Chapter 527: The Dense Forest (4)
The Dense Forest, where the Flesh Chef's legacy is said to be hidden.
In a secluded spot untouched by human hands for decades, a man sat.
He was gaunt, with orange hair.
Seated cross-legged as if in meditation, his eyes were closed. After a moment, he opened them slowly, then stretched his mouth wide to loosen his stiff facial muscles.
"Ha... Damn it..."
The orange-haired man muttered in a sunken, gloomy tone.
It was understandable. He had carefully crafted self-destruct puppets—over a hundred of them—yet they were destroyed in an instant, in barely a second or two.
Considering the time and resources that had gone into making them, it was inevitable that he would feel bitter.
If he had at least managed to extract some information, he wouldn’t feel so wronged.
Maybe he should’ve just stayed put, as Claude had suggested.
"Sigh... Why did I have to interfere?"
Just as he voiced his regret, Claude appeared, as if summoned by his mention, right after the trouble had unfolded.
Claude, who had gone to the New World on Puppet’s command to support the royal family at the Prometheus Corporation’s shareholder meeting, was now here.
He asked again.
"Bay… Our resident bomb expert, Bay. Why did you act on your own? We agreed to stay put, didn't we?"
“Why the hell are you using my full name… And how did you show up so quickly? It's creepy.”
The orange-haired man, Bay, turned around to respond.
There, wrapped in burlap and bandages like a scarecrow, stood the Plague Merchant beside the tall, striking figure of Claude.
Both were disciples of Puppet, just like Bay.
“You're the one who caused trouble. Don’t you remember our original plan?”
“I remember.”
Claude stood up, stretching his legs with a crackling sound, the result of controlling his corpse puppets from a distance for an extended time.
“Oh, yes... Observing from the sidelines, crouched low until the decisive moment.”
Claude nodded.
That had been the original plan. Revealing themselves from the start would’ve put them at a disadvantage in multiple ways.
Being a disciple of Puppet, a member of Black Hand, was both a protective shield, like a tortoise shell, and a potential burden that sometimes held them back.
Especially in situations like this, where various factions were competing for a single objective.
The reason was simple. Their notoriety stirred up both vigilance and unity among adversaries.
It was behavior easily observed in nature.
Of course, if it were only a crowd of nobodies, most would likely back down in fear. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time.
The tyrant known as the Flesh Chef was gone, and the ambitious figures who had remained dormant, as well as the beasts of the central continent who had merely been watching, were all roused.
Rather than flee, these ravenous dogs would risk their lives, gambling for even a sliver more of the Flesh Chef's legacy and the vacuum of power he left behind.
At this moment, their greed outweighed their fear.
Claude was perplexed. Did his master really have no interest in the item the Flesh Chef supposedly possessed?
But Claude discarded that thought quickly. His master was not someone whose mind could be easily understood.
So, Claude, Bay, and the Plague Merchant had come here of their own will. Thus, they had to bear the consequences of any incident themselves.
“Anyway, everything’s ruined now, isn’t it? Your attack method is so distinct that anyone who knows you would immediately recognize it.”
“If that bastard Dave hadn’t shown up, everything would have gone according to plan… I wanted to know more about him.”
“You’re insane. He’s the guy who took down the Flesh Chef.”
“That’s exactly why I needed to prod him a bit. Our master even tried to recruit him into Black Hand himself. I had to see what makes him so special.”
Though Bay spoke shamelessly, Claude had no retort.
Even Claude, now scolding him, had once felt a strong curiosity about Dave, challenging him under the guise of a bet. In hindsight, it had been a reckless act.
In this field, such bets were generally ignored, and crossing someone’s boundaries often ended with someone’s throat getting slit.
Had it not been for Dave’s unique attitude and aura, even Claude wouldn’t have dared to try.
“So, did you find out anything?”
“No. I wouldn’t be this frustrated if I had. Just when Dave was about to make a move, a firefly appeared and interrupted.”
“A firefly… you mean a Holy Knight?”
“Yes.”
Claude tilted his head. The presence of a Holy Knight itself wasn’t surprising.
Everyone knew that the current Gallosian prime minister, Armand, dubbed a heretic, was supporting Milieu to suppress the dark magicians running rampant since the Flesh Chef’s death.
And it was known that they had dispatched Holy Knights in the process. So, it wasn’t surprising for a Holy Knight to be here in the Dense Forest.
What was unexpected, however, was that a Holy Knight would go as far as to save Dave. It raised questions about their intent.
Especially since Armand, a former Cardinal Priest, thought differently from most religious figures.
“What kind of weapon did they use?”
“A modified Gatling gun, designed to be handheld.”
“Definitely an Armand moderate. Applying holy power to firearms instead of cold steel... Good, we should spread this news.”
After a brief moment of deliberation, Claude closed one eye and gestured with his fingers.
He used his corpse puppets, which he had infiltrated into some of the numerous factions within the Dense Forest.
Though he couldn’t control dozens or hundreds of them at once like Puppet, it was enough to stir up rumors with two or three.
If the rumors were true, all the better.
“Is it necessary to spread rumors? If word gets out about the presence of a Holy Knight, everyone will just flee.”
“Exactly. The mere presence of a Holy Knight is intimidating enough, but their powers are at a severe disadvantage against dark magic, so few would willingly approach. Still, they’ll focus their attention.”
“Oh…!”
Understanding dawned on Bay, and he let out an exclamation.
“If everyone’s attention shifts elsewhere, it means less scrutiny and vigilance toward us. That gives us more freedom to move.”
Exactly. Upon hearing a few details, Claude quickly reshuffled the situation to resolve their issues and turn things in their favor.
How effective it would be remained to be seen, but it was likely that the arrival of a Holy Knight assisting a foreign dark magician would attract more attention than the presence of Puppet’s disciples.
Bay asked playfully,
“Isn’t this a bit overly cautious?”
“There’s no harm in caution. Besides, you know, this forest isn’t just any ordinary place.”
“…”
“Also, the people involved aren’t just anyone. The remnants of the Flesh Chef’s faction have nowhere else to retreat, so they’ll go all out, and the Red Hood from the central continent isn’t to be underestimated either. Rumor has it they consumed some of the unique specimens gathered by the Flesh Chef… And, though it’s merely a rumor, the Cult of the White Swan, which is known for its human sacrifices…”
...
Their conversation was interrupted by a faint noise and presence from a distance. Instantly alert, Puppet's disciples turned their heads in unison.
Even during their seemingly casual talk, they hadn't let their guard down, keeping close watch on their surroundings.
Claude's shadow flickered, and out of it emerged several female-form corpse puppets, each taking up strategic positions. They extracted power from mana, natural energy, and emotions around them.
Bay, too, pulled out multiple self-destruct puppets from his trusty "Greedy Pouch" vest, while the usually silent Plague Merchant reached under his bandage-wrapped body, extracting rotting rats, centipedes, and other insects.
Each a master of manipulation-type black magic, the three dark magicians quickly assembled a small squad-level force.
Moments later, from between the thick trees, a dark magician appeared, staggering and bleeding as if barely alive. His aura suggested he was one of the Flesh Chef’s surviving followers, though he appeared to be in dire straits.
He reached out, murmuring, “He… help…”
Thud!
Before he could finish, a fleshy blade tore through his back and emerged from his abdomen.
The fleshy blade appeared blunt at first glance but exuded a chilling sharpness, and that perception was not mistaken.
Crack! Thud-thud! Crunch-crunch!
A powerful gravitational force seemed to emanate from the blade’s center, pulling the dark magician inward until he was sucked entirely into it, collapsing as though water draining through an unplugged drain. Even the powerful regenerative abilities typical of the Flesh Chef’s faction proved useless.
Beyond this gruesome sight, a human-shaped figure emerged, prompting Claude to finish his thought.
“…The White Swan Cult of human sacrifice.”
...
[End Scene]
Inside the collar of his shirt, a small device emitted a voice, that of Eve.
[How fascinating.]
Oliver responded to Eve’s voice.
“I agree… To think that such a small device allows us to communicate across the sea. It’s truly astounding.”
Oliver was sincere in his praise of Eve.
And rightly so, as the miniature communication device attached to his collar had been built from blueprints provided by Eve.
Despite his limited understanding of mechanics, Oliver had managed to build it, and its performance was impressive.
Eve explained that she had improved upon technology developed by the Hermes Corporation, which specialized in communication devices—a feat that showcased her exceptional abilities.
[It’s not the device itself I find remarkable… But Dave’s skills are impressive too. Though I provided the blueprints, I didn’t think he’d manage to build it without precision tools.]
“I got lucky.”
Oliver recalled using Ptah's Assistant.
As Eve had noted, this tiny communication device required high-precision equipment, which only specialized companies typically possessed. It was not easy for Oliver to acquire it.
However, through Ptah's Assistant, which he’d learned from Theodor, he was able to substitute for the necessary equipment.
It had indeed been a stroke of luck.
“But if it’s not the device that amazes you, then what is?”
[The current situation Dave is in… that is what intrigues me.]
“Ah…”
Oliver nodded in understanding.
He, too, found the situation fascinating.
For the royal family ruling Gallos to collaborate with Milieu, an underworld organization, was somewhat shocking, even if the capital was reeling and dark magicians swarmed like rats.
‘Or perhaps… it’s not so unusual?’
Oliver considered this as he sat cross-legged in contemplation.
A partnership between criminal syndicates and ruling institutions might seem counterintuitive at first, but such alliances weren’t entirely unheard of. In fact, alliances of this nature were common in places like Randa.
Of course, these relationships involved both cooperation and rivalry, but in any case, they were not unprecedented.
Oliver’s curiosity stemmed from the favorable disposition of the Holy Knight toward him. A full-armored Holy Knight, at that.
[I concur. It’s rare for a Holy Knight to show kindness toward a dark magician.]
“It’s true they’re not driven by pure goodwill, and their actions are likely calculated, but it is unusual, no doubt.”
Oliver spoke, drawing on his experience working with a Holy Knight in the New World.
However, even that had been a unique situation—one that wouldn’t have happened if Philip Roar hadn’t intervened.
At that moment, Eve offered an insight.
[I do have a theory.]
“What would that be?”
[If the current Gallosian prime minister and former Cardinal Priest Armand is involved, then it’s plausible.]
“An acting Cardinal Priest and prime minister?”
Oliver repeated, unsure he fully understood.
[Yes. While rare today, there have been instances historically of Cardinal Priests from the Holy Church taking on roles as prime ministers. There are even a few current examples.]
Having spent most of his life in the secular realm of Randa, Oliver struggled to process this information, as it defied his fundamental assumptions.
“Then, how would a Holy Knight’s kindness toward me relate to a Cardinal Priest’s involvement?”
[Armand is known for his pragmatic and secular approach, even as a Holy Knight. He thinks differently than most others of his order.]
A Holy Knight, yet pragmatic and secular. Oliver felt his interest piqued, something even Eve could perceive across the communication device.
[If you wish, I could look into it for you.]
“Would that be alright? I know you’re still settling in at the Tower of Magic.”
[I assure you, everyone here treats me quite well.]
Oliver couldn’t tell over the device whether she was being truthful, but he decided to trust her.
Eve had no reason to lie, nor would the Moirai faction have any reason to harass her. In fact, from what he’d observed, they were likely treating her well, considering the excitement when he had first introduced her to them. For the scholars studying the World Tree, Eve was almost a dream come true.
‘Besides, the Elder has also promised to protect her.’
Having finished his thoughts, Oliver spoke up.
“In that case, would you mind looking into it?”
[Certainly, I’d be happy to.]
“Thank you. While you’re at it, could you also gather information on the geography of the Dense Forest and the factions targeting the Flesh Chef’s legacy here?”
Oliver requested, and after a moment of silence, Eve replied.
[Well, that’s a bit unexpected.]
“You did say it would be alright. Is that not the case?”
[...I’ll see what I can find.]
“Ah, thank you. Now, let’s continue practicing druid meditation together.”
Casually piling on more tasks, Oliver closed his eyes, steadied his posture, and channeled the natural energy he had stored within, drawing it into the World Tree behind him.
Using the green mana as a conduit, he connected with Eve to assist in his druidic meditation...
The darkness beyond his closed eyelids gradually formed into an image.
Linked through natural energy, Eve projected an image directly into Oliver’s mind—of a young druid novice undergoing training.
Through the darkness of his closed eyes, Oliver not only saw the scene but also felt the sensations within his mind, enabling him to mimic the druid’s meditative state.