Chapter 524: The Dense Forest (1)
“A brawl for food scraps?”
Oliver asked.
At this, Ewan grinned broadly, showing his yellow teeth as he replied.
“Exactly! Have I ever told you exactly where we’re going? Gallos is disgustingly vast, isn’t it?”
“No, you haven’t mentioned it.”
“Of course I didn’t! Because I didn’t know where to go myself.”
Ewan’s unexpected response made Oliver tilt his head in confusion.
After all, Ewan was the one who’d suggested looting the Flesh Chef’s legacy. How could he not know where to go?
“What do you mean that doesn’t make sense? Wouldn’t it be stranger if I had that kind of information?”
Ewan shouted shamelessly, and Oliver accepted it with a nod.
It was understandable. Ewan was a Black Magician craftsman who specialized in crafting items from human body parts through necromancy.
While Ewan was undoubtedly a skilled artisan, he was far from a competent businessman.
For a businessman, integrity and credibility were essential. Yet in all the time Oliver had known Ewan, he was much closer to a slacker, a scoundrel, a scam artist, a gambling addict, a braggart, and a debtor than a businessman.
“Damn, that’s harsh.”
In any case, expecting Ewan to gather details beyond rumor was unrealistic, and it wasn’t like he had an organization to help him do it. He was a lone wanderer.
“That’s why I used my brain. I’m smart, you know. If I don’t know where the Flesh Chef’s legacy is, I just have to track down those looking for it, right?”
Oliver understood what he meant. Ewan wasn’t chasing a location; he was following people instead. Wherever they went, they would lead him to the right place.
However, a new question arose.
“But then, how would you know where the people pursuing the Flesh Chef’s legacy are?”
To this reasonable question, Ewan tapped his Head Crusher lightly. The mangled head trembled like a quivering clam.
“It’s thanks to this. When I imagine specific criteria in my head, it creates a rift in a place that generally matches. Like people fighting, driven by greed, somewhere in Gallos. It’s not always perfect, but it works well enough.”
After listening to the explanation, Oliver marveled at the Head Crusher.
Aside from simply causing spatial rifts, it had an additional function—a truly shocking revelation.
In some ways, it was even more impressive than magical items that only worked within strict conditions and parameters.
However, Ewan’s bragging didn’t end there.
“And it can do this as well.”
Ewan switched the head on the Head Crusher and spoke while watching people running through the distant trees.
They wore fur cloaks and leather armor and wielded weapons—crossbows, spears, swords, maces—all in various forms.
They were clearly people who survived by violence.
‘Could it be Milieu?’
Oliver assessed the approaching people through their magic power and life force.
They were all skilled magic users with a powerful life force. Moreover, their stances with their weapons looked well-practiced.
It was highly likely they were Milieu, fallen aristocrats and descendants of warriors.
‘Milieu also said they were after the Flesh Chef’s legacy, so it’s not strange to find them here… But what does Ewan plan to do now?’
After switching out the head on the Head Crusher, Ewan took a stance again, drawing the weapon back before thrusting it forward.
Zheng!!
When the Head Crusher struck the air, an indescribable thunderous sound echoed throughout the forest.
The only difference was that this time, the rift stretched forward, covering the approaching Milieu.
“Guh…”
“What… What the hell?!”
“Uurgh-!!”
Due to the spatial rift, cracks appeared on the Milieu’s bodies as well.
Seeing the unreal scene, the Milieu’s faces turned pale, and the other people watching from a distance stopped their bickering and fixed their gazes entirely on this side.
Naturally, Oliver couldn’t look away from such a spectacle either.
‘It’s cruder than Elder’s spatial magic, but it’s similar.’
He recalled his duel with Merlin after returning from the New World.
Back then, Merlin had created a rift in space that nullified the flames on Oliver’s right arm.
To think a necromantic item could pull off such a technique…
The charging Milieu were trapped in the fractured space, unable to do anything. Ewan then swung the Head Crusher again.
Zheng!!
At the second thunderous sound, the space shattered to pieces, along with the Milieu inside, breaking like glass.
“…”
Everyone watching was stunned, and their wariness toward Oliver and Ewan increased significantly.
It was understandable. Appearing out of nowhere and literally smashing people to pieces? Considering they were after the Flesh Chef’s legacy, this was a natural reaction.
Oliver glanced at the expressions of the people around, who had now fully focused on them, and asked Ewan a question.
“Mr. Ewan… What are you planning to do now?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
“Pardon?”
Oliver turned to look at Ewan.
As if it were the most natural thing, he stepped into the broken rift alone.
“I’m scared, so I’ll step away for a bit.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m leaving everything to you. Handle it well.”
“Pardon?”
Despite Oliver’s repeated questions, Ewan gave a thumbs-up and disappeared beyond the recovering spatial gap.
Whoosh.
The eerie wind blowing through the forest.
Oliver was left completely abandoned, right in the middle of a foreign forest, alone.
It was such an unexpected development that Oliver froze, unsure how to respond.
The surrounding onlookers, who had been watching closely, were equally stunned.
“Damn it, what’s going on?”
“He ditched him and ran.”
“No shit. I know that. I’m asking why he left him behind?”
“Who knows… What should we do?”
“First, let’s secure that guy. We need to figure out who he is.”
“Agreed. That item he used—it’s not an ordinary object. Maybe he’s really from Bin City, like the rumors say.”
It seemed that due to Ewan’s sudden disappearance, no one intended to let Oliver leave peacefully.
A truly regrettable misunderstanding.
Oliver raised his hands and spoke, trying to clear things up.
“I apologize for surprising you all. I have no intention of being hostile. I just—”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Before he could finish, the sound of taut, sturdy bowstrings echoed, and crossbow bolts imbued with magical power flew at him.
Due to the magic, they flew faster than typical bolts. Yet, Oliver reacted with heightened reflexes thanks to the Flesh Chef and immediately cast Black Magic.
[Black Shield]
Oliver effortlessly extracted emotions from a vial and formed a thin, rectangular barrier to block the incoming bolts.
Given the speed of the bolts, it was an impressive casting feat.
However, as if the assailants had anticipated this, some of the crossbow bolts had explosion spells embedded within. When these hit the Black Shield, they detonated.
KABOOM!
A series of explosions erupted.
Then, as if waiting for this moment, several Black Magicians in tattered cloaks began to rush forward.
‘Are they Disease-type Black Magicians?’
Amidst the blasts, Oliver calmly analyzed the situation.
The cloaked Black Magicians were barefoot, and their feet resembled those of wolves or dogs more than humans. They had tufts of fur on the backs of their hands and feet, and even patches on their cheeks. More strikingly, they sprinted on all fours, their movements resembling beasts rather than humans.
It seemed they’d used Disease-type Black Magic to distort their bodies, drastically enhancing their physical abilities.
“Grrr…”
Like a pack of wolves on a hunt, the Black Magicians snarled and charged at Oliver.
It was clear that diplomacy was no longer an option.
Once Oliver made this judgment, he extended his hand and extracted the animosity of the attacking Black Magicians surrounding him.
Hissssss――!
Extraction during combat was generally avoided. The reason was simple: extracting emotions from unwilling targets often led to resistance, which could create an opening and potentially endanger the user’s life.
Nonetheless, Oliver decided to extract emotions from the dozens of charging Black Magicians.
After all, he’d already resolved to use only Black Magic for this mission, and it was crucial to handle them efficiently.
[Repulsion Shock]
Oliver compressed the extracted animosity into his hand, then clenched it, causing it to erupt in a shockwave.
The repulsed animosity spread outward like a blast wave, directly striking the Black Magicians approaching with hostile intent. More than just a physical blow, it dealt a severe mental and emotional shock.
“Urgh…”
“Ugh…!”
“Guh…?!”
The Black Magicians charging with murderous intent were suddenly gripped by intense headaches, dizziness, and nausea, causing some to stagger or collapse entirely.
Even those hiding among the trees, watching from a distance, weren’t spared the effect.
Thanks to this, the assault momentarily ceased. Realizing that negotiations weren’t an option, Oliver dropped the quarterstaff from his left hand and extended his index finger as if it were a gun barrel, firing bullets of hatred.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each shot rang out with a short, heavy sound.
Every time the gunshot echoed, the heads and chests of the Black Magicians exploded, splattering red as they were destroyed.
This was the essence of Fire-type Black Magic, specifically the bullets of hatred, which Oliver fired with precision, one shot at a time.
The Black Magicians nearby attempted to retaliate, but still reeling from the shock, they stumbled, unable to mount a proper defense. Meanwhile, Oliver methodically eliminated each one, each bullet causing another to collapse in a pool of blood.
This was the advantage of Fire-type Black Magic.
It was easy to learn, simple to use, and incredibly effective.
This was evident in how, with a mix of wide-ranging incapacitating attacks like Repulsion Shock and the precise bullets of hatred, Oliver had managed to subdue dozens of Black Magicians in one go.
“Grrr…!”
The last Black Magician lunged forward, baring sharp fangs. With a final gasp, he fell to the ground, defeated.
Oliver barely moved, merely extending his finger as scores of bodies piled around him, painting the ground red.
By capitalizing on the Black Magicians’ momentary vulnerability, he’d managed to swiftly turn the tables.
Since he’d committed to using only Black Magic, Oliver’s combat style in this encounter was less about raw power and spectacle. Instead, it was coldly efficient and lethally precise.
Perhaps that was why the remaining Black Magicians, observing from the shadows, began to howl and retreat.
AAWOOOO!
Despite their feral appearance, they retreated neatly and decisively, showing a surprising level of adaptability and intelligence.
Seeing this, the other onlookers also started to back off, leaving just one figure behind.
‘Is that a Corpse Puppet… and a Greedy Pouch?’
Through his Black Magician’s Sight, Oliver examined the thick woods ahead.
Unlike the others who had paused in their assault, a lone figure with a Corpse Puppet was busy retrieving two Greedy Pouches and preparing something.
Oliver could have attacked to prevent any potential danger, but he held off, curious to see what they were planning, while allowing Big Mouth to consume the fallen Black Magicians.
“Gulp…”
Big Mouth, suddenly called forth, looked around the unfamiliar environment before swiftly sensing the situation. It began devouring the Black Magicians’ bodies in two or three bites.
Meanwhile, the puppet handler ordered their two Greedy Pouches to unleash a hundred zombies.
Given their unnatural speed, these Greedy Pouches were clearly no ordinary items. The zombies they produced also appeared to be enhanced, rather than simply animated corpses.
‘It’s not quite on the level of a Corpse Puppet, but there’s definitely some enhancement at play.’
Oliver assessed with his Black Magician’s Sight. He was familiar with Corpse Puppets, having made quite a few himself.
The situation didn’t seem particularly dangerous, though. Ordinary-grade Corpse Puppets could be handled easily with Fire-type Black Magic from this range.
Instead of attacking, however, Oliver looked in another direction.
Using his heightened Black Magician’s Sight earlier, he had sensed a familiar presence.
“First, we need to find out exactly where we are, right?”
Oliver asked Big Mouth, who nodded and jiggled its torso in agreement.
“Gulp?”
“Thought so. Could you bring that out?”
At Oliver’s request, Big Mouth promptly spit it out.
It was none other than a Corpse Puppet that Oliver had crafted recently, an unusual creation made from a werewolf rather than a human.
‘The werewolf from Gallos… The one I collected along with the ogre’s remains. Good thing I held onto it.’
Oliver looked approvingly at the three-meter-tall werewolf with its black fur.
It was something Oliver had claimed during the Flesh Chef raid, and he’d chosen to modify it into a mount, considering its impressive strength, agility, and overall power.
The saddle and harness secured with iron bars, screws, and nails testified to his handiwork.
Since it was his first attempt, the design was a bit rough, but Oliver didn’t mind. He’d intended to use it discreetly anyway.
After spotting the horde of a hundred zombies moving in, Oliver infused life force into the Corpse Puppet-werewolf, seizing control of it with Black Magic.
Rumble…
With renewed vitality, the werewolf snorted and crouched down. Oliver mounted it, then directed it forward.
“Let’s take it slow for now, shall we—?”
BOOM!
No sooner had he finished speaking than the Corpse Puppet-werewolf took off, speeding through the forest as it cut through the wind.
It moved so fast that Oliver nearly fell off the saddle.
“Looks like making it a mount was a great idea after all.”