughly equal value."
Something of roughly equal value…
Another Sequence 3 Sealed Artifact?
Alger drew a slow breath. That was far beyond him.
"I understand."
He produced a chart and tapped a point. "This is the sea area where that primitive island lies. And this—" he took out a slip covered in sigils "—is its approximate Spirit World coordinate."
"That's enough."
Edward offered his hand. "Let's go."
A flicker of excitement stirred in Alger's chest. It had been years since he and Qilangos first discovered that primitive island, and in all that time he had only reached its outermost fringes a handful of times.
Today, I might finally see the island in full…
The instant he grasped Edward's wrist, the colours before his eyes deepened and sharpened; hues separated and layered upon one another. Innumerable near-invisible silhouettes streamed backward, streaking through the Spirit World.
About half a minute later, the world steadied again.
They stood at the edge of a colossal island, with mist pooling in midair, lending the primitive land a faint, sinister mystery.
"This is it," Alger said, sweeping his gaze around.
Edward immediately scanned the surroundings, ready for that Russian priest to spring from the air at any moment.
But "He" did not appear.
Watching from the shadows?
Edward didn't dwell on it. He had come for an Undying's Beyonder characteristic and the Tyrant card; as long as he secured those two things, he didn't care what tricks that priest intended to play.
Alger pointed ahead.
"We'll follow this track into the Black Forest. Keep going straight and we'll reach that ancient ruin of indeterminate age. Along the way we'll encounter all manner of Beyonder creatures—some are even birdlike beings that appear only in myth."
He glanced at Edward and continued, "Anything we hunt on the way—whoever lands the killing blow keeps the corresponding materials. If we come across materials I need, I hope Mr. Tower can give me priority purchase."
He did not propose rules for joint kills; he knew all too well the gap between their strengths. There would be virtually no situation that required cooperation to bring something down.
Alger sighed inwardly. If he weren't in such a rush to grow stronger—and if he didn't owe Mr. Tower so much money—he would have preferred to wait until he was stronger before exploring this island. That way, he wouldn't be so passive.
Still, coming early wasn't without benefit. If he could harvest enough mystical materials this time, they would greatly aid his future promotions.
"Our primary goal this trip is the ruin. Whatever we pick up en route is incidental. Once we finish the exploration, it's best we leave immediately—no detours to other regions, no alternate routes.
"After that, come whenever you like and go wherever you like—that will be your business."
"Let's move."
They stepped shoulder to shoulder into the Black Forest, gloomy and dim even at midday. The trees were abnormally thick and towering, their canopies dense—like walking into a land of giants.
From the depths came intermittent rustles and, at times, great commotions. The Beyonder creatures here didn't bother to hide their presence; even at a distance, one could sense that many possessed demigod-level power.
"Don't worry overmuch," Alger said softly. "The Beyonder creatures here are fiercely territorial. Unless they're hunting, they won't cross into another domain."
"And if I want to hunt them?" Edward asked.
"Hunt…those demigod creatures?" Alger's heart gave a thump. As expected of Mr. Tower—he aims straight for the demigods. He already knew of those "exploits," but still—he's only Sequence 5…
"Heh. I'm joking," Edward said with a smile.
You don't sound like you're joking at all!
Before long, the trees thinned out, and those that remained grew peculiarly strange—as if their trunks were covered in scales.
The two immediately heightened their vigilance and moved through the uncanny grove. They soon noticed rotting corpses strewn across the ground—human, baboon, goat, tiger.
Were these the Zombies controlled by the Feathered Serpent?
But why were they all motionless? In the original account, didn't these dead things show hostility to Klein and the others?
They passed through the area without incident. The Feathered Serpent they had expected did not appear, which left Edward puzzled. Why isn't this playing out like the original?
Don't tell me that Russian priest is deliberately keeping me from getting the Undying's Beyonder characteristic? If so, why even let me set foot on the island?
Through the dense canopy, Edward saw shafts of sunlight slanting into the forest. The air rippled, scattering the beams into a visible haze—the Tyndall effect—and he suddenly understood:
Could it be due to the time of day? In the original, Klein and company came at night, but it's daytime now. Perhaps the Beyonder creatures active on this island vary by hour.
If so, the Feathered Serpent likely hides by day and hunts by night.
Then we can't keep pushing forward. If we reach that priest's chapel, "He" might appear—just like in the original—startle Alger and me into retreat, then shroud the island. After that, getting an Undying's characteristic will become a headache.
Edward came to such a sudden halt that Alger startled, bracing himself. "What is it, Mr. Tower?"
"Nothing." Edward flicked a coin. "My spiritual intuition says we'd best wait here until nightfall before proceeding."
"Ah?" Alger blinked, then, after a brief moment of doubt, chose without hesitation to trust him. "Alright, then we—"
He broke off as a tense, guttural barking rolled toward them.
Edward arched a brow. "Looks like someone objects to us loitering."
Ten seconds later, six or seven black baboons came leaping through the branches with nimble ease. Their fur curled naturally; dark crystalline plates jutted from their brows, the growths rising without pattern into strange coronets.
The instant he saw them, Alger had the impulse to lower his head, as if he dared not meet their gaze—the masters of this forest, my lords.
Edward had already raised the Sea God's Sceptre.
A heartbeat later, silver-white lightning crashed down and engulfed the baboons.
They shrieked, scattering, trying to twist space to deflect the bolts—but they were only mid-sequences, Sequence 5 and Sequence 6 at best.
Boom—boom—boom!
With a chain of detonations, six black baboons hit the ground charred from head to toe. All but the leader—a Sequence 5—were killed outright.
"Chit-chit-chit!"
The survivor bared its fangs and let out a piercing cry. At once, the air around Edward seemed to clamp tight, squeezing as if to crush him.
Magnify.
Edward flickered forward, appearing before the black baboon. He twisted away its urge to flee and attack, and snapped out a deep-green curse: "Avada Kedavra!"
Puff.
The baboon's pupils dilated; it toppled backwards without a sound, dead.
"Just like that?" Alger stared dumbly at the bodies. He did not credit the feat to the sceptre—during the skirmish it had merely cleared the small fry. The Sequence 5 baboon had been felled by Mr. Tower with a single strike.
A few minutes later, a faint glow seeped from the shattered black crystals within the Sequence 5 baboon's corpse. The motes gathered, coalescing into a clenched, translucent, pitch-black fist.
The others likewise condensed into dark crystals.
Edward picked up one Sequence 6 Beyonder characteristic and tossed it to Alger. "Finders keepers. I'll take the rest."
"...Thank you." Alger did not stand on ceremony. He slipped the characteristic into a prepared iron box.
"Hey—big brother-in-law's main materials for Sequence 6 and Sequence 5 are set. The leftovers will make for excellent wines." Edward pocketed the remaining characteristics, then used Transfiguration to conjure two chairs. "Sit. We'll wait for dark."
At that moment, thin veils of mist welled up from every direction. The entire Black Forest plunged abruptly into pitch darkness, as if day had turned to night in an instant.
Creak—creak—creak.
Eerie, wooden groans rose all around. Out of the fog lurched the zombies—the very bodies they had seen lying motionless: faces bloodless, pelts withered, flesh ulcerated.
Then a giant serpent, thick as a man's embrace, bored up from the ground. Its massive scales were a sickly green-black, its eyes flaring like open flame. Greasy white feathers, smeared pale yellow, sprouted from the seams between scales, and a pair of thick wings spread from its back.
Half climbing, half flying, the monster raised its body, coiled around a towering trunk, and flicked a pitch-black tongue, staring down at the two of them.
Alger had barely touched his chair before springing up again. A cold seeped into his bones; an indescribable gloom stole upon him, thread by thread.
"..."
Edward frowned. This is far too deliberate—and far too crude.
Why would that Russian priest resort to such a low-grade setup? Just to drive me to that chapel?
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.