Chapter 34: Night Turned to Morning

Night turned to morning, but Graham and Marguerite had yet to return. The space within the forest was twisted, so maybe it would take some time to conquer. Or perhaps there were other factors at play. In any case, it was about time for Belgrieve to begin worrying.

“I can’t imagine anything bad happening to those two, but...”

“You can never know. Perhaps the demon was stronger than expected... Bell! Let’s go help out after all!” Duncan said with heated fervor.

It was certainly curious. However, if they were up against a foe even those two could not match, Belgrieve doubted he would be of any assistance. No—perhaps if they were injured and retreating, he could at least offer support.

He prayed they were simply taking their time on a long and twisted trail, and that if it was something worse, perhaps he could help out. Both Belgrieve and Duncan were confident enough with their weapons—at least, confident that they wouldn’t drag anyone down. Their efforts would not be wasted, in any case.

“Got it... Let’s go. But we’re not good enough for a demon. Watch the situation closely and don’t do anything reckless.”

“Well said, Bell! Ha ha ha! I’m raring to go!”

Does he really get it? Belgrieve wondered, though Duncan’s never-changing cheer certainly helped keep him settled as well.

They each picked up their weapons and headed out. It was a cloudy morning, their shadows only faintly lingering at their feet.

Into the woods they went, defeating low-grade fiends along the way. The farther they ventured in, the more everything seemed to turn a pale, ashen shade. The trees, the ground, and everything else were gradually losing their features. In this empty whiteness, the shadows that still loomed seemed all the more ominous.

Belgrieve had walked these woods for over twenty years, but this was all completely new. He took out a compass, and the needle spun around wildly—it did not seem he would be getting his bearings anytime soon. At this time of day, the winds mostly blew towards the mountain, yet even the winds seemed to shift irregularly in every direction.

After choosing a single direction and walking, they soon realized they were back where they had started, with only the corpse of a fiend as proof.

“Looks like it really is twisted in here...”

“Any idea where we’re headed, Bell?” Duncan said, resting his battle-axe against his shoulder.

Belgrieve tapped his peg leg against the ground and looked upward. The sky beyond the leaves was a pale gray, and the faint shadows made it hard to tell where the sun was shining from.

“How troublesome... This isn’t the forest I know...”

“Hmm... Now what?” Duncan stuck his weapon into the ground and leaned against it.

For a while, Belgrieve looked around, but he eventually began walking to test his theory.

Duncan followed, rather startled. “You know the way?”

“No, I’m going off a hunch.”

“A...hunch?” Duncan furrowed his brow anxiously, but Belgrieve returned a smile.

“It might seem laughable, but when thinking it out doesn’t work, we can try relying on our innate animalistic instincts.”

“I...see. If you say so...”

Duncan didn’t seem so convinced, but he decided to trust Belgrieve. He tagged along, keeping a close watch of their surroundings.

After walking a while, they came to where the tree roots twisted into knots beneath their feet. In this place, moss, lichen, and other such things spread far and wide like a carpet, and the trees towered high above, their branches entangled in convoluted ways to form a ceiling of sorts.

“It’s changed considerably...”

Belgrieve cautiously took in the lay of the land, assessing the wind, any traces of fiends, and the directions he could be attacked from if it came to combat. While he pressed on with instinct and rule of thumb, he was still trying to find some sort of logic behind the situation.

That was when a wind blew from directly overhead. There was a rustling sound as one of the branches swayed.

Belgrieve looked upward. “I see... I’ve got it.” He began to walk away.

Duncan rushed to keep up. “Wh-What do you mean, Bell? I don’t get any of this...”

“We get plenty of southward winds this time of year. The heart of the forest is to the north. We should get there if we follow wherever the wind blows.”

“B-But the wind is blowing from all directions...”

“Within the forest, yes. But it looks like it doesn’t stretch as far as the skies. The winds up there blow in one direction.”

Duncan gazed up at what could only faintly be seen by the light trickling through the gaps in the canopy above. The leaves at the very top did seem to be rustling in a consistent direction.

“I’m impressed... That’s quite the observation.”

“The strong gust was what gave it away. Maybe the forest fae sent it down for me,” Belgrieve joked.

The duo moved quite a bit faster now that they knew where they were going. At times, they would look up to check the wind direction before proceeding farther. It seemed as though the fiends they encountered were gradually growing stronger.

Duncan cleaved through the head of a spiderlike foe with the end of his axe. “Good grief, more of them are coming out now.”

“Yeah... But they’re B-Rank at most. That wouldn’t even slow those two down...”

Belgrieve narrowed his eyes and looked around. The trees were growing thicker, and their branches were tangling with ivy and bushes as if to form a wall. It was a labyrinth of trees; it seemed this area really was becoming a dungeon.

When he looked up, the branches had finally become so entwined that the gaps were all filled and he couldn’t see the sky.

Belgrieve sighed. “All right... We’ll have to steel ourselves now, Duncan.”

“Ha ha ha, I was ready from the start! Onwards!”

Belgrieve looked back with a wry smile. Although they had marked the trees on the way there, he didn’t know if that would be useful or not. But what good would it do to shy away now? He let out a deep breath and set his sights ahead.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

○

She could hear the grating sound of trees rubbing against each other as they moved like wild creatures, their branches twisting and covering the clearing with a domed ceiling.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me...” Marguerite gritted her teeth. Her surroundings were littered with fiend corpses, but beyond them lurked countless more of their living brethren, their hostility directed straight at her.

Across from the fiends was a child. The child sat on a branch, its feet dangling and swinging. Its long black hair trailed in the wind, and its black eyes watched Marguerite with a peculiar sense of sorrow.

“Pitying me, eh... The hell do you think you are?” Marguerite readied her slender sword and raced forth swiftly.

The fiends advanced the moment she made her move. Marguerite grimaced in frustration as she began slicing through them with the grace of a dancer.

These fiends were not high ranking, but they were troublesome in large numbers. While Marguerite was quite powerful, she was a fencer with no magic to make clearing the field easier, and couldn’t help but be at a disadvantage against an enemy who could overwhelm her with sheer numbers.

Even so, Marguerite was undeterred and moved without ever losing her momentum. The black blood of fiends sprayed into the air, staining her pale skin. She swung her sword with fearsome skill, not letting a single foe get near enough to attack her. Still, the fiends closed in like a surging wave.

The child on the branch sorrowfully closed its eyes and pointed a finger at Marguerite.

Feeling a sudden sense of dread, Marguerite leaped from the spot. A black shadow clambered up from where she had been, taking on a grotesque form. It barely maintained a humanoid likeness, but its parts were constantly shifting.

A beady eye burst open on its otherwise featureless black shadow face. Then, just as she thought one hideous eye was enough, the air was filled with uncanny pops as several more eyes filled the thing’s face. Immediately, they fixed their eldritch gaze on the elf girl, and she could feel their madness creeping over her.

But Marguerite only gripped her sword tighter, a ferocious smile on her lips. “Fine... Have it your way!” she shouted.

The shadowy fiend came at her. Marguerite raised a war cry as she met it with her blade.

Graham watched the scene with folded arms from behind. He was outside the clearing, where the branches crossed like bars to prevent any intrusion. He had not drawn his sword, nor did he seem to have any intention of assisting Marguerite. He simply observed her fight, his eyes a bit cold as he let out a sigh that could be taken as either disappointment or resignation.

“I don’t get it...” he said.

Chasing after Marguerite, Graham had managed to catch up with her rather quickly. She was an elf who was accustomed to moving through the forests, but she wasn’t so skillful at exploring dungeons. It was all too easy for Graham to find her.

The elf princess would not lend an ear to his persistent attempts to persuade her, and Graham eventually folded, leaving her to do whatever she wanted. She would need to learn firsthand the error of her ways, and he was hoping she would come to some kind of realization in the midst of combat.

Marguerite showed no such signs as yet, continuing to swing her sword with reckless abandon.

“It’s strong. But that doesn’t explain...”

Graham looked at the child on the branch. It watched Marguerite with a sad light in its eyes.

This was most peculiar. The quality of its mana was similar to the beings called demons. However, he could only feel a faint hint of it from the child; instead, the mana filled the entirety of the tree-forged dome, drawing the fiends to attack.

Graham continued to observe it.

Perhaps the mana had originally come from the child, and had been released to form this peculiar scenery. At the very least, the child seemed to be at the epicenter, and to be in control. However, even if the mana originated there, that did not mean that slaying the child would make it go away; there was a chance it would run amok once it lost its controller instead.

Even the seasoned warrior Graham couldn’t make sense of it. Despite possessing mana equal to a demon, the child never used it directly, and instead only allowed the mana to influence its surroundings.

“It’s almost as if it’s made a home for itself,” Graham muttered. It seemed as though Marguerite hadn’t realized this. She saw the child as a demon and was convinced that killing it would resolve the situation.

Graham remembered being stupid and reckless in his youth. There was a time when he sincerely thought he simply had to cut down everything that stood in his way. He had disregarded the warnings of seasoned adventurers as mere ramblings of old men.

The fact that he understood how she felt made him even less keen on convincing her. It was simply far too difficult to stop a rampaging youth.

That was when he felt a presence behind him. Graham turned to face it, only to utter “My word” in surprise.

There stood Belgrieve and Duncan, both of whom were staring quizzically at the dome.

“Gentlemen... What brings you here?”

“Well, the night came and went, and we thought something might have happened to you two,” said Duncan.

Graham narrowed his eyes. “I see. It’s already that late?”

“You couldn’t tell? I figured you’d at least be able to tell when the sun rises and sets here...”

“The distortions must be making time move differently. Here, the sun hasn’t even set.”

Duncan’s eyes widened, but Belgrieve had already vaguely suspected it. He nodded, then asked, “Where are we...?”

“The transformed heart of the forest. It’s on a small scale, but this is where the mana is amassing.”

“Marguerite!” Duncan shouted, having peered into the dome. He turned to Graham. “We have to help her!”

But Graham calmly shook his head. “This is my lesson to her... If words avail nothing, she must learn from experience.”

“B-But it’s a demon! If anything happens...”

“You need not worry, Sir Duncan. As far as I can tell, it is not strong enough to kill Marguerite.”

“O-Oh...”

Duncan clasped the branch barrier unsatisfied, his eyes fixed on the battle.

Belgrieve watched with a frown. “Is that child the demon?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Its mana is similar, but it is a mystery.”

“I see...”

It was quite hard to pin down. As far as Belgrieve could see, the child did not seem sinister. Putting the fiends aside, the child did not seem to give off any malice or ill intent. He wondered if he would be able to cut the kid down if he was put in that position.

Not that this seemed to matter to Marguerite. She saw the child as something she had to defeat—something that filled Graham with a deep sense of shame.

As someone with a daughter who fought fiends, Belgrieve could understand how Graham felt, as well as why some drastic measures were needed to encourage Marguerite’s growth. However, this seemed quite half-hearted as far as he was concerned, and it irritated him a bit.

Under the watchful eyes of the three men, Marguerite sliced through the grotesque shadow monstrosity and charged at the child. The child wagged a finger—a shadow crept from the surrounding darkness, gaining mass to stand before the elven princess.

“You’re in the way!”

She cut a sharp line with her blade through the shadow, which split and melted away. With one graceful leap, she had reached her foe.

“Drop dead!”

Marguerite twisted her body. She drew her sword back and then snapped forward like an unbound spring.

The child remained motionless, simply staring at Marguerite and muttering, “Lone...ly...”

And then, the moment she thought her sword would reach, Marguerite froze. She felt something pulling at her from behind, and when she turned back, she saw shadowy tendrils wrapped around her leg.

She was yanked back, slammed against the ground before she could prepare herself for the fall.

“Gah... Agh!” She groaned as the air was forced from her lungs. Her mind was sent into a frenzy by a degree of pain she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Did I let my guard down? If I lose here, it will be exactly as granduncle says. You’ve gotta be screwing with me!

“To hell with that!”

Marguerite forced herself up, slicing away the fiends coming at her. She tore her leg free and mustered her strength to take another leap.

The child’s eyes grew sadder and sadder as it watched. “Scary...” it muttered under its breath.

It waved a finger, and a shadow extended straight from the darkness behind it, planting itself firmly into Marguerite’s stomach. The blood was rushing to her head, making her late to react. She took the full brunt of the blow and was sent flying back.

She nevertheless managed to land safely and rose unsteadily to her feet. She could taste iron in her mouth. The fiends around her converged at once, knowing they wouldn’t get a better chance. While Marguerite wanted to fight them off, her body wouldn’t do what she told it to.

“Grrr... Dammit!”

She tried to take her stance only to stagger, but was held steady by a large hand. Marguerite lifted her face in surprise. It was Belgrieve, with a stern look on his face.

“Old man... Why are you...?”

“We can talk later. Graham,” he said, pushing Marguerite behind him for Graham to catch. Belgrieve drew his sword to fend off the fiends.

Duncan flourished his battle-axe before bursting into combat. The sight of this caused the princess to stir.

“Not yet!” she cried. “I’m not done yet...”

“Marguerite.”

Her body twitched at this solemn tone.

“Grand...uncle...”

“Be reasonable.”

There was a moment of silence. “Dammit,” she whispered and hung her head.

As he carved through fiends of all sorts, Belgrieve made his way to the child. He towered over it, and it looked up at him with those same sad eyes. Belgrieve’s expression softened and he sheathed his sword.

The child blinked.

Then Belgrieve was off. He hurried back to Graham. “Let’s leave. There’s no point in doing any more than this.”

“Did you figure something out?”

“It really is just a kid, and it’s scared. It’s only defending itself because we attacked.”

“Hmm... So that’s how it looks to you too.” Graham hoisted Marguerite over his shoulder. “Retreat.”

“We’re leaving, Duncan!”

“Right, on it! I’ll take the rear!”

With Duncan at the tail end, the four left the dome and ran. The child saw them off with a perplexed face. The fiends that had crowded in were gone before anyone knew it, and all that remained was the sound of the wind shaking the trees.

The child’s eyes wandered as he muttered, “Lonely...”