Trudging through the still-damp forest, my boots squealch with each step, sinking into the wet mud as I glance around the heavily wooded expanse.
I've been walking for several minutes now and still haven't felt a single heartbeat—something that would be strange in any ordinary forest.
But not here.
The presence of a cave entrance into the Hollow Depths means demonic creatures are never far. Mutated animals or true demons alike often stray here, lurking, hunting, spreading chaos.
It is said only the lower-tier demons—goblins, imps, kobolds, redcaps—tend to lose their way in the Abyssal veins and wander up to the surface. The stronger, mid-tier fiends are far rarer: elves, gnomes, dwarves, succubi, and cambions. Their kind carries ruin wherever they go, their demonic mana twisting once-living places into grotesque mockeries of themselves.
It's easy enough to piece together that something demonic lingers here—not a swarm, but a few strays hunting whatever life remains.
I draw my aura inward, concealing my presence. With a subtle shift of earth mana, I smooth the soles of my boots until they're frictionless, sliding clean over the ground. Then, channeling soundwaves beneath me, I push myself forward across the wet mud, gliding noiselessly between the trees. Faster. Quieter. Almost as if I'm part of the silence itself.
Slipping my hands into my pockets, I glide through the unnervingly quiet forest, the silence pressing in on me like a weight. My posture looks lazy, almost careless, but my senses stay razor-sharp, picking at every detail.
I map the terrain as I move, committing to memory the clearings and choke points, fallen logs and slick slopes—places that could serve for lessons, trials, or survival training for the kids.
Even here, in the stillness, I'm already turning the forest into a classroom.
******
-Kaiser POV-
Darkness.
All around, all-encompassing. Suffocating.
It's all I feel. All I see.
'H-hello?'
I reach out—grasping for someone, anyone—but nothing answers. Just more darkness. I try to look around, but my head won't move. My eyes are locked forward, frozen, forced to stare into the endless black. The world feels like it's spinning, yet the darkness moves on its own.
'—— —.'
The longer I stare, the stronger the feeling grows—someone is out there. Just beyond the veil. I hear voices, muffled, distant.
—!?
'GAaaah!'
Pain explodes from my sternum, racing down my arms.
It's like I'm being stabbed with hundreds of needles, my body cut open piece by piece. I spasm, thrash, even in this void, I can feel myself writhing.
'W-whats happening!? H-help! Please—it hurts!'
The agony keeps building, sharper, deeper. D-did the demon win? Is it devouring me? Chewing through my flesh? N-no, please—I want to live—
—!
Another jolt of pain. And then—nothing.
...
...
Will I ever wake up?
Is this what Nurse Nella warned about?
Death?
Is this it?
I'm scared...
'Somebody, anybody, please help...'
I whimper, but no sound comes. Only the void. Only silence.
"-i-- th- p----n- an----- --se!"
'Voices? Am... Am I not dead?'
I force my eyes open—or maybe they'd been open all along. I see only black, but... different. Washed out. Faded. It looks grey, like the world has lost its color. Yet I know it's black. Or... is it?
...
The voices start turning clearer.
"The kid's dying, give him another voltage!"
A whirr of machinery, along with electricity, fills my ears as someone yells out
"CLEAR!"
ZAP!
I-is someone else dying next to me? Did Nurse Nella find me?
The thought of Nella finding me fills me with warmth and joy. I think im going to be fine now, I can leave it up to Nurse Nella...
It's going to be alright...
...That's what the voice always tells me.
...
******
SLAP!
"Wake up, you dirty little peasant!"
A rough voice yells out at an unconscious boy who looks no older than five.
A greasy lock of hair swings as the man snarls, his neckbeard patchy and unkempt. His clothes—far too fine for a peasant—mark the only difference between him and the filthy, broken men behind him.
Three dirty men stand behind the greasy man in an old, dingy barn, all of them staring at the now-awake child. His unkempt black hair is caked with mud and grime, and wounds and cuts cover his entire body. His hands tremble as his eyes lock onto the men in fear.
One of the men in the back stammers,
"S-sir, I don't think this is the kid..."
The two behind him nod while the greasy man stares slack-jawed. He clenches his jaw before quietly, menacingly asking,
"Didn't the kid that killed Gawin have red eyes?"
The men nod in fear, their bodies trembling. The Baron has a bad reputation for losing his temper.
But surprisingly, he nods slowly before turning back to the kid, whose purple eyes tremble in fear.
"So let me get this straight... I ordered you to catch the kid responsible for killing one of my men, and you..."
He points a finger at each of the men before turning back to the kid.
"Brought me this..."
...
...
"S-sir, it was an honest mistake. They're wearing similar clothing and have the same hair. We found him in the same woods just a few miles away from Gawin's body. He was passed out, so we couldn't confirm eye colors."
The two other men quickly nod, feeling a sense of relief that the Baron hasn't killed them—or worse, enslaved them for life.
"Riiiight... An honest mistake..."
Baston Hog turns his back on the kid, whose eyes widen even more as he sees the knife glinting behind the Baron's back.
"An honest mistake?"
The Baron steps closer to the pseudo-leader of the group until he's practically in his face. Turning to glance at the two men on either side, he cocks his head and says,
"Then let me apologize for making this honest mistake as well."
SHKN!
—!?
"GAAAAAAAAH"
The Baron sinks his blade into the man's abdomen before yanking it out—and again—
SHNK! SHNK! SHNK! SHNK!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
The two men collapse, legs giving way beneath them as their eyes widen in paralyzing terror. Their friend—their leader—is butchered over and over, each strike echoing in the barn like a death knell.
The boy's stomach twists, nausea and fear mixing as he realizes the full, horrific truth: there is no escape, no intervention. No one is coming to save him. Every scream, every stab, every gasp for life etches itself into his mind, searing memories he will never forget.
Until... silence.
THUD!
The body falls onto the old wooden floor, lifeless, eyes still fixed on a single figure... the boy, whose own purple eyes are wide with frozen, raw terror.
The Baron sighs audibly before turning his gaze onto the two men.
"Get this body out of my face. Burn it, sell it, whatever—I don't care. Now."
The two scramble to their feet from the wet, blood-streaked wooden floor and begin dragging the body away.
Baston Hog turns to the child, whose eyes remain fixed on the dead man. Tears stream down his cheeks like a fountain; he hyperventilates and sobs as the stench of blood and death fills his nose.
"And you... I do sincerely apologize for what you've witnessed. But I hope you understand that this is merely business. We have nothing against you. We were just looking for someone who hurt a friend of mine, and I don't like it when people hurt my friends."
His smile widens.
"Let me offer you this: how about you work for me? You'll get decent pay if you do what I say."
He leans in close to the child, who still hasn't looked away from where the body had fallen.
"What do you say?" He glances at the corpse before returning his gaze to the boy, the threat clear if he refuses.
The boy only manages a shaky, whimpering nod of affirmation.
"Good. How about we get out of here?"
Putting a hand on the boy's back, Baston Hog leads him toward the other exit. The boy's gaze remains distant and haunted, fixed on the memory of what he just witnessed.
******
-Elara POV-
I've managed to map out just under twenty percent of the forest in two hours. The entrance into the Abyssal Veins is quite close to Eldaren, just where a tip-up mound can be found. I assume the demons themselves pushed the tree over when they came from beneath it.
There are a few good places with clearings or just enough tree coverage for practical classes and exams.
A conspiracy of ravens hovers around a certain area in the distance, which I'm currently heading toward. I don't expect to find anything other than a dead carcass; that's what they tend to flock toward in such big groups.
I continue gliding along the forest. I look at the notebook that the Dean lent me, which contains information about the forest, the creatures that can be found here, and practically anything you'd want to know. He allowed me to edit and add stuff if I found any discrepancies or locations suitable for classes.
Apparently, if you continue further east, you'll find a small village called Calneth. It's quite unremarkable on its own, just on the other side of the Howling Thicket, but the rumors it carries are what interest me… or should I say, disgust me.
The local Baron Baston Hog, who goes by the nickname "The Pigmaster," has quite a dark past. He's been involved in human trafficking, forced labor, executions, and, apparently, he's had a hand in demon trafficking.
…However, none of that has been proven.
This world is full of backdoor deals, governed by greedy, disgusting pigs.
I shake my head, trying to think positively. Maybe they are just rumors made by some angry merchant who didn't get the treatment he wanted.
As I approach closer to the conspiracy of ravens, I sense a fluctuation of mana in the air. Picking up speed, I glide faster toward it. It's minute, but still there—most people wouldn't even notice the fluctuation.
I burst through the shrubbery and see it.
A little clearing surrounded by trees and bushes. The dirt indicates that a fight happened here, and it was one-sided. The trees have claw marks along with faint mana particles.
...Demonic mana particles.
"A mutated animal..."
I mutter to myself as I approach the scene.
There, I spot the suspect.
Or rather, the suspect and the victim.
A dead moose and a dead demonic bear.
Flaring my aura around myself, I search for any other mana fluctuations, particles, anything. Somebody must have killed the demonic bear—it couldn't have lost against a moose on its own.
My senses pick something up, and I turn sharply towards it.
Just an ordinary bush.
To anyone else, it would be ordinary.
To me, it's overflowing with Aether. Someone with an immense capacity of Aether was here. As I walk over to inspect the area, the bush itself looks normal, but behind it, the grass and flowers have been trampled—or maybe someone had lain down on them, considering the large amounts of blood.
Could the person have died?
No. With that amount of Aether, there's no way they would die, at least not on the spot. They would move, try to get out of here, and get help. But I don't sense the Aether anywhere except in this spot.
It's like they passed out here and vanished...
...But how?
Anything and anyone leaves a trace. Everyone has their own unique Mana print, which is the same for Aether, and someone of this caliber could not have lost to a demonic bear.
Which means foul play was involved.
I grit my teeth.
'Someone's been murdered—or worse. I have to see if any reports have been made back in Eldaren… If not, then Calneth. Hopefully they survived, and I'm just overthinking this.'
I try to memorize the person's Aether print for reference later, before turning away and quickly heading back to Eldaren.
CAW— CAW— CAW—
I turn back and see the conspiracy of ravens hovering right above where the overflowing Aether is, before continuing my way back.
"Interesting."