Chapter 139: Reaching the center of the Crimson Forest
Deep within the cursed depths of the Crimson Forest, the trio led by Elton continued to fend off waves of random attackers. Just like countless times before, Christy and Shayleaf handled the bulk of the fighting, executing swift and ruthless counterattacks. This time, however, they weren't alone.
A group of crimson-eyed cultivators had emerged from the forest to assist, fighting at their side as if it were their sworn duty.
As their enemies realized the battle was turning against them, they made frantic efforts to retreat. But Shayleaf refused to allow their escape, her eyes glowing faintly red with a frigid, unrelenting resolve. Christy immediately followed her lead without hesitation. Elton had wanted to suggest a more passive approach, but after a heavy sigh, he relented. There was no point in showing restraint when hostility kept coming in waves. Still, he hadn't truly participated in any major way since re-entering the Pocket World—and that nagging thought lingered.
If not for the crimson warriors helping them take care of everything, Elton had already planned to intervene himself. He wouldn't allow his companions to shoulder everything.
"Well… looks like we're done here," Elton finally said with a light shrug. "Let's keep moving."
"Yes, Gege!" Christy beamed.
"Mhm! Of course, Brother Elly!" Shayleaf added with a cheerful nod.
"As you command, Sir Margrave!" echoed the crimson-eyed cultivators as they saluted in unison.
Elton blinked. Despite his cloak and masked identity, they'd somehow figured out who he was. Every time he asked, he'd receive baffling answers:
The weaker ones would say, "Not sure… but we just know."
The stronger ones answered, "The Master's aura is unmistakable."
But what confused him even more was their attitude toward Shayleaf.
While they showed deference to him, they referred to her as a "True Royal of the Fanged Elves." Unlike with him, their certainty about her identity was absolute. Elton began to suspect it had to do with the awakening of her vampiric bloodline, elevating her beyond a mere descendant of royalty. He'd once read about how elven bloodlines of all tribes could evolve—splitting into true commoners, nobles, and royals—based on their awakenings and inherited traits.
As they ventured deeper into what was called the center region, the forest only grew more intense. The trees became denser and more twisted; the miasma grew thicker, the poison within heavier. Monstrous beasts of wild disposition roamed freely, and magical energy saturated every root, rock, and corpse-strewn glade. This was no ordinary terrain—it was the remnant area of the Celebi Forest Kingdom, and surrounding lands, long since twisted into a grotesque parody of their former glory.
It wasn't just monsters here. The entire forest itself was known as a hiding place for rogue experts—those avoiding pursuit, those banished, and those plotting their revenge. Soaked in bloody nature magic, it had become a land where blood sacrifice and hatred lingered like morning fog.
Despite this, many of the crimson-eyed warriors continued to join their side. The once-pure forest had long since transformed into something alive and these warriors were part of that transformation.
As the miasma thickened, Shayleaf reached out, forming a magical barrier of purifying elven essence around Christy, shielding her from the effects of the toxic mist. Though Christy's body was strong and her cultivation high, she lacked the fanged elf bloodline's passive resistance to the corruption in this place.
Several hours passed. Morning had only barely begun, but the atmosphere remained oppressively dim.
Shayleaf's body suddenly shuddered, a deep discomfort seizing her limbs.
"Ahh! Ugh… Sister Chrissy, Brother Elly… I don't think I can keep going much longer…" she gasped, her voice trembling.
Christy and Elton immediately rushed to her side, supporting her as she nearly collapsed.
"Stay strong, Shay," Elton said, eyes scanning the murky forest. "We've got to be close. I can feel it…"
"I see something over there!" Christy pointed toward the distance, her Aka Boshi no Tengan eyes glowing with magical detection. "It's hard to be sure, but…"
"Hm?" Shayleaf focused, narrowing her eyes and reaching out with her spiritual sense. Then, her eyes flew open.
Without warning, she bolted forward at blinding speed.
"Wait! Shay, hold up!" Elton shouted in alarm, taking off after her. Christy followed suit without hesitation.
Behind them, the crimson cultivators also gave chase, instinctively reacting to an unseen call.
After a while, Elton and Christy caught up with Shayleaf, who stood silently before a massive, bloody tree that towered ominously above the rest. Its bark seemed to pulse with life, veins of deep crimson glowing faintly beneath the surface. The air here was thick—not only with the choking miasma but with the residual echoes of suffering. All around them, the ground was littered with piles of corpses, their drained, contorted forms sprawled like discarded offerings.
Even for this corrupted forest, this place was especially grim.
Christy involuntarily took a step back, clutching her chest as her Aka Boshi no Tengan eyes scanned the area, trying to process the overwhelming presence of blood and magic. The spiritual turbulence in the air made her vision tremble with chaotic energy.
"This place… It's filled with nightmarish energies," she whispered. "The miasma here is thick with blood and death. But it's not just that. There's a flow of energy… being drawn into that tree and even the surrounding trees."
Then both she and Elton came to the same realization at once.
"This place is—!!"
Shayleaf said nothing, her eyes focused sharply ahead, face pale but steady.
Elton slowly stepped forward, his gaze falling on the twisted figure partially fused into the center of the tree's bark. A figure he recognized the moment he laid eyes on it.
"Norg, That Gold Lord demon from back then…" he said softly, the weight of memory heavy in his voice. "So youre still here."
The once-mighty hobgoblin demon's body was contorted grotesquely, merged into the roots and bark of the tree. His skin was a cracked, dying gray, and his eyes were hollow—but they slowly lifted as he saw Elton.
Elton's expression didn't carry surprise, only a solemn realization. "I remember this place… This is where we last crossed paths before your defeat to Lady Aeloria."
Norg's lips trembled. His eyes twitched, barely focusing on the familiar voice. After a long, agonizing pause, he managed to croak out a whisper, as if each word threatened to shatter what remained of his soul.
"It's… It's… you… Blue… Heavens… K-Kill… me… please…"
His words hung in the air, not with malice, but pleading. A desperate wish to end his torment—rooted, drained, and bound in this living nightmare for what must have felt like an eternity.
The tree pulsed once more, a faint groan of creaking wood echoing around them as if in acknowledgment.