At the break of dawn, a dark figure darted through the forest, moving swiftly yet almost silently.
This figure wore a rounded high hat, a cloak, and a tuxedo, along with outdated long-legged pants and black leather boots. His face was hidden beneath a scarf and cloak, almost invisible, but what was visible were his eyes, which had turned murky and blood-red, and the blue-gray, worm-like lines that covered the surface of his skin.
"Hehehe~ do they really think such few people can catch me?" The dark figure pulled out a pocket watch and scoffed. As the power of the Evil God descended more and more upon him, more rot and sores appeared on his body, and he could even feel maggots crawling over his wounds.
But these were of no importance. He could feel a powerful force continually entering his body. Every minute, every second, he felt himself growing stronger!
He suddenly found his previous vow to eradicate Chaos so laughable. For years, he had fought evil time and again for a so-called vow of justice, to defend humanity.
Defend humanity... Ha, I can't even protect the woman I love.
"Ugh~ aah!" The intense burning pain inside made Belte cry out in agony. Having chosen to fall, his figure was now subject to Chaos's corruption and complete transformation, a process so extremely painful that even a Demon Hunting Master with high endurance was driven nearly insane by the torment.
"Not yet, not now!" A mouthful of black blood spewed from Belte's mouth. Without having time to wipe it away, he desperately ran towards the depths of the forest; this was the crucial moment of transformation.
"Tsk, more patience is needed." The dark figure vanished into the depths of the forest.
The ground was marked with ample bright red bloodstains, left by another Old Demon Hunter who had come to pursue him. The two had once fought side by side to expel evil, yet had now parted ways. Even back then, there had been a significant gap in their strengths. Belte was well-acquainted with Grant's combat skills and habits. After the Fallen Hunter's strength greatly increased, it was only natural that the Old Demon Hunter was no match for him and was tragically killed. However, since Belte was in a state of transformation, he did not have the time to chase down his gravely injured former comrade.
Days of constant heavy snowfall showed no sign of letting up as Laine walked out of the town, trudging alone through the snow-laden world.
The Nord Kingdom was dense with forests, most of it consisting of taiga forests. In this snowy weather, the taiga was laden with a great volume of snow, so caution was required—any sudden movements could cause an avalanche of snow, creating a loud noise. Though Laine was unafraid, he did not wish to court trouble.
Step by step, he advanced towards his destination. The forest was eerily silent. At this thought, Laine could only sigh deeply: the forest was not always like this.
The forest once was beautiful and teeming with vitality, but after the Chaos descended centuries ago, the mutated Beastmen tainted by Chaos appeared. Where these Beastman Tribes roamed, trees would wither and die, animals would mutate and become new Chaos Beastmen, and land and water sources would be polluted, turning foul and flowing backward. Desertification occurred sporadically. Hence, the Chaos Beastmen and casters who caused alchemy pollution were the two most disliked by the Nature Church. As soon as these entities appeared in their sights, the Church would unhesitatingly mobilize to exterminate them.
The Nord Kingdom was somewhat better off, as the extreme cold was too much even for the Beastmen to linger long. In the south, in places like Brittania or the Empire, powerful Beastman Tribes were like a festering sore to the nations. These tribes, numbering anywhere from hundreds to thousands, left no flora in their wake. They massacred all living things. The Empire had already waged several wars against the Beastmen, with even the Emperor personally leading the Royal Guard into battle in the forests near the capital.
Thanks to these Chaos Beastmen, the forests had now become exceedingly dangerous places. Unless safety could be confirmed, the depths of those dense woods harbored formidable demons. Lords often decreed that Hunters should not enter the forest beyond a two-day journey, but even so, many towns might lose a hunter or two every month.
Two hours into the forest, the corner of the Kingdom Knight's mouth twitched: "A corpse?"
The sun had already set. Underneath a large tree not far away sat the corpse of an Old Demon Hunter with his abdomen ripped open. This Old Demon Hunter appeared to be about fifty years old. His blue-gray complexion and dried blood indicated he had been dead for some time. The silver sword meant to be sheathed on his back was nowhere in sight, and the steel sword was broken and discarded to the side. His abdomen had been flayed and pierced through, his chest bore multiple fatal wounds, and in the faint moonlight, Laine noticed that even in death, this Old Demon Hunter was still clutching a dagger in his hand. His leather coat had several tears—evidence of a fierce battle. Laine therefore tried to approach to see what exactly had occurred.
After only a few steps closer, Laine suddenly felt something under his foot snap with a crack.
Not good! A trap!
About ten sharpened wooden spikes shot down in an instant from the snow-covered branches above. At the same time, the sound of heavy snow hitting the ground resounded, and a cylindrical tree trunk was swiftly swung down from a nearby large tree, aimed precisely at Laine's location.