On the banks of the Reed River stood the camp of the Rot Moss Tribe. Green-scaled figures darted through the reeds, spearfishing, while others laid out fishing nets, dried meat, and fragrant, bitter herbs and moss to dry on the shore.
The arrival of a merchant shattered the tribe's tranquility on this otherwise ordinary afternoon.
Lizardmen of all sizes gathered from their green huts, from beside the drying racks, and from under the shade of trees. Their amber, vertical-slitted pupils curiously sized up the human merchant who had entered their camp.
The younglings excitedly poked their heads around the cart wheels, letting out soft, hissing cries, only to be hushed by the adult Lizardmen.
The scene was primitive and rugged, yet it hummed with a lively, boisterous energy unique to the tribe.
However, the sounds faintly emanating from the center of the crowd didn't seem so harmonious. It sounded more like an argument.
Sergash and her older sister, Semia, were a short distance away inspecting the newly dried herbs when the commotion in the camp drew their attention. Curious, she stood on her tiptoes, peering toward the out-of-place human figure at the center of the crowd.
"What's happening, Sister?" Sergash asked in a low voice.
Semia's amber, slitted eyes swept over the crowd. She simply shook her head slightly, gesturing for Sergash to go see for herself.
Sergash squeezed into the circle of Lizardmen and tried to ask a young Warrior standing beside her.
The young Lizardman glanced at her, recognized her as the outsider's sister, and turned his head away, clearly having no intention of answering her.
Old Shazak noticed the commotion, cleared his throat, and reprimanded the young Lizardman for his rudeness.
"Show respect to Shaman Sergash."
Then, he turned to Sergash and her sister, tapping his tail lightly on the ground as a greeting.
"This human merchant."
Old Shazak looked toward Yano.
"He says he wants to go to a... 'forest path that monsters dare not approach.'"
"We've lived in the swamp for dozens of rainy seasons. We know every puddle and every Ancient Tree, but we've never heard of such a path."
"I believe Mr. Yano must be mistaken about something."
The words were spoken idly, but they caught Sergash's full attention.
Standing to the side, Sergash's thoughts began to whirl.
'A forest path? One that monsters dare not approach?'
'That description... isn't that the Shunfeng Forest Path, the one the Lord Emissary cleared?'
'This human knows about that path. Could he be connected to the Lord Emissary?'
Meanwhile, Yano was starting to get a headache. Sweat trickled down his temples, half from the swamp's sweltering heat and half from anxiety.
He gestured wildly, trying to describe the path's features—clean, no monsters, leading deep into the swamp—but his vocabulary in the Lizardman tongue, learned in a last-minute cram session, was pitifully small, and his pronunciation was even stranger.
Old Shazak and the surrounding Lizardmen looked completely baffled, and a few of the younger ones couldn't help but snicker.
The communication gap was as wide as a chasm. He felt like a fool trying to explain the sky to a fish.
'These Lizardmen really don't know about the path? What a joke.'
He didn't know the swamp's paths himself. Without a map, he'd never find the forest road, so all he could do was repeat his explanation over and over in vain.
Sergash's gaze lingered on the anxious human merchant.
She keenly observed that despite his predicament, his eyes held none of the contempt or calculation she was used to seeing in human merchants.
'Only anxiety and a kind of... restrained attempt at politeness?'
'Is it because the Rot Moss Tribe saved him? Or... is it because of the Lord Emissary that he has a different attitude toward Lizardmen?'
An idea quickly formed in her mind.
She inconspicuously backed away to the edge of the crowd. From the small leather pouch she carried, she quickly pulled out a crude map made of waterproof tanned hide, marked with the tribe's general hunting grounds and water sources.
She carefully wrapped a pigeon-egg-sized piece of gray gravel crystal in the map, then tucked it into a gap between a pile of hemp sacks on the edge of the cart.
...
「An hour later.」
Yano left the boisterous but relatively safe confines of the Rot Moss Tribe and ventured deep into the dark and humid Swamp Forest.
The closer he got to the area from his memory, the more frantically his heart pounded.
He couldn't help but recall that silhouette in the mist, a shape of flowing darkness, and those emotionless, ghostly green "eyes."
'Delivering myself to its doorstep this time... what will be waiting for me?'
To dispel the faint fear in his heart, he subconsciously reached into his coat.
There, he found what he'd accidentally discovered in the gap between the hemp sacks while organizing his goods—a crude Lizardman map, and wrapped inside it, a hard, cold piece of gray gravel crystal.
He unfolded the map on a wooden crate and, by the faint light filtering through the trees, carefully tried to make out the direction of the forest path.
A question rose unbidden in his mind.
'Who gave me this map?'
'Could there be Believers of that Demon in the Rot Moss Tribe as well?'
He felt as if he were being watched, and any lingering hope he'd had of getting lucky vanished into thin air.
He tried to calm himself down.
'It's nothing, Yano,' he told himself. 'Just a deal with a Demon.'
'Nothing to be afraid of...'
Well, that reassurance didn't work at all. In fact, it only made his heart grow heavier.
He felt like a wild boar that had willingly trotted into an oven, now pondering how to best roast its own thick fat until it was sizzling, golden, and dripping with oil, all to sate the Demon's bottomless, greedy appetite.
While his thoughts churned wildly in fear, his feet had already carried him mechanically to the end of the forest path.
Ahead, a toxic fog so thick it seemed impossible to dissolve completely swallowed the road.
He took a tentative step, trying to push through the suffocating barrier, but each time he lifted his leg, he found himself back where he started.
Yano stood frozen, a bone-deep fear of the Demon seeping into his marrow. Finally, an idea he himself found utterly insane took hold.
To call it.
He was actually going to personally summon that infernal being from the depths of hell right before his very eyes!
"Great Lord of the Swamp! Your... your humble servant... has brought... an offering for you."
Yano's hoarse, trembling voice echoed through the forest.
The words had barely left his mouth when immense regret flooded him. He wanted to run, to take back the fatal invitation, but his feet were rooted to the spot.
Too late!
From the depths of the thick fog, an incredibly oppressive silhouette suddenly appeared!
It carried with it the settled decay and nauseating aura of fear from the swamp's depths as it pushed through the mist.
Yano's heart was about to pound out of his chest!
He stared intently at the approaching shadow as a terrifying image of the Demon flooded his mind—knotted muscles, a head crowned with twisted horns, crimson eyes burning with an unholy fire that bewitched souls, every step shaking the very earth...
The shadow swelled rapidly in his vision, its outline growing clearer. Fear and despair peaked as he could almost smell the imaginary stench of death, a mix of sulfur and blood!
The fog was violently torn open by some force, and the figure that had been brewing ultimate terror finally stepped out completely...
A... soft, translucent, slightly wobbling, jelly-like...
...Slime?
Huh?!
...
Chen Yu had been a bit troubled lately.
He had discovered some corrupted Swamp Crocodiles deep in the swamp.
It seemed the power that fascinated the Lizardmen originated from the swamp's depths.
In other words, his territory was surrounded by those crazed, corrupted Believers.
All it would take was a heavy rainstorm or the right opportunity, and the corrupted monsters from deep within the swamp would pour out en masse to join the corrupted Sub-humans outside and overrun the entire swamp.
They would knock him, the new overlord of the swamp, from his high perch.
The struggle for dominance was always like this.
'I didn't think these corrupted Believers would be so devious.'
'To defend my position, I have to strike hard and repel these impudent invaders.'
He was still racking his brain, trying to figure out how to teach them a lesson, when a figure appeared out of the swamp's toxic fog.
It was none other than the returning Yano.