My Fusion System: Fusing Weak Soldiers with Direwolves at the Start-Chapter 41: Vi’s Secret

The Devil Forest or in more precise terms, the Devil Wilderness was the largest red zone on the continent, feared not just for its size, but for the nature of its inhabitants.

Even after decades of study, not a single Acranist could explain why life within its borders defied the natural order. Why did the trees grow to impossible heights, their trunks wide enough to house families, their roots twisting deep into the earth like ancient serpents? Why did the beasts here swell to monstrous proportions, far surpassing the strength and size of their kin found beyond the forest’s edge?

Countless expedition forces had entered with confidence and numbers, only to be swallowed whole, erased without even the courtesy of wreckage.

Eventually, the lords ceased sending men into its depths. Maps were redrawn, not with ambition, but with caution, and the wilderness was left to itself.

Some whispered that this was the birthplace of the barbarians, a land where the fallen Primarch’s blood had spilled during the old wars, soaking into the ground and changing everything it touched.

Whether through ancient magic or something fouler, the forest had become a haven for wild things, a paradise for the savage and a cursed realm for all who bore banners and laws. Whether such legends were myth or memory, Kaelor didn’t waste thought on it.

He had work to do.

Nearly seven hundred men now moved through the clearing, hacking at thick, knotted trunks with disciplined swings. Their voices were few, their labor heavy, and the sound of axes striking timber echoed through the unnatural silence of the forest.

Kaelor stood among them, his own axe in hand, the same weapon he’d taken from the bandits.

Each bandit had wielded two one-handed axes. Seventeen had been slain. That left him with thirty-two one-handers, battle-worn but still sharp. To this, he had added ten two-handed axes purchased from Grant. Altogether, the acquisition had cost him 350 gold coins, no small sum, but necessary.

The rest of the funds had gone to smaller necessities, bundles of prepared beast hide, thick and pliable, meant for the Leather Armourers to begin forging protective wear for his men. Every piece had a purpose. Every coin had been spent with a future in mind.

Kaelor watched the trees fall one by one, his gaze unshaken. Whatever cursed legacy the Devil Wilderness carried, it would not stand in his way.

When a tree finally groaned and crashed to the forest floor, the thud echoed through the canopy like a warning to the rest. A team of men, grimy with sweat, shirts clinging to their backs, hurried to lash thick ropes around the fallen trunk. With unified shouts and the squelch of boots on loamy ground, they began the laborious task of dragging it back to town. This routine, repeated with grim rhythm since dawn, was the price they paid for progress in a land the civilized world itself had seemingly cursed and abandoned.

By late noon, the forest thinned of men. Their laughter and chatter floated on the wind, a contrast to the grueling work, carried by the single, comforting knowledge: they would eat. And eat well.

The town square pulsed with activity. Long rows formed in front of steaming pots, the metallic clang of ladles against bowls merging with the sound of firewood crackling and the voices of over a hundred souls made hearty by hunger. The smell of seasoned beast meat and wild herbs filled the air, stirring the kind of hope only a full belly could offer.

At the town gate, Kaelor spotted Vi. She stood apart from the crowd, arms crossed, a dark coat draped over her shoulders like a mantle of solitude. Her serene gaze swept the town, her skin pale against the sun, strands of silver hair fluttering in the wind. Though her beauty remained striking, there was a stillness to her, as if some unseen burden lay just beneath the surface. A quiet sorrow, or perhaps fatigue born not of the body, but the soul.

Kaelor’s brows furrowed as he approached. "Is there a problem?" he asked, his voice low but direct.

Vi offered a soft chuckle that did little to mask her weariness. "Nothing I can’t handle."

"Mildred said you were training?" Kaelor pressed, eyeing her with concern. "It doesn’t look like it."

"I was practicing," she said, turning her face away slightly. "There was... an incident. But I handled it."

Across the square, amongst the bustle of women ladling meals into bowls, one of them glanced toward Vi, then leaned close to her friend, whispering cautiously. "Told you she was in there and not with His Lordship."

Her companion squinted toward the gate, suspicion knitting her brow. "Then the sounds you heard... they came from inside the town head’s house while she was in there?!" Her voice caught on the last word, a gasp escaping her lips as the implications bloomed in her mind.

The first woman sighed worriedly, her eyes narrowing as the hissing sound she heard that night echoed in her memories.

Could it have been a figment of her imagination? Or was there truly something off about that silver-haired guest who walked among them with appealing looks. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Kaelor lifted his hand gently, about to place it on Vi’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort or curiosity. But before contact could be made, she shifted away with a suddenness that surprised him, turned on her heel, and silently retreated back into the town.

Kaelor’s brows furrowed. He stood still, gaze lingering in the direction she’d gone. If he had seen correctly, then what flashed through Vi’s eyes the moment he reached for her... was fear.

It was unlike the Vi he’d come to know. Reserved, not at all. Guarded, certainly. But afraid? Never. Yet everyone bore hidden scars. Everyone had secrets buried deeper than they were willing to share.

He turned away with a quiet breath. Normally, Kaelor believed in letting people carry their secrets in peace. But something about this one tugged at his instincts. He couldn’t ignore it. Not entirely. Still, it would have to wait.

After lunch, the settlement stirred again. Everyone returned to their duties, though a certain sluggishness clung to the air as time passed.

Without Vi’s magic to lend speed and grace, progress had slowed to a crawl. The Dreadclaws, however, maintained their pace, cutting down a dozen trees while the slaves struggled with three.

The trees here were monstrous in their resilience, ancient hardwoods that towered like natural titans, their trunks thick and fibrous, possibly even stronger than any hardwood Kaelor had known on Earth.

On the second day, just as the sun began its climb over the valley rim, Kaelor strode toward the worksite, not with an axe in hand, but a longsword.

The slaves paused mid-task, their brows furrowed as they watched him approach a towering tree. Some exchanged looks, confusion etched on their dirt-smeared faces. Was he truly planning to cut down a tree with a sword?