Chapter 50 – Forest of Demons (1)
Verden had no intention of wasting time.
Even before his opponent could move, the magic power filling his entire body moved according to his will and formed a spell according to law.
A streak of lightning shot out from his staff, striking down upon the white pupils.
Though they were the dead and lacked vitality, their bodies were hardly different from those of the living. Naturally, an electric-type spell, which displayed absolute destructive power against living beings, would prove effective.
KWA-AAAAAANG!
The mage struck head-on had no time to react, his body unable to endure, exploding on the spot.
And it did not end there. The lightning split into two branches and spread in all directions. Though the power weakened compared to the first strike, they were no more able to withstand it.
The only thing left unscathed was the gray tree.
Apparently flustered, it hastily extended its roots, lashing them toward Verden.
'It's all read.'
Without even using magic, he evaded it by the width of a sheet of paper.
Then, releasing the magic power he had charged, he swung his staff imbued with Mana Concentration, striking hard against the roots. Though it was wood, the gray tree twitched its branches as if in pain.
'Aside from controlling the dead, it doesn't seem much different from a treant.'
Its bark was hard, yes, but that was all.
Well, being a tree, it naturally had a weakness.
Triple Casting.
Three beams released from the staff shot toward the gray tree. It raised its roots to form a wall, but there was no way such a defense could block a 4th-tier fire spell.
KWA-AAAAAH!
The searing heat that burned the roots engulfed its main body. The leaves dangling from its branches all burned away, and the tree's surface was charred black like coal.
Soon, deep cracks formed and the whole thing shattered into pieces. At the same time, the bodies of the white pupils vanished.
Somehow, compared to what had happened, the conclusion felt anticlimactic.
Fwoosh! Verden fired a signal flare into the sky.
"With this, the request is complete… hm?"
At that moment, from the remains of the gray tree, a white smoke-like substance rose.
It looked similar to what appeared when the white pupils died, but unlike them, this did not vanish — instead, it began to move deeper into the forest, and rather quickly.
'What on earth is that?'
Could it be some abnormal species that parasitizes another tree?
If so, there was a chance of revival.
Verden immediately gave chase.
As the forest grew deeper, the sunlight dwindled. Before long, despite it being broad daylight, night seemed to fall. The darkness was so heavy, he wondered how any forest could be this dim.
Just as he was about to catch up with the white smoke, Verden stopped moving.
No, he had to stop.
"What is this…"
That ominous sensation he had felt before when facing the gray tree—
Now multiplied dozens of times, an overwhelming chilling aura.
His senses screamed at him. Do not proceed any further.
He tried Mana Detection, but could not perceive anything. It was as if the entire forest rejected magic power.
'Could this… be the Forest of Demons?'
A restricted area, forbidden by the principality and the Adventurer's Guild.
At that moment, memories flickered in Verden's mind.
The Listener's words, of one month and the Forest of Demons.
The smoke that came from the gray tree.
The abnormality of a treant that hated sunlight appearing outside the Forest of Demons.
'Coincidence?'
It could be.
At least, it was excessive speculation to directly link this matter to the Listener of the Ark.
But then, why did his intuition say otherwise?
'…For now, I'll return.'
This forest was dangerous. He had already lost sight of the white smoke anyway.
Turning back, Verden headed toward the subjugation force waiting for him.
***
While Verden fought the gray tree, the subjugation force had slain hundreds of the white pupils. Though there were wounded, not one had died.
Balkan had drawn attention, engaging many powerful foes including Platinum Rank adventurers, and though they began to be overwhelmed by numbers halfway through, the timely subjugation of the gray tree by Verden had made this outcome possible.
Balkan, pierced by arrows in his arms, legs, and abdomen.
Count Rodenmeyer, his body wrapped in bandages, gazed at him silently.
"Not much dignity left for a knight commander, is there."
"My apologies, sir."
"Enough. You still did as ordered. The losses are unfortunate, but we should be satisfied it ended at this."
For a greater disaster had nearly occurred.
Count Rodenmeyer decided to strengthen vigilance along the Kazerdan Ridge for the time being, as a precaution.
"I hear you played a great role, Asher. They say you're a 4th-tier mage."
"I never intended to deceive."
"It doesn't matter. Better for me, in fact. I got to employ a 4th-tier mage in possession of the Ring of Rune at a relatively low price. So I'll be counting on you again."
The arrangement of high-grade runes, classified as advanced.
Though tempted by the Ring of Rune, he had no intent of seizing it by force. Count Rodenmeyer chose instead to maintain favorable relations with Verden.
'Such talent is rare, and he hardly looks the type to yield easily.'
In any case, forging ties promised many benefits — so judged Count Rodenmeyer.
Having completed the request, Verden received a considerable reward from the count's household.
Of course, none could deny his greatest share in the safe rescue of Viscount Bailon. Even Clark, who had always cast him disapproving glances, pressed his lips shut and left the room.
Afterward, Verden purchased mid-grade magic stones from Pale to use in his magic tome.
Thus, strengthening the spells he registered, Verden prepared to depart on a journey without taking new requests.
'I must meet the Listener.'
Only a few days remained until the month he had spoken of.
Originally, he had intended to ignore it. There was no reason to heed the invitation of an unknown group. Yet the foreboding he felt in the Forest of Demons could not be dismissed lightly.
Verden was a researcher.
Even if it turned out unrelated, he had to confirm with his own eyes to dispel this uneasy feeling.
His next destination was Lorian.
A city near the forbidden Forest of Demons, serving as a base for adventurers.
***
Demi-humans, magical beasts, and abnormal species.
Adventurers lived by subjugating threats to humanity.
And at times, they earned coin by collecting byproducts from those beings, used in magic items and other goods. Enough profit to justify risking one's life.
Adventuring was a profession of opportunity.
Though promotion required a minimum of virtue, ultimately, as long as one had ability beyond that, anyone could rise in status.
Occasionally, adventurers of Platinum Rank or higher even became nobles at the urging of kingdoms, or else accepted lucrative pay as bodyguards to the aristocracy.
Despite this, the barrier to entry into adventuring was quite low.
Thus, countless aspirants took up weapons with bright dreams and visions of a dazzling future.
Yet most failed for their own reasons.
Because of fear, or sensing the limits of their talent, or being crippled by injury. The fates of greenhorn adventurers were seldom kind.
The guild, recognizing the gravity of this, asked the magic tower to conduct a study to instill awareness in adventurers.
Why were casualties so high among adventurers?
The magic tower collected global data on the causes and published results.
The overwhelmingly dominant first cause:
'Being caught up in unforeseen circumstances.'
***
"Lucas! It's coming your way!"
"Leave it to me!"
Snorting furiously, the magical beast Boark charged with its horns forward.
The adventurer Lucas wore a confident grin, gripping his sword tightly with both hands. Just as they were about to collide, he threw his body to the side and swung his blade.
KWIIIEEEK!
The Boark shrieked, its neck slashed, thrashing wildly.
The adventurers kept their distance, watching carefully. When its strength finally faltered and it staggered, a steel hammer smashed down on its head.
The Boark collapsed, trembling, its skull shattered.
"Got it!"
"Well done, Dean!"
"Today's a jackpot, isn't it? That's already the third one."
"The profit's insane!"
Boark hide was tough yet easy to process, making it fetch a decent price on the market.
And now they had three of them. It was an unbelievably lucky day compared to usual. The adventurers rejoiced, their hands moving with practiced ease as they skinned the hides.
They rolled up the nearly flawless hides and strapped them tightly to their packs.
"By the way, magical beasts are showing up a lot lately. Before, we couldn't even catch a glimpse."
"So what, what matters is now. But it's still daylight, Lucas. What do you think? Should we head back, or try to catch one more?"
"Eh, go back already? Let's hunt more! I've got a good feeling about today."
"I agree, days this lucky don't come often."
"Well, if that's what everyone thinks…"
Lucas hesitated for a moment.
His comrades still seemed full of stamina, and there was plenty of time before sunset. Searching for another Boark shouldn't be a problem. Their opinions matched his own.
"Alright, let's look for one more. Olly, pass me the map."
Lucas spread the map open on the ground.
To the west of Lorian lay a green forest. Beyond that stretched a gloomier forest.
"The Forest of Demons is still a distance away, so how about searching around here?"
"Let's go closer. They say magical beasts live in abundance near the Forest of Demons. Or we could even step inside briefly and come out. Honestly, they call it the Forest of Demons, but aside from the rumors, hardly anyone has actually gone in."
The forest beyond the forest, the Forest of Demons.
Its environment was unlike ordinary nature.
Trees twisted into grotesque shapes, and even at midday, light barely reached the ground. To make it worse, strange screams were said to echo through its eerie atmosphere.
According to records, when adventurers once marched there en masse, they all went missing. An investigation team was dispatched, but not a single one was found. And after that, disappearances continued without end.
Eventually, the Adventurer's Guild and the principality named it the Forest of Demons, forbidding entry by strict rule.
That was decades ago.
Lucas firmly shook his head at Roberd's suggestion.
"Absolutely not. Haven't you heard of adventurers dying from being careless like that? There's a reason such rumors exist."
"Alright, alright. Don't get so serious, Lucas. I know. I was just saying."
"Good. Then let's move out."
Lucas and his party headed deeper into the forest.
But contrary to their expectations of quickly finding beasts, they didn't encounter even a single goblin. Perhaps it was just nerves, but the forest felt unnaturally silent.
Then, they discovered bloodstains on the underbrush, still fresh and only just beginning to dry.
"Is it beast blood? Must be other adventurers have been here already."
"Seems so. Otherwise, there's no way it'd be this empty."
Clearly, the beasts had sensed danger and fled.
Hunting around here would be pointless. Yet they had no time to go farther. Clicking his tongue, Lucas glanced at his comrades.
"No helping it. Let's head back. Maybe we'll find something on the way."
No one objected.
Led by Lucas, they retraced their steps. Along the way, they had left marks by snapping branches or carving notches into trees, so there should have been no chance of losing their way.
Should have been.
"…Huh?"
"What is it, Lucas?"
"The trail's gone."
He had left marks every twenty steps.
But looking around, there were no snapped branches, no knife scars.
"Maybe you just imagined it? Or made a mistake."
"Did I?"
Lucas tilted his head, then kept walking.
Yet no matter how much he searched, no traces appeared. Even if he had made mistakes, not this many.
'Did I confuse our trail with another adventurer's?'
That seemed possible, so he decided to turn back.
But when he looked again, even the nearby marks were gone. And so were his companions.
"…Guys?"
His voice echoed in the forest, but no reply came.
Something was wrong. The instant he realized it, his heart pounded violently. Lucas sprinted desperately, calling for his companions.
But he could not find them. Night fell.
Swallowed by darkness, Lucas quickly lit a torch and drew his sword.
"Shit, where are you! Where are you?!"
His fear reached its peak.
As his judgment blurred and his body trembled, he saw familiar cloth between the trees. Olly's robe, unmistakably.
"O–Olly!"
Overjoyed, he rushed forward.
But… Olly's feet were dangling in midair. Dread filling him, he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Olly, her neck tied to a tree trunk, stared at him with lifeless eyes.
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
His legs gave way, collapsing to the ground.
He tried frantically to run, but froze. All around him, the trees were twisted into grotesque shapes.
'T–the Forest of Demons?'
"I was definitely…"
Then, a sound behind him.
He didn't want to see, but his terror-controlled body moved on its own. Slowly, he turned, thrusting the torch forward.
"Ah… ah… aaaah…!"
Hundreds of white pupils stared at Lucas. Even the dead Olly now gazed at him with those eyes.
And then, all at once, they opened their mouths.
KYAAAAAAA!
"Uwaaaaaaaa────!"
Snap. Lucas's scream was cut short.
In the silence that followed, the surrounding trees slowly began to move. Along with the newly emerged white pupils.
And at the end of that direction lay the city of Lorian.
***
'Almost there.'
Seeing the city in the distance, Verden descended to the ground.
It was basic courtesy for a mage. Otherwise, the guards might take it the wrong way and become wary.
At the gates, while his identity was being checked, a group of adventurers emerged from the city.
The man in front wore a platinum plate around his neck. He and the adventurers he led were fully armed, their faces grim.
'Did some dangerous demi-humans appear?'
Could it be because of the Forest of Demons?
No, it was too early to conclude. For now, the Listener came first.
Passing them by, Verden secured an inn.
He had arrived within the appointed time, but there was no meeting place given. If he waited, surely the Listener would come to him.
With that thought, he went to a restaurant for a meal. Flipping through the menu, he called a waiter.
"One sirloin steak, and a bottle of Lorian's local wine."
"Of course, sir. Please wait a moment."
Soon, a waitress pushed a cart over, carefully setting the dishes before him.
Freshly baked bread, the fragrance of wine, the meat cooked to a proper degree — nothing seemed amiss.
Yet Verden frowned deeply, refusing to touch his utensils.
"Is there a problem, sir?"
"Why are you serving tables here, Listener?"
A feminine face, a slender voice.
By all appearances, she was a woman. But simple disguise and altered voice could not deceive Verden's senses, nor conceal the essence of her magic power.
At his gaze, the waitress smiled.
"Oh my, you caught me."
From that pretty face came a deep, rumbling voice.
The grotesqueness of it twisted Verden's expression.