Chapter 161: Chapter 161: Aura of the Wailing Forest

The black van sped away, leaving the ruins of the bandit camp far behind. Its heading was fixed to the west—toward the Wailing Forest. Toward Castle Zero. Toward home.

In the back seat, Loy’s eyes began to flutter open. His body was still frail, his hands swollen, but he managed to sit upright against the upholstery. Beside him, Riri remained fast asleep, her breathing shallow and steady—the exhaustion of days without rest finally claiming her.

“Where… are we going?” Loy whispered. His voice was still raspy, but clearer than before. He squinted, his eyes struggling to adjust to the dim interior of the van.

Dayat stole a glance through the rearview mirror. Loy’s face was ghastly pale, his eyes sunken, but there was something new there—awareness, curiosity, and a flicker of hope that hadn’t quite dared to ignite.

“To a safe place,” Dayat answered softly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Kancil’s home.”

Loy blinked. His bruised fingers gripped the hem of his shirt. “Kancil… Is he really waiting?”

“He is,” Dayat nodded. “He’s been waiting for a long time. Ever since you were separated.”

Loy didn’t respond. He looked down at his hands, marked by the angry red welts of the ropes. Beside him, Riri shifted in her sleep, leaning closer to him—perhaps seeking warmth or simply a sense of security. Loy let her.

“Does Kancil… still remember us?” Loy whispered again, his voice barely audible.

Dayat met his eyes through the mirror. “He never forgot.”

Loy didn’t cry. His tears had been spent long ago when Tomas died, when Sany passed away by his side. But his shoulders trembled. He bit his lip, suppressing an emotion he couldn’t quite name.

In the passenger seat, Dola occasionally glanced back. Her blue eyes glowed with a faint luminescence as she scanned the road they had traversed. No one was following. The pursuers had been left in the dust; the van’s speed far exceeded any horse or carriage in the kingdom.

“Still clear,” Dola reported. “No sign of them.”

Dayat nodded. “We need to move fast. The sooner we enter the forest, the better.”

Hours bled into one another. Dayat didn’t know how long he had been driving—three hours, maybe four. All he knew was that the landscape was changing.

The ordinary forest, once bathed in moonlight, grew darker and denser. The tree trunks, previously a dull greyish-brown, were now pitch black. Their thick foliage choked the sky, allowing only sporadic slivers of moonlight to pierce through. A thin mist began to settle between the trees, descending like a heavy shroud.

The atmosphere shifted. It was cold. Silent. As if thousands of eyes were watching from behind those blackened trunks.

Loy shivered. He huddled closer to the sleeping Riri. She didn’t stir, her rhythmic breathing suggesting a dream far kinder than the dark hut they had escaped.

Dayat felt it too. Something was fundamentally different about this forest. The air felt heavy, viscous—as if an invisible pressure was weighing down from all sides. But he couldn’t stop. He had to push forward.

“Is this the Wailing Forest?” he asked.

Dola nodded. “Yes. We’ve entered.”

Dayat didn’t ask further. He pressed the accelerator, driving the van deeper into the labyrinth of twisted, black trees.

As the fog thickened, Loy could no longer see anything through the window. Only void and mist, punctuated by the blur of tree trunks passing too fast to track. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing.

Suddenly, Dola’s eyes widened.

She wasn’t looking back at the pursuers. She was looking forward—into the deepening gloom, toward a mist that moved with an unnatural intent.

Dayat saw it from the corner of his eye. Dola’s face, usually a mask of indifference, was taut. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She was afraid. Dayat had never seen Dola this unsettled.

“What is it?” Dayat asked, his voice low.

Dola didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the fog, on something only she could perceive.

“Dola.”

“Nothing,” she finally replied, though her voice carried a slight tremor. “Just keep driving.”

Dayat studied her for a moment. He knew something was wrong. He knew she saw something. But he also knew she had a reason for her silence. He didn’t press her; he only drove faster.

Loy felt it too. His body broke into a cold sweat for no reason, the hair on his neck standing on end. He pressed his face against the glass, trying to see out, but there was only the fog and the blackened trees.

At the bandit camp, hours earlier.

The joint task force arrived at the devastated camp. Corpses littered the ground; some were still pooling blood, others were already cold. Campfires still flickered in places, but nothing lived.

Captain Feldris dismounted his horse. He walked into the center of the camp, surveying the carnage. The signs of battle were fresh—bullet holes in the wood, scorched earth from magic, and blood trails where bodies had been dragged.

“Report,” he commanded.

A scout ran up, breathless. “Captain, there are tracks leading west. Perhaps one or two hours old.”

“West?” Feldris frowned. He looked toward the west, where the trees began to change color in the distance.

“Yes, Captain.”

Feldris didn’t answer. He turned to Inquisitor Morvain, who stood beside him, cold and expressionless. Morvain merely nodded. No discussion was needed. They had agreed from the start: the Maiden’s messengers had to be captured.

“Pursue them,” Feldris ordered.

The force moved out. Hundreds of men left the camp, heading toward the Wailing Forest.

They reached the edge of the forest just as the sun began to rise. The eastern sky turned a bruised red, the first rays touching the treetops. But before them, the forest remained shrouded in darkness. Thick fog hung between the black trees, moving like a living, breathing entity.

Feldris stopped at the boundary. Here, the ground was dry and the grass was green. But just a few steps ahead, the earth turned black, the trees loomed with twisted branches, and the mist swirled unnaturally.

“Enter,” he commanded.

The soldiers took their first steps into the forest. One, two, three.

On the fourth step, everything changed.

A mage in the front line suddenly collapsed to his knees. His face went pale, his breath hitched, and he clutched his head as if trying to hold back something about to explode inside his skull. “Captain… this… my mana…”

“What’s happening?” Feldris hurried forward.

But before he could reach him, two more mages fell. They gripped their heads, retching on the ground, their bodies convulsing. The knights felt it too—chills running down their spines, heavy breathing, hearts racing without cause, as if an invisible hand were squeezing their chests.

“Captain!” an officer cried out in panic. “We have to get out! Now!”

Feldris looked around. His soldiers were staggering; some had fallen and couldn’t get back up. Even Inquisitor Morvain looked strained—his cold face shifted, his eyes narrowed, and he gripped his staff tighter.

“Retreat!” Feldris roared. “All of you, retreat! Get out of the forest!”

The force scrambled back. Those who could still walk ran; those who had fallen were dragged by their comrades. They huddled at the edge of the forest, outside the boundary of the black trees, gasping for air. Some were still shaking; others were still vomiting.

Feldris stood at the line. He stared into the dark woods.

“Captain, what was that?” an officer asked, his voice trembling.

Feldris didn’t answer. He didn’t know.

“We camp here,” he finally said. “Send a messenger to the capital. Report what has happened.”

“And the Maiden’s messengers?”

Feldris looked west. Their tracks were gone.

“Let them go in first. We wait here.”

Deep within the forest, the van continued its journey.

Dola had been silent for some time. Her eyes remained vigilant, focused on the swirling mist, on something only she could fully sense. Dayat didn’t ask; he focused on driving, occasionally glancing at her.

In the back, Loy had fallen back into an exhausted sleep. Riri was still out beside him, their heads almost touching, their breathing synchronized. They didn’t feel what was happening outside.

But Dola felt it.

The aura was still there. The miasma that had repelled the pursuers—the pressure that made anyone’s skin crawl—didn’t affect her. She could resist it. But she knew what it meant.

Someone else was in this forest.

Someone who had once been her equal.

Someone who—with the seals still limiting her power—she could not currently defeat.

But she didn’t tell Dayat. Not yet.

Suddenly, a monster leaped from the brush. It resembled a wolf but was massive, with glowing red eyes and shimmering black fur. It lunged at the van, claws outstretched, maw full of fangs.

Dayat yanked the steering wheel. The van swerved, the rear tires skidding on the damp earth. The monster clung to the side, its claws gouging deep tracks into the window glass, nearly piercing through.

“Stay down!” Dayat shouted to Loy and Riri.

Loy bolted awake, his eyes wide with terror. Riri woke up as well, her body trembling.

Dola raised her hand. Blue light ignited at her fingertips—bright, searing, and lethal. The monster jerked, its body freezing in mid-air before being blasted toward a nearby tree with a sickening crack. The trunk split, and the monster fell, motionless.

But it didn’t stop there. From behind the fog, more red eyes emerged. Dozens. Hundreds. They poured out from between the trees, from behind the bushes, from the deepest shadows. They were larger, with claws that could rend steel and fangs that could crush bone.

Dola turned to Dayat. “I’ll handle this. Keep driving.”

“Keep driving,” she repeated, her blue eyes flared with an intensity greater than ever before.

Dayat didn’t respond. His hands gripped the wheel tighter, but his foot stayed heavy on the gas. He trusted her.

Inside the van, the air suddenly shifted.

Blue light began to flood the cabin, radiating from Dola’s body, crawling over the seats, the windows, and the entire frame of the vehicle.

Outside, the monsters closed in. Dozens of glowing red eyes raced through the darkness, chasing the van as it sped along the narrow forest path.

Dola raised a single hand. The blue light passed through the glass without breaking it. Then—the first wave was unleashed.

An explosion of blue energy swept backward like a hurricane. The monsters in the front line were instantly repelled, their bodies disintegrating before they could even get close.

The others roared, accelerating their pace.

Dola raised both hands this time.

“Do not slow down,” she said coldly.

The second wave exploded with even greater force.

Energy radiated from within the van, piercing in every direction, striking trees, ground, and the creatures pursuing them. Those who tried to dodge were still swept away—burned, erased, vanished without a trace.

Within seconds, the road behind them was empty.

Only the swirling mist and the shadows of the black trees remained.

Inside the van, the blue light slowly faded. Dola lowered her hands, her breathing slightly labored. Her energy was drained. The seal of the six goddesses still restricted her, and that attack had consumed a significant amount of mana—even without her moving from her seat.

She leaned back for a moment, her eyes still glowing faintly.

Dayat glanced through the mirror. Nothing was following them anymore. He didn’t say a word, but his pressure on the gas pedal eased slightly.

The van continued deeper into the Wailing Forest.

In the back, Loy and Riri had watched the entire struggle. They were exhausted, but the tension in the air had been too real to ignore. The pressure had weighed on their chests, making every breath feel heavy.

Loy stared forward, his eyes wide. He had seen that blue light. He had seen Dola sitting calmly, as if all of this was nothing.

Riri gripped the edge of her shirt. For a moment, fear had gripped her. But slowly, that feeling transformed into something else—awe.

“She’s…” Riri whispered softly. “So strong…”

Loy didn’t answer. He simply swallowed hard and gave a small nod, his eyes still fixed ahead. There was no panic. No screaming.

Only silence… and the realization that they were being protected by someone far beyond their comprehension.

Dola opened her eyes again. She stared out the window. In the distance, behind the fog and the black trees—something was still moving.

She had felt it from the beginning. That aura. That miasma. It was still there. And this time… it was closer.

Dola said nothing.

It wasn’t time yet.

Dayat drove in silence. He didn’t know what waited ahead. But he had to keep moving. For Dola. For Kancil. For Loy and Riri.

For all of them.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep