The Forest of Abyss did not earn its name from depth, but from the way the shadows seemed to swallow the light, creating a verticality of darkness that pressed down on the lungs. At its heart, the atmosphere was thick with the copper tang of spilled blood and the ozone of dissipated mana.
Arthur adjusted the grip on his Deluxe Staff, his gaze steady on the woman before him. Isabel, a Daughter of Rebecca whose presence usually radiated a divine, golden warmth, currently looked like a flickering candle in a gale.
Her breath came in shallow hitches, the aftermath of a confrontation that had nearly ended in a tragedy of misunderstanding.
"I've told you," Arthur said, his voice calm, cutting through the eerie rustle of the obsidian-leaved trees. "I'm an adventurer, not a cultist. If I were with the Yatan Church, I wouldn't have spent the last ten minutes dismantling their ritual circles."
Isabel's hand, which had been white-knuckling the shaft of her spear, slowly relaxed. The divine light in her eyes softened from a piercing glare to a weary glimmer.
"My apologies, Sir Arthur. The corruption in this place... it preys on the mind. But why are they here? This forest has been dormant for centuries."
Arthur looked toward a jagged altar of black stone nearby. "They aren't just here for a ritual. They're grave robbing. Specifically, they're after the remains of Lancelot."
Isabel stiffened. "The ancient knight? The legend says he was a Great Swordsman who could command the very air around him."
"Exactly," Arthur replied, his mind racing through the lore he had internalized. "Aura. Most Death Knights are animated by 'Death Power'—a stagnant, corruptive force that your divine magic shreds like paper."
Arthur pointed at the alter and said, "But Lancelot was different. Even in death, his body retains the echo of a pure, elementless aura. If the Yatan Servants succeed in reanimating him, they'll have a disaster on their hands: a Death Knight that doesn't trigger the 'Evil Alignment' weaknesses as severely as others."
"An elementless aura..." Isabel whispered, her face clouding. "Divine power wouldn't counter it. It would be a battle of pure martial prowess."
"Don't lose heart just yet," Arthur said, offering a small, confident smirk. "They can't truly replicate him. Lancelot's power didn't come from his bloodline or a dark pact. It came from the Blessing of the Spirit of the Lake."
Arthur pointed towards the dark lake towards their left, "Without that specific elemental harmony, he's just a very fast corpse. The Yatan Church lacks the 'purity' required to interface with lake spirits. They're trying to force a square peg into a pentagram-shaped hole."
Isabel exhaled a long, shuddering breath. The tension left her shoulders, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude.
'If Sir Arthur hadn't been here to disrupt the flow of mana,' she thought,' I would have walked into a trap involving a pseudo-Great Swordsman and a Yatan Servant simultaneously. I wouldn't have survived the hour.'
While Isabel regained her composure, Arthur opened his status window. The air around him seemed to hum as he felt the latent potential of his unspent points. In the world of Satisfy, efficiency was the only true currency.
He didn't hesitate. He funneled 510 points into Stamina and Agility.
The transformation was internal and violent. His muscle fibers tightened and wove themselves into denser strands; his perception of time slowed as his nervous system accelerated.
The heavy dampness of the forest no longer felt like a weight, but a medium he could glide through.
[Updated Status]
Name: Arthur
Level: 102
Health: 13,100 / 13,100
Mana: 13,750 / 13,750
Basic Stats:
Strength: 370
Stamina: 750
Agility: 805
Intelligence: 750 (+150)
Available Stat Points: 150 (Reserved)
He kept a reserve of 150 points. Flexibility was the hallmark of a master; he needed to be able to dump points into Intelligence or Strength depending on the boss's resistances.
"Sir Arthur," Isabel interrupted his thoughts, her voice regaining its authoritative chime. "I have a request. My fellow believers are tied down in the southern provinces. The Decaying Forest ahead is crawling with Yatan followers. If you help me purge them, I will owe you a debt of the Spear. I will come to your aid, no matter the distance, should you call."
A notification flared gold in Arthur's vision.
[Hidden Quest: Isabel's Request]
Difficulty: A+ to S-
Clear Conditions: Eliminate all Yatan Followers in the Decaying Forest.
Additional Objective: Kill all followers using only magic (Martial arts restricted for finishing blows).
Rewards: Isabel Affinity +10, Rebecca Church Affinity +5, High Healing Scroll, +100 INT, +2 Skill Levels to Magic, +50 Stat Points.
"I accept," Arthur said.
Isabel smiled and said,"Good luck, but stay alert. The 6th Servant Malacus is overseeing this sector, accompanied by the 7th Servant, DarkBus."
The mention of Malacus sent a chill down Arthur's spine. In the original timeline, Malacus was the mountain that Grid and the Tzedakah Guild had to climb together.
If Arthur killed him here, the kidnapping of Lady Irene might never happen. The Butterfly Effect was a terrifying prospect, but the rewards of the present were too great to ignore.
The Decaying Forest was a labyrinth of rotting timber and toxic fungal blooms. Arthur moved like a ghost, his 805 Agility making his footsteps silent even on dried leaves.
He didn't have to wait long. A clearing opened up, revealing a staggering sight: thirty-seven Black Magicians clad in obsidian robes, their voices chanting a discordant dirge that made the very air vibrate with malice.
"Intruder!" one hissed, spotting Arthur's silhouette. Thirty-seven hands rose. Thirty-seven sparks of baleful Fireball magic ignited.
Arthur didn't retreat. He stepped forward, his Deluxe Staff spinning in a blur. This wasn't a fight for a traditional mage; a traditional mage would be turned to ash in seconds. But Arthur was a tactician.
"Water Bolt."
"Fireball."
He cast them simultaneously—one in each hand's conceptual focus. Instead of launching them at the enemies, he smashed the spells together directly above his head.
BOOM.
The conflicting temperatures resulted in a violent physical reaction. A massive, artificial cloud of scalding steam erupted outward, instantly blanketing the clearing in a white-out fog.
"I can't see! Where is he?"
"Use mana detection!"
"Too late," Arthur whispered.
Using Master of Mana, he didn't just look for his enemies; he felt the "holes" in the world where their dark mana displaced the natural flow. He launched Stone Arrows with surgical precision. Each shot was timed to the beat of a cultist's panicked heart. Seven fell before the fog even began to thin.
Thirty magicians remained. Realizing they were being picked off, they formed a defensive circle and unleashed a synchronized volley of thirty fireballs toward the center of the mist.
Arthur slammed his staff into the soil. "Earth Wall."
A circular rampart of mud wall surged from the earth, encasing him. The fireballs slammed into the dirt with the force of falling meteors, the heat turning the surface of the wall into molten glass, but the structure held.
Arthur felt the heat through the mud, but his high Stamina kept his breathing steady. He waited and listened to the sound of their heavy breathing, then followed the squelch of their boots in the mud.
The cultists had made a fatal mistake: they were drenched. The steam from his initial explosion had condensed on their robes, and his subsequent Water Bolts had turned the clearing into a mire.
Arthur dropped the Earth Wall. He stood in the center of the steaming crater, his eyes glowing with a sharp, azure intensity.
He didn't use a spell from his book. He reached into the raw mana of the air, manipulating the friction between the moisture and the wind.
"Chain Lightning!"
A jagged bolt of pure white electricity erupted from his fingertips. In a normal environment, it might have hit three or four targets. But here, in a forest of soaked cultists standing in a puddle?
The bolt struck the first magician, and the physics of the world took over. The current roared through the water, leaping from man to man in a blinding web of blue light. Screams were cut short by the smell of ozone and charred cloth.
Thirteen men collapsed instantly, their hearts stopped by the surge.
[Achievement!] You have learned 'Chain Lightning' without system assistance by utilizing environmental conductivity!
[Quest Update] Additional Objective Met: All enemies eliminated with magic.
The silence that followed was heavy. Arthur stood amidst the fallen, but there was no triumph on his face.
He checked his notifications, seeing the new Dexterity stat unlock and the "Magic Coating" skills appearing in his library.
His eyes darted to the north. "I took too long," he muttered.
If Malacus was nearby, he would have felt that discharge of mana. If Isabel encountered him alone while he was busy with the rabbles, Malacus will be killed.
"Magic Coating: Legs."
"Acceleration."
Arthur's boots glowed with a faint, pulsing violet light. He took a step, and the ground behind him cracked from the force of his departure. He wasn't just running; he was falling forward at a terminal velocity regulated by magic. He had a timeline to protect, even if he had to spare a few Servants of Yatan for it.
"Hold on, Isabel," he breathed, his voice lost in the sonic boom of his own movement. "Do not kill the Servants! Or I'm done for."