Chapter 537: The Princess and The Prince

The creatures infected by Disease Magic in the Verdant Forest attacked Oliver the moment they found an opening, using their size, weight, and numbers to overwhelm him.

It was like a massive bull ramming into a person.

The frail Oliver was knocked down by the impact, and the creatures, covered in pus, sores, and blisters, swarmed over him like a pack of wolves.

This was pure and primal violence.

The sound of hard teeth gnashing on stones quietly echoed through the forest.

The group including the Millieu, the dark wizards, the mercenaries, and the treasure hunters who joined halfway stared silently at the scene.

As those who made a living through violence, they instinctively understood.

They realized Oliver was the greatest strength here.

To survive in this irrational forest, they needed him whether they liked it or not.

But Oliver was being overwhelmed by the creatures’ attacks.

“….”

Although they should have helped him to ensure their survival, they were unable to move.

Were they scared? No. It was actually the opposite.

Despite Oliver being under attack, they felt no anxiety whatsoever.

Visually, it looked like Oliver was in danger, yet they felt no anxiety.

Instead, a different kind of unease spread.

The overwhelming power and presence. The undeniable dominance.

Those who came from outside Gallos were confused by this unfamiliar sensation, but those who had operated inside Gallos found it familiar.

Those who had worked under the Flesh Cook, or the many bosses of the Millieu who had competed with him.

“Lucian. This… it’s…,” Pierre, the oldest of the Millieu bosses, asked.

The faint sensation he felt when Oliver intervened while he was about to cut off Ewan’s flesh, now became vividly clear this moment.

It was the Flesh Cook’s presence.

Lucian couldn’t say a word, as he was too absorbed in the sight before him.

With the Flesh Cook gone and the current chaos, someone like the Flesh Cook, no, even greater, had appeared.

“Shadow. Devour them. All of them,” Oliver muttered under his breath.

The surroundings were so quiet that everyone could hear, and thanks to that, they saw the shadow that spread out like ink on the ground, generating numerous teeth.

Crunch!

The neatly aligned teeth began to devour the diseased creatures alive.

“Screeech!”

“Grrrk! Grrr!”

“Gaaaaaaaah!”

The massive, menacing creatures screamed in bizarre tones as they disappeared between the teeth, and the people watching felt as if they were witnessing insects being devoured. The scene filled them with discomfort, disgust, and a bone-chilling sense of repulsion.

It was the type of fundamental fear that can’t be solved by mere bRavely or audacity.

But that wasn’t all.

Anyone with even minimal knowledge of black magic would realize that the fact the shadow was fine after devouring creatures infected with Disease-Weakness Death Magic was unusual.

Creatures infected with Disease-Weakness Death Magic like these shouldn’t survive after being devoured.

For a human, it would be like eating meat infected with disease and parasites and staying healthy.

The only explanation was that the shadow had an inherent resistance to the disease itself, which wasn’t something achievable by magic—it was an innate nature.

Only one being had ever been capable of such a feat.

The Flesh Cook, who mastered countless diseases and had resistance to them all.

Just as Oliver’s shadow was about to devour the surrounding creatures completely, some others in the distance turned and rushed to attack the shadow.

A massive skeletal giant, over 5 meters tall, let out a gloomy roar and tried to crush Oliver’s shadow with its enormous hand.

Oliver’s shadow, with its unique fluidity, attempted to grab the skeletal giant in return, but other creatures swarmed in like ants to attack the shadow.

Headless scarecrows stabbed with scythes and hoes.

Hollow armors slashed with spears and swords.

Blindfolded executioners swung massive axes, and

Dwarves with large noses tried to stab the shadow with stakes to control it.

In addition to that, a hunchback with a big sack of coins and twisted childlike monsters joined in the attack by biting the shadow.

It was like witnessing a scene straight out of hell.

Countless monsters fighting a massive shadow creature.

Oliver’s shadow devoured the surrounding creatures greedily, yet more swarmed in to wound it.

This was proof that the power of the Verdant Forest was not inferior to the Flesh Cook.

After all, the number of people that made up this Verdant Forest seemed to be at least in the hundreds of thousands.

In such a seemingly endless, hellish scene, Oliver, who was cloaked in the shadow, slowly stood up.

After being knocked down, the shadow had protected his body,

With the shadow’s protection, Oliver stood up, tilted his head to create a cracking sound, then took a deep breath and exhaled as if fatigued.

“Hooo… Haa-”

As he sighed, Oliver raised the Blood-Stained Dagger in his left hand up to his shoulder height.

Ssshhh…

A simple and light movement.

However, those in the Millieu and the remnants of the Flesh Cook immediately thought of the Flesh Cook. Or something even worse, feeling a chill run down their spines.

The only word that came to mind was death.

As Oliver pulled his arm back slightly with the dagger, his muscles tightened, pulling in the air around his back.

Despite the slow motion, everyone, both creatures and people, stared blankly, like rats caught in front of a snake.

At that moment, someone shouted.

“Get down!”

Swish—

At the same time as the shout, Oliver swung the drawn-back arm forward, slicing through the air.

The cold slash sound quietly spread out into the air like a small ripple,

Everything within the range of sight around Oliver, including the creatures, trees, and rocks, were cleanly sliced and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

That was all from a single slash in the air by Oliver.

Amid the situation where no one could understand what had happened, only the Millieu who had fought against the Flesh Cook and the remnants who had served him understood.

It was the Decapitating Strike that sliced off the heads of all those who resisted.

The only ones who survived were those who knelt under the overwhelming fear of death, giving up the fight.

Just like the people here right now.

“….”

It felt as though the dead Flesh Cook had returned. No, it felt as though he had returned in an even worse form.

Lucian, as well as the Millieu, the associated dark wizards, mercenaries, and treasure hunters gazed up at Oliver while they lay on the ground.

Only the Holy Knight, clad in full steel armor, was able to stand on both legs, having defended against the slash.

“Devour,”

However, Oliver paid no heed to their reactions, and with a stern expression, he commanded the shadow to devour the dismembered creatures.

As soon as Oliver commanded, the shadow extended like a snake, devouring the creatures that were trying to recover.

It didn’t just devour the creatures but also the severed trees and even the ground.

It wasn’t strange.

After all, this Verdant Forest was created based on Creation-Magic. Though reinforced by barrier magic and composed of high-level rituals, at its core, it was still just a creature.

Oliver’s shadow extended in all directions like a starved man, devouring everything in its path.

And Oliver, who was the source of the shadow devouring everything, remained standing still at the spot where he swung the dagger, surveying the surroundings until he spotted something.

He extracted his emotions and threw them toward a certain direction.

The mist-form of emotions spread out thinly and collided with the seemingly empty space, creating a ripple.

As the ripple spread, the space began to warp, and soon after, an old woman with wings like a fairy appeared in mid-air.

“Shadow.”

As soon as the old woman appeared in mid-air, Oliver instructed the shadow, and the shadow, leading with its neat teeth, lunged at her.

The shadow, having grown both in size and ferocity after devouring countless creatures, charged forward.

The old woman with wings on her back, seemingly prepared, swung the staff in her hand and cast black magic.

She was clearly a creature, but not an ordinary one.

She likely used extraordinary materials similar to Pal’s shadow.

When she swung her staff, emotions poured out from her body, turning into gleaming light that struck the shadow.

‘Manipulation Death Magic,’

Oliver recognized the old woman’s specialization at a glance.

Molding darkness to move, hiding her body in the void, and using mental manipulation magic against Oliver’s creature made it pretty obvious.

The light the old woman shot made Oliver’s shadow hesitate for about a second.

She must have been a remarkably skilled dark wizard before becoming a creature.

Mental manipulation magic varies by individual, but without a medium or specific conditions, it usually couldn’t take effect.

But even then, it only delayed the shadow by one second.

One second was hardly enough to stop the shadow’s attack. However, instead of panicking, the old woman manipulated the Verdant Forest itself to push the shadow back.

The ground itself surged like a wave, sending the shadow flying backward.

At the same time, the old woman tried to activate another ritual to escape.

The evidence was the black magic circle that emerged beneath her on the ground, which twisted space around it.

She intended to escape using a warped ritual utilizing the Verdant Forest as the medium.

But in that split second, just as the ritual was activated, the ground that had begun to warp stopped and began to revert.

Oliver had reversed and disrupted the old woman’s ritual.

“Ah…,”

The old woman gasped in shock, looking at Oliver. She was astonished that Oliver had interfered with her ritual inside the Verdant Forest using his influence.

It was understandable; even if one could comprehend a ritual, applying that ritual to a creature like the Verdant Forest was an entirely different matter.

Creatures were artificial lifeforms. Without being their master, exerting control over them was extremely difficult.

In reflex, the old woman quickly looked around for the reason, soon finding Oliver’s shadow in the shape of an enormous needle driven deep into the ground of the Verdant Forest.

The shadow had devoured the Verdant Forest creatures and absorbed their properties, burrowing into the ground and exerting control.

The old woman, who had thought she was in control, now realized the ground she considered hers had become someone else’s.

Filled with confusion and fear, just like most people would be, she looked at Oliver, and at that moment, their eyes met.

The old woman instinctively opened her mouth.

“W-wait—”

-[Targeting]

Oliver extended his left hand and chanted.

A dartboard formed between Oliver’s hand and the old woman’s neck, and Oliver increased the gravitational force, pulling her neck into his grasp.

“Guhk…!”

Locked in his grip, the old woman barely offered any resistance due to the overwhelming speed and force.

Although her black magic skills were formidable, combat wasn’t her specialty.

All she could do while being squeezed was struggle and groan.

Despite feeling like she was on the brink of death, she desperately tried to say something.

Due to her throat being tightly held, her words were impossible to understand, but Oliver knew what she was trying to say.

He could read her desperate emotions instead of her voice.

“That thing earlier, was that you?”

Oliver asked, thinking of Colin made from darkness, and the old woman with a flicker of emotion, confirmed it while also shining with injustice, claiming she didn’t do it of her own will.

Oliver asked again.

“Who ordered you? The Princess?”

Recalling who ruled this forest, Oliver guessed, and his guess was dead-on.

The old woman desperately shone with emotion, confirming that it was indeed the Princess’s orders, not her will.

Her sense of self-preservation was stronger than that of normal creatures, likely due to the potent nature of her materials, but Oliver didn’t care.

He wasn’t interested in creatures, and he had already gotten all the answers he wanted.

“Ugh…!”

Sensing Oliver’s thoughts, the old woman screamed desperately, pleading for a chance and saying she was only following orders.

She claimed she had no malicious intent.

But as mentioned earlier, that wasn’t important to Oliver.

Snap!

With his business concluded, Oliver simply tightened his grip and snapped the old woman’s neck without a trace of mercy or hesitation.

His cold, indifferent attitude made it clear that he didn’t allow for any leniency or defense.

Strangely enough, this demeanor seemed to suit Oliver perfectly.

Arrogant, one-sided, and ruthless.

Oliver tossed the old woman on the ground like discarding a piece of trash, and the shadow devoured her body in one bite.

Everyone silently watched the scene unfold.

At this moment, only one person could break the silence.

That person opened their mouth.

“I’ll be going to meet the Princess briefly.”

Ignoring any responses, Oliver said that and walked into the forest. No one dared to stop him.

***

A few minutes after Oliver left for the center of the forest, people began to rise slowly.

All of them looked dazed, unable to process the situation, staying silent.

It was no surprise, as they had just experienced something that made them feel as though the Flesh Cook, who had been killed by the Archive, had reappeared.

At first, they thought it was an illusion, but it wasn’t.

It wasn’t an illusion, as it was too vivid, and far too many people had the same thought.

They couldn’t comprehend it.

Even if Oliver’s reputation was well known in Randa, it made no sense that a young man just barely over twenty could wield a presence greater than an old monster who’d lived for hundreds of years.

Moreover, the beheading strike at the end was something nobody could easily replicate.

It was the Flesh Cook’s symbol, used to behead those who resisted and subjugate those who feared.

It was something that couldn’t easily be mimicked.

Many bosses of the Millieu looked at Lucian, silently asking what was going on.

At the same time, the remnants of the Flesh Cook, who had joined them after being chased by the Verdant Forest, also exchanged silent glances, wondering what had just happened.

Of course, no one gave a clear answer.

Instead, the questions piled up. For instance, was it really the Archive that defeated the Flesh Cook?

After witnessing the scene before them, doubts filled their minds.

When they thought about it, who had actually seen the Archive defeat the Flesh Cook?

But since it wasn’t the kind of thing they could easily speak out loud, everyone remained silent, and then, a voice echoed, unclear whether it was from a woman, a man, a child, or an old person.

“It reminds me of the Flesh Cook.”

The source of the voice was none other than the Holy Knight, clad head to toe in steel armor.

With just one sentence, he had brought to the surface the questions everyone had silently felt.

Questions about the resemblance between Oliver and the Flesh Cook, and about who had actually defeated the Flesh Cook.

The fact that he, who usually stayed silent, spoke, added weight to his words, and everyone fixed their attention on him, curious about what he would say next.

However, the Holy Knight fell silent again, then looked around as if sensing something, and pointed at a particular spot.

All eyes turned in the direction he pointed. Moments later, a bubbling pile of corpses rose up from beneath the ruined Verdant Forest, forming into a small door.

Black magic? No, it was something similar but different. A ritual of human sacrifice, costing human lives.

While everyone took a defensive stance with brightened vigilance, a doll-like man emerged through the corpse-made door.

He wore a thistle crown on his head and held a sharp sword made of flesh in one hand.

It was none other than the prince candidate of the Swan Sect, who had attacked many, including the remnants of the Flesh Cook and Claude.

He had now appeared here using a human sacrifice ritual.