Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 143: The Kalenta Great Forest (1)

A vast coniferous forest stretched endlessly, its snow-draped trees towering in every direction. Six men and women trudged forward, their steps steady. Overhead, the immense canopy of trees extended unbroken, revealing glimpses of the gray winter sky through gaps in the dense branches.

"We've been walking for almost half a day..." Karnak clicked his tongue mid-step. "And the scenery hasn't changed one bit."

"Well, there's a reason they call it the Great Forest," Serati replied nonchalantly, adjusting the bulky backpack on her shoulders.

It's not heavy, but its sheer size makes it awkward to carry.

Their journey cut through the Kalenta Great Forest, a place teeming with all manner of monsters. There were no inns or shelters to rely on, so camping was inevitable. Naturally, they needed to carry plenty of supplies: ropes, food, blankets, and other necessities. The problem was that the terrain made it impossible to bring horses along, so they had to carry everything themselves.

Traveling through the forest wasn't particularly difficult. Most of the branches hung far above a horse's height, so moving through the dense woods posed no obstacles. The real challenge was keeping the horses safe.

Horse meat was a delicacy beyond compare to the perpetually hungry monsters. With no other choice, the group carried their supplies on their own backs. But even after packing only the bare essentials, the baggage was still sizable. Serati glanced at Karnak with a wistful expression.

—When are you going to reach the ninth circle?

Karnak chuckled at her unspoken question and asked back.

—Why? Want me to store your backpack in the void space?

—It would get tainted with malice, wouldn't it?

—You’re a necromancer's vassal. A little malice shouldn't be a big deal for you.

—So you're saying it's still a small deal?

—Well, you're still alive, so it probably wouldn't be a problem.

Serati's expression stiffened at his casual tone.

—Still alive? What do you mean, still alive?!

—Relax. As long as I'm maintaining control, you won't turn undead.

—And if you stop maintaining control?

Karnak didn't say anything.

—Why aren't you answering me?

Watching their exchange, Lapicel had a thought. Ah, big sis and Lord Karnak are having another staring contest!

The small, ash-gray-haired girl was carrying a pack nearly as large as her own body. She tilted her head repeatedly.

Why do they do that without saying a word? Is this what grown-ups mean by catching each other’s eyes?

Noticing her puzzled expression, Milia suddenly asked, "Is your backpack heavy, Lapicel?"

"It's fine, sis."

From her tone, it didn't seem like an empty statement. Lapicel showed no signs of struggling.

"You're stronger than you look, aren't you? That's what makes you a knight-in-training."

“Lord Karnak's probably struggling though, right?”

Milia stifled a laugh. "We're carrying less than half of what you are. If we complained, we'd be shameless."

Unlike the rest of the group, who were burdened with hefty backpacks, Karnak and Milia carried only light packs. It was standard practice for mages and priests to minimize their loads. The last thing anyone needed in a crisis was to hear, Ah, I have enough mana and divine energy, but I'm too exhausted to fight!

Overhearing the conversation, Karnak hesitated, deep in thought. Come to think of it, Lapicel's carrying that much, too.

For some reason, seeing a child burdened with such a large pack pricked his conscience.

—To live like a decent person... does this mean I should offer to carry her stuff?

Serati chuckled softly.

—Well, at least you're getting a bit more tactful.

—Really?

—It’s better to say things like that, even if you don't mean it. Just don't actually carry anyone's luggage.

Varos joined in with a wry remark.

—If you overdo it and collapse from carrying too much, I'm the one who'll have to suffer for it.

He had lost count of how many times, in their past lives, he had ended up carrying both Karnak and his belongings after the necromancer exhausted himself fleeing from danger.

—I’d rather deal with the luggage when it’s able to walk.

—People don't expect much from mages anyway. Just treat Lapicel to something nice later.

Through a discreet magical telepathic link, the three exchanged meaningless banter. Watching this unfold, Lapicel's eyes sparkled.

Oh! Now all three of them are catching each other’s eyes!

She quickly fell into contemplation.

But can three people really catch each other’s eyes at the same time? Is it because they're adults?

It was the kind of innocent thought only a child who didn't understand the expression's true meaning could have. Meanwhile, Milia looked at Lapicel with a puzzled expression.

What on earth is she thinking to have that look on her face?

Leading the way ahead, Leven continued to guide them. "We'll need to head northeast for a while longer."

The journey was tedious and long. Though the forest floor was generally flat, the occasional rises and dips were blanketed with snow, and the cold winds that swept through added to the difficulty. On such frigid days, even wild animals avoided venturing out.

But monsters were different. For them, winter wasn't a struggle for survival. It was hunting season, a time to attack humans. As they walked in silence, Varos suddenly fixed his gaze on the far side of the forest.

"Something's showing up, just as expected."

Karnak nodded, unsurprised. "Of course. It's winter."

Focusing her senses, Serati asked, "Seven... no, eight of them?"

Lapicel chimed in cautiously. "I think there are ten. Two of them are further behind."

Serati gave her an approving glance. "You've got great instincts, Lapicel.”

"Hehe."

The group began preparing for battle with calm efficiency, except for Leven, who looked around in confusion.

"What? What's happening? Is something going on?"

Milia gripped her staff and said with a resigned expression, "Just go with it. They're always like this."

***

"Awooo!"

With a deafening howl, massive shadows emerged from the forest. The creatures resembled centaurs at first glance, but their ferocity was far beyond that of any horse-human hybrid. Their lower bodies were those of wolves, while their upper torsos were humanoid but grotesquely muscular.

The startled Leven tightened his grip on his longsword. "Wulventros!"

The pack of wulventros charged toward them, encircling the group with alarming speed. Each stood two meters tall at the shoulder, and despite their massive size, they moved with the agility of true wolves.

"Kaaargh!"

One of the wulventros lunged at Leven, thrusting a spear straight toward his skull. Letting out a sharp cry, Leven met the attack head-on, slashing upward with his sword.

Clang!

The spear and blade collided, the force of the impact deflecting the attack. But the sheer weight difference between them made Leven feel as if his shoulders were about to collapse under the pressure.

Groaning, he tightened his focus. Wulventros were monsters strong enough to overwhelm even three or four fully trained knights at once. Underestimating them was a death sentence.

Still, that didn't mean there was any reason to be afraid. Even if he had lived in the shadow of his brother, Leven was still the son of a great knight from a great family.

Wielding his sword once more, he charged at the wulventros. The elegant swordsmanship he had honed through years of training unraveled at the tip of his blade like a finely woven thread. His sword light danced, slicing through the cold winter air.

"Graaahh!"

The sharp blade cut through the neck of a wulventros, sending a spray of blood cascading through the air. The strike had hit a vital spot perfectly, causing massive blood loss. It was flawless swordsmanship, devoid of any excess or waste. After dispatching one of the monsters, Leven quickly surveyed the situation.

What about the others?

He didn't expect Karnak's group to run into trouble. After all, they had an advanced mage and aura users among them. But there was a small child in their midst, an innocent little girl.

Is Miss Lapicel safe?

He still couldn't understand why they had brought someone so young into a battlefield. As an adult, he couldn't help but worry. As he searched for Lapicel, he suddenly froze.

"Wha...?"

The ash-gray-haired girl was stomping on a wolf's head. He had no idea how she had done it, but somehow she had leapt more than twice her own height, seized the high ground, and somersaulted mid-air, slashing horizontally with her sword.

Swoosh!

Scarlet blood spilled across the snow. Landing smoothly, Lapicel assumed a poised stance. Behind her, another wulventros lay collapsed in a similar state. Both creatures had deep cuts across their necks, their arteries severed cleanly. It was an identical injury to the one Leven had inflicted.

How can someone her age move like that?

Noticing Leven's astonished gaze, Lapicel turned to him, her face lighting up in a sheepish smile. She bowed politely.

"Thank you for your teaching."

What teaching?

As Leven stared in disbelief, a red-haired woman flashed past his line of sight. Like a gust of wind, she glided effortlessly between the wulventros.

With the whistle of her blade, crimson sword light left radiant trails in the air. For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to freeze, and then the massive creatures fell apart, their bodies split into pieces and their blood spilling across the ground.

"Graaaahh!"

At least with Lapicel's swordsmanship, Leven could tell what was happening. Serati's movements were on a completely different level.

She simply walked. Her steps didn't even look particularly fast—leisurely, almost lazy. Yet, in the blink of an eye, she was inside the wulventros' guard. She weaved through their ranks, slipping past their flanks and occupying their blind spots. With every swing of her blade, sword light scattered like petals, and each swing brought more blood and screams.

It was an overused phrase, but there was no better way to describe it—she was toying with them. Such a display was impossible without an overwhelming difference in skill.

After dispatching three wulventros, Serati nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. "It's true. Sometimes it's important to have experiences where you completely overpower weaker enemies."

Grinning from ear to ear, Varos responded cheerfully, "Exactly."

Oddly enough, his blade was pristine. There was not a single drop of blood staining it. It was natural, since it hadn’t even been drawn. He had simply grabbed the monsters' jaws and slammed them into the ground one after another.

That was all. How this alone caused the wulventros to spew blood from their eyes, noses, mouths, and ears and die instantly was beyond comprehension. It took less than a minute for all ten attacking wulventros to be annihilated. The combined combat prowess of Varos, Serati, and Lapicel was nothing short of overwhelming. Karnak and Milia hadn't even needed to step in.

"Now I understand what you meant about these people, Priest Milia," Leven said with a hollow laugh, his face drained of energy. "From now on, I'll just accept it and move on. Haha.”

But while Leven seemed resigned, Milia couldn't let it go so easily. She was used to seeing Varos and Serati fight, so their overwhelming strength didn't surprise her. But this was her first time witnessing Lapicel in combat.

Good heavens, is she really this strong?

***

At the same time, in the deepest chamber of the Maleficus dungeon, Archbishop Hugot, the leader of the Wellad branch of the Cult of the Black God, delivered his report with great reverence.

"Strauss has begun to move. Coincidentally, the Eustil King's Order has come here as well, creating an opportunity for us. Sometimes, unexpected coincidences can work in our favor."

A voice, rough as if scraping iron, echoed from the pitch-black darkness. "What is the strength of the Eustil King's Order?"

"They have a sixth circle high mage, a second-rank inquisitor, two red knights, and one squire. They would be formidable opponents if we encountered them outside.” Hugot shrugged as though it hardly mattered. "But here? They're not particularly challenging adversaries."

From within the darkness, a faint shadow began to take form.

“There’s no choice. I cannot leave this place."

A skeletal figure emerged, its humanlike form cloaked in black necromantic energy. Underneath its tattered robes, waves of cold air seeped out. Surrounding the room, a dense mist of dark magic loomed, suffocating and ominous. It was an archlich, the ultimate form of a corrupted mage and one of the most terrifying undead in existence.

"Prepare to welcome our guests," the archlich commanded, raising a hand composed of nothing but bone. "They are esteemed visitors, and we must not neglect to offer them the hospitality they deserve."

Hugot bowed deeply, his tone one of utmost deference. "Yes, Lord Demphis."