Chapter 30: Deep in the Forest (2)

Booker looked as if he’d just been punched in the face. Jelena’s expression shifted into one of shock. Mizan stirred faintly in the corner. Only Felice, who had witnessed the moment with her own eyes, remained unchanged.

“At the time… Aldrich’s initial strike blasted me away. Before I could recover, I took a direct hit from one of its tentacles. My ribs were broken. My arm and leg too. Internal organs damaged. Massive blood loss. I was on the brink of death.”

I swallowed hard. It felt like those shards of glass I’d inhaled earlier had multiplied inside my lungs—every breath searing, a sharp, pulsing agony that refused to subside.

“It was Rena. She just happened to be nearby, and she genuinely wanted to help; she didn’t fully grasp the danger. I… Anyway, she rushed over and used a powerful healing spell on me. That’s the only reason I was able to…”

My voice caught. I didn’t know how to continue. I didn’t know how to speak past the pain crushing my chest from within.

Booker stumbled back a few steps, murmuring like he was half-asleep.

“She did that? To save… you?”

“…Yes.”

“And then… because of that? Aldrich targeted her… and…”

“…Yes.”

“Fuck you!!!”

With a roar, he lunged at me, his fist swinging hard for my face. In that instant, I hesitated—should I dodge? Should I take the hit? Did I deserve to bear the weight of his anger?

“Then I’m just as guilty!”

“—!?”

A hand yanked Booker back by the collar.

It was Felice.

She stared at him coldly.

Her normally emotionless voice carried a rare tremor of feeling.

“I was the one drawing Aldrich’s attention at the time. If I had done a better job, if I had fully kept its focus, it wouldn’t have attacked Rena. If someone has to be blamed for her death, then I’m part of it too.”

“But… I mean—”

“And in the end, it was Yuhong who killed Aldrich. If Rena hadn’t prioritized healing him first, none of us would have made it back alive.”

“Even so…”

“…” Cold stare. 

“…Fine. Sorry.”

Under Felice’s unflinching gaze, Booker finally calmed down. He withdrew his fist, muttered a stiff apology, and slumped back into his chair, burying his face in his knees.

It seemed we were all beginning to accept the reality.

Booker had forced himself to calm down. Jelena was gradually coming to terms with what had happened. Mizan had fallen into a deep silence. Only Felice remained steady from start to finish.

And me?

“…”

I guess I was the only one who hadn’t calmed down.

Even now, the storm inside me raged, unrelenting.

Burning fury.

Icy grief.

Bottomless remorse.

Bitter, gnawing regret.

All of it surged through me; these emotions hadn’t faded with time, they’d only grown more intense. I had to force my face into stillness—no, I had to force my entire body to remain taut. Because if I didn’t, I had a feeling I’d be completely overtaken by the chaos boiling inside me.

Once again, I’d watched a vibrant, young life vanish before my eyes.

How many more times would I have to witness that?

No.

I didn’t want to see it again.

I couldn’t accept being the one who needed saving anymore. If only to prevent another tragedy like Rena’s, I had to—

I had to do everything in my power to protect every life within reach.

It was the only way I could ever begin to atone for those who were lost.

But before I could do that—

I exchanged a glance with the chieftain. He gave me a small nod.

Alright then.

It was time to break the silence.

I knew that bringing this up now would only make things worse, but this was reality. It had to be said.

“Um… can I ask something?”

To my surprise, it was Jelena who broke the silence.

She tugged down her collar, revealing her collarbone.

There, where her pale skin met her neck, was a patch of rot—a festering blemish that starkly contrasted with her otherwise flawless complexion.

“What is this supposed to be?”

***

We were making our way through the shadowy forest. Mizan, who could no longer walk, had stayed behind. Our only light source came from the small orb of illumination floating at the tip of the chieftain’s staff—a simple miracle of radiance. The path was rough, tangled with brambles and vines, forcing us to move slowly. But by the glow of the light, we could see it clearly: the deeper we went into the forest, the more vibrant and lush the foliage became.

Booker and Jelena kept taking deep breaths. The faint stench of decay that usually lingered in the air was gone. For the first time, the damp air was crisp and fresh—each breath felt like it was cleansing their lungs.

Of course, despite enjoying the clean air, neither of them looked pleased.

After Jelena asked that question, both Booker and Felice had checked their bodies and discovered it too. Each of us bore signs of rot, varying in severity. It was the same kind of necrosis we’d seen on the rotted-face people. Felice’s case was milder—only the tips of her fingers were affected, probably thanks to her obsessively clean habits. But the discovery had shaken all of us. We’d seen the rotted-face people’s condition. No one wanted to end up like them.

And yet, judging from what we saw, we were slowly turning into them.

That was why we had come to the forest’s heart, seeking an explanation.

“That started about ten years ago.”

As we neared our destination, the chieftain finally spoke.

“A spout of mist erupted in this once peaceful town. The residents had no choice but to flee into the forest. I was traveling the land as a pilgrim when the news reached me, but by the time I returned, it was too late. The mist had already spread, and the best window for evacuation had passed. Eventually, a wall of fog surrounded this entire region, cutting us off from the world.

“What came after, was hell. The fog fiends. The unlivable conditions. But those weren’t the worst of it.”

“What was?” Jelena asked.

“The poison.”

“Poison?”

“You all noticed, didn’t you? The river flowing through town is lethally toxic.”

We nodded immediately.

“It’s not just the river. The soil is tainted. Every plant in town withered and died. The farmland turned barren. At the epicenter of the mist, something monstrous lurks; something that constantly releases toxins strong enough to kill. Only fog fiends can survive in such an environment.”

“But you’re all still alive. Even if…”

“Yes. We’re alive. And it’s all thanks to this.”

We had arrived.

A ring of towering trees enclosed a space, shielding what lay within from the outside world.

We passed through the gaps between the trunks, and what appeared before us was a weathered stone altar.

It was simple, with no ornate decoration—only a few unintelligible carvings etched across its surface.

At the center of the altar sat a crystal.

A crystal that radiated a pure white light.

It was shaped like a primitive arrowhead or a flint dagger—tapered to a sharp point, with a thick base about as wide as a human wrist, and a blade-like end gleaming with a deadly edge. It looked white at first glance, but upon closer inspection, it was completely transparent. The white glow wasn’t the color of the stone—it was something blooming inside it, like water catching the light inside a glass.

The lingering pain and discomfort in my body eased just by being near it. The air here was impossibly clean, without even the faintest unpleasant odor. Around the altar, wild grasses grew thick and lush, and tiny white flowers bloomed in every direction, forming a miniature garden. It was beautiful.

“If not for this, we wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

The chieftain’s expression turned reverent as he reached forward and gently tapped the crystal with his staff. Click—the tip of the staff, carved in the shape of a tree, unfolded like a set of branching fingers. The limbs extended to grasp the crystal like a great wooden hand. The two objects joined as one, and the chieftain slowly, carefully lifted it from the altar.

“This is called the Lustrous Core. It’s the purifying power stored within this crystal that has shielded us from the poison.”

“So this is… uh… like the ‘holy stone’ in every RPG ever?” Jelena asked hesitantly.

“Not quite. The Lustrous Core itself doesn’t produce purification. What makes it special is that it has the rare property of absorbing and storing external energies. What you see here is not a stone that generates light, but one that contains it.”

“The white light is the purification? Then where did it come from?”

“Years ago, as a wandering pilgrim, I joined a group of scholars from the Grand Archive of Castwal to explore Aisaroya—the Land of Miracles. In the underground chambers of the Great Temple, I discovered this: an exceptionally rare piece of Lustrous Core, already filled with high-purity purification energy. A find like this is almost unheard of.”

“And then you brought it here?”

“The mist disaster broke out around the same time. I didn’t rejoin the other scholars; I came straight back to my hometown, already overrun with grey fog. I confess, in a sense, I stole this sacred treasure. But because of that, we survived.”

The chieftain paused, then continued.

“Once it was removed from the temple, the crystal began to radiate its purifying power. I placed it here, in the forest, and from then on, it became our guardian deity. This entire forest lies under the reach of its power. That’s why the plants here can grow. That’s why we have clean water to drink and enough crops to get by. It’s the only reason we’ve been able to endure.”

However, the chieftain’s tone shifted.

“But complete detoxification is impossible. Though its reach is vast, trace amounts of poison still remain in the soil, in the water, in the plants. Over time, those traces accumulate. And it’s that long-term exposure that has turned us into what you now call the rotted-face people.”

“Wha—”

“And if you stay here too long, the same will happen to you.”