Chapter 531: Red Hood (2)
“Oh... that’s impressive.”
Watching the battle between the Red Hood Family and the Broken Sword Mercenary Corps from afar, Oliver was filled with admiration.
Both sides displayed exceptional skill. Even in Landa, they’d command respect and secure a prominent position.
The Red Hood Family, in particular, although few in number, boasted powerful black mages of the highest caliber.
This was evidenced by their seamless integration of eight types of disease-enhancement black magic, and their coordination was also commendable.
Typically, black mage organizations may appear cohesive, but often struggle with actual teamwork. However, this group was different.
Perhaps it was expected; after all, if they’d come with the intent to claim the legacy of the Flesh Chef, they’d certainly possess a minimum level of competency.
[But the most remarkable aspect is Red Hood’s tactical approach.]
Through the World Tree, Eve observed the Red Hood Family’s fight and spoke through the communication device attached inside her shirt collar.
Oliver agreed.
While the Red Hood Family demonstrated formidable black magic skills and teamwork, the opposing mercenaries were not to be underestimated either. Each member was a well-trained veteran, with their teamwork matching the Family’s.
It was clear from the way they each responded and executed their roles during an unexpected ambush.
Above all, the captain, a mage from the Pure Mana School, demonstrated remarkable skill, wielding over a hundred swords simultaneously.
A superhuman figure capable of shifting the tide of the battlefield single-handedly.
Objectively, given their combat strength, the fight between the Red Hood Family and the Broken Sword Mercenary Corps shouldn’t have ended so quickly.
Yet, the battle reached its conclusion faster than anticipated, due largely to the tactics of the wolf using black magic. It was Red Hood’s exceptional strategy that had made all the difference.
At first glance, it seemed like a mindless assault relying only on a strengthened body enhanced with black magic and the ability to recover through cannibalism, but Oliver, watching from afar, recognized this wasn’t the case.
Red Hood precisely pinpointed and struck Broken Sword as they faltered and attempted to retreat, seizing the psychological advantage when their morale was low.
Relentlessly, Red Hood sent his subordinates forward to draw attention like a continuous wave, while he himself delivered powerful blows using high-caliber fire-type black magic.
And then came close-quarters combat.
He controlled the battle perfectly, yet, interestingly, he remained composed, waiting...
Waiting until the emotions on the battlefield peaked and until the opponent showed their last reserves of strength.
From beginning to end, it was a meticulously calculated fight.
In the end, the Broken Sword Mercenaries’ leader revealed his final move, at which point Red Hood joined the fight without hesitation, swiftly overpowering them before they could unleash their full force.
He wasn’t just skilled. Even in the underworld, it was rare to see someone fight with such precision and strategic awareness.
With the loss of their leader, the mercenaries crumbled, their spirit extinguished, and they fell like sand, turning people into carcasses and weapons into spoils.
A low growling sound filled the forest...
The faint sounds of tearing flesh echoed through the dense woods, and Oliver observed the scene dispassionately.
The sight of them consuming human flesh might have been disturbing in other settings, but, given the location, it failed to evoke any real sentiment.
Everyone here had risked their lives in coming, and besides, Oliver had plenty else on his mind... such as...
“Eve.”
[Yes, Dave?]
The communication device attached to his shirt collar crackled as Eve responded.
“Can you scout the area near the center of the forest with the World Tree?”
Oliver glanced toward the heart of the dense forest as he spoke.
It was a question he wouldn’t typically ask; as a black mage, he could usually confirm things directly through his own sight. But this was a different case.
[I apologize, but it’s not visible.]
Eve gave the expected reply, and Oliver nodded, his gaze fixed on the center of the dense forest.
“That’s fine. I can’t see anything either.”
It was the unfamiliar barrier shrouding the inner forest, interwoven with black magic that clouded his vision like mist or fog.
That Eve couldn’t see through it with the World Tree, which could usually observe most of the earth’s surface, was no surprise.
While the World Tree’s roots extended across much of the earth and theoretically allowed Eve to monitor almost anywhere, she couldn’t observe places lacking trees, the interiors of certain structures, or locations shielded by high-level barriers.
This suggested that the barrier enveloping the forest center was no ordinary one.
[It seems the rumors were true: the Flesh Chef hired a black mage to set up a barrier around this forest.]
Oliver’s interest was piqued. While he couldn’t claim to know the Flesh Chef well, he’d gathered that the man wasn’t one to easily delegate such tasks.
He’d need to trust both the skill and reliability of the person involved. For him to have entrusted such a job, Oliver was curious about who it might be.
“Maybe we could investigate by tracing the history back to when the Flesh Chef purchased this forest?”
[That’s possible. However, the Flesh Chef acquired this forest 87 years ago, during a turbulent time in Gallos’s history, so it may take quite some time to uncover relevant information.]
“Oh, never mind, then.”
Oliver declined immediately. He was curious but didn’t want to pursue it while he had other priorities.
Besides, Eve was assisting with research at the Tower of Magic and had limited time to help him. It didn’t feel right to take up that valuable time with an idle inquiry.
[What I can confirm for now is that a fair number of people who entered the forest center were either injured or didn’t return. The injuries weren’t just physical; some had suffered psychological trauma as well.]
“Hmm... I see.”
[Are you concerned about those who ventured into the forest center first, from Milieu?]
Indeed, when Oliver had mentioned retrieving the key from Red Hood, Milieu had chosen to move directly into the forest’s dense center, setting up near the Flesh Chef’s ancient castle to be ready to enter.
It was a somewhat risky plan, yet a reasonable choice. Speed was crucial in this situation, no matter the outcome.
While the key was needed to obtain the legacy, there were also rumors that one could enter without it, leaving little room for delay.
Oliver shook his head in response to Eve’s question.
“No, I’m not concerned. They’re all capable of taking care of themselves. Plus, I believe the Iron Masked Paladin is with them, so there shouldn’t be an issue.”
He recalled the Iron Masked Paladin, who had decimated a horde of zombies with a Gatling gun.
Despite being far beyond Oliver’s range of perception, the paladin had instantly closed the distance and wiped out the zombies. His choice of weapon might have been unusual for a paladin, but his skill was undeniable.
In Oliver’s view, he was the most formidable paladin he’d ever seen.
Though he observed Oliver silently from afar, making it impossible to read his intentions, he seemed trustworthy in terms of skill. Even a barrier infused with black magic shouldn’t be an issue for him.
Perhaps that was why Lucien decided to move towards the center of the dense forest; he wasn’t someone who would act recklessly without a plan.
Oliver’s thoughts, however, were elsewhere.
“Red Hood seems to have some insight into the barrier within the forest.”
[...Is that so?]
Eve asked. Although she could observe and monitor nearly everything through the World Tree, she wasn’t perfect.
Eve was an artificial consciousness born of the World Tree. Ironically, this meant she was capable of making mistakes, similar to humans.
She could be misled by optical illusions, or fail to grasp the meaning behind certain actions.
It was for this reason that Oliver continued conversing with her. Just as he learned from her, he hoped she might learn something from him.
Reflecting on this, Oliver explained to Eve.
“For some time now, Red Hood has been warily watching the forest interior.”
[Isn’t it natural to be cautious?]
“Caution alone wouldn’t be notable, but he also seems to be waiting... as if watching for an opportunity. That kind of anticipation usually requires knowledge of what to expect. Without it, it would be much more difficult.”
After a brief pause, Eve responded.
[...That seems plausible. Red Hood’s range of movement has been barely skirting the boundary of the inner forest, a place I cannot monitor. This raises the likelihood he knows something.]
Upon learning this additional detail about Red Hood’s emotions from Oliver, Eve quickly drew her conclusion.
Driven by curiosity, observing Red Hood without attacking immediately had turned out to be a wise choice.
It allowed Oliver to examine the level of Red Hood’s black magic, his combat style, and even confirm the existence of the item called the Red Cloak that Lucien had mentioned.
In summary, Red Hood was not just any skilled fighter.
While disease-type black magic seemed to be his specialty, he was also proficient in other areas, and his battle experience was evident. Moreover, his red cloak differed from typical disguise items.
A truly fascinating figure.
How could a wolf speak human language and wield black magic? Judging by the aura emanating from him, he seemed to be a product of black magic.
Oliver decided it was time to unravel his curiosity.
Just then...
Red Hood, who had finished consuming the Broken Sword captain and his officers, perked his ears and lifted his head sharply, turning...
But not towards Oliver.
Thanks to Eve, Oliver had learned Red Hood’s sensory range, so he maintained a safe distance.
Red Hood had sensed something else: Oliver’s transport werewolf.
“Kya-ha-ha-ha-haang!”
The transport-type corpse puppet werewolf emerged from the opposite direction with a roar.
Its body was studded with steel rods, nails, and bolts, drawing everyone’s attention, and Oliver flicked his fingers to control it.
This was his first time manipulating a corpse puppet so extensively during a fight. He understood now why control-type black mages operated corpse puppets from a safe distance; they required a tremendous amount of mental focus, making direct manipulation challenging. He’d need to improve this method.
“For now, focus.”
Oliver steadied himself, flicking his fingers.
In response, the werewolf corpse puppet planted its hands on the ground, emitting a blue steam of magical energy from its body.
The machine inside it clanked, and moments later, massive machine-gun barrels emerged from its huge trapezius muscles.
“Kyaaah!”
With a short, fierce shout, the werewolf fired, releasing bursts of flame from the barrels protruding from its shoulders.
Dudududududududu!!
Inspired by Philip’s gift, Oliver had outfitted the werewolf’s body with weapons, including machine guns, as a secondary transport. He hadn’t anticipated actually using it in this way, but he felt a sense of satisfaction.
Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the werewolf and now facing a hail of bullets, some black mages faltered, taking hits and collapsing.
Thanks to their disease-enhancement black magic, they avoided fatal injuries, but the fact remained—they’d sustained damage.
Enraged by the ambush, the black mages charged at the corpse-puppet werewolf, allowing Oliver to act swiftly amidst the distraction.
“Minions.”
In response to his call, two minions moved.
One was the minion right beside Oliver, and the other, imbued with stealth black magic, flew low and reached Red Hood’s vicinity.
The minions detonated, creating a pool of blood on the ground.
After coating the communicator with magical power to prevent it from getting soaked, Oliver entered the blood pool without hesitation, letting himself be carried by an unseen current directly to Red Hood’s location.
Splatter!
The moment Oliver emerged from the pool of blood, his eyes met Red Hood’s.
Oliver scrutinized Red Hood’s expression and emotions.
As expected, Red Hood’s face and emotions were saturated with shock, terror, and dread.
This was because he was a beast. Despite his ability to speak and cast black magic, his essence was no different from the rats at the orphanage or the guard dogs at the mines and stray cats Oliver had observed.
That was why Oliver wanted to meet him—to ask him why he felt such terror upon seeing him. It was something he’d often wondered about with animals but could never ask. After all, animals couldn’t speak.
Just as Oliver was about to restrain Red Hood, the latter exploited his animal agility, yanking out his fur and using it to cast black magic, creating three identical clones of himself.
“Scatter!” he shouted.
The four Red Hoods dispersed in different directions. Oliver called out.
“Minions.”
In response, hundreds of minions poured out from all directions in the forest, surrounding Red Hood and his subordinates.