'Could it be...'
Yano struggled to sit up. The moment he tried to think, a dense, bone-deep ache pulsed across his back, as if he had been brutally stung by a swarm of poisonous bees.
But that wasn't the point.
He subconsciously reached a hand behind his back to feel it. The skin his fingertips met was warm and supple, no longer that despairingly stiff, cold surface.
'The Petrification Disease is cured?!'
His face lit up with elation.
This stinging pain... was now the most wonderful sensation he could imagine.
He drew a sharp breath—the damp air, fragrant with decaying leaves, filled his lungs so smoothly it nearly brought him to tears.
He tried to move his right arm. It was still weak, the muscles aching as if they had been beaten, but that suffocating shackle of petrification... was gone!
'At least, it's gone for now.'
For the first time in ages, the lightness of a living being flowed through him. His body was still as weak as if he'd just recovered from a major illness, but the crushing weight, like he'd been carrying a stone sarcophagus, was swept clean away.
The joy of being alive washed over him like a warm current, suffusing every inch of his being.
However, the joy lasted but a moment before it was eclipsed by a chilling memory—
'He had sold his soul... to a Demon.'
A chill crept up his spine, and he subconsciously touched his chest, as if an invisible brand had been seared upon it.
'What would be the price for pleading with a Demon?'
'Eternal servitude?'
'Or would my soul be cast into endless torment after death?'
His mind was a chaotic mess, but a wave of bitter self-mockery soon washed over him. He tugged at the corners of his mouth, forcing a smile that was more painful than tears.
'Yano Belmont, what do you have left to lose?' he asked himself.
'A noble surname? It's been worthless for a long time.'
'A healthy body? The Demon has only lent me this one for now.'
'The dignity of a Knight? That was ground to dust the moment I knelt and begged the Demon.'
The only thing he had left was the heavy, unshakable responsibility he felt for Lola and the children.
'As long as I can help them survive, help them live even a little bit better... my soul? The Demon can take it.'
'This cursed, filthy soul is the payment the Demon deserves!'
"Take my gift and go... When you return, remember to bring books on the Sub-human language, books on the Common Language, ink for writing Magic Books, cream cakes, chocolate, and candy..."
The Demon's hoarse, inhuman whisper echoed in his mind once more.
His gaze swept the area, and there on the slippery, moss-covered ground, he found a small object wrapped in some kind of tough leaf.
He opened it carefully. A bizarre, extremely pungent odor—a mix of cloying sweetness and decay—assaulted him. Inside was a viscous, dark amber paste, almost black in color.
Yano's pupils constricted.
'Poisonous Sting Bee pulp?'
As a disgraced noble who had spent some time knocking around Iron Boot Town, he recognized this stuff!
It was a product from the hives of Poisonous Sting Bees deep in the swamp. It was incredibly toxic, and harvesting it was a death-defying task, yet it was a catalyst coveted by certain Alchemists.
A small pouch like this would fetch at least a dozen Gold Coins at the Adventurers' Guild!
A wave of ecstasy instantly washed away his self-pity.
A dozen Gold Coins! It was nowhere near enough to cover the loss of his entire caravan and its cargo, but it was enough to pay his overdue rent at the inn, buy a decent set of clothes, and even... leave a little left over as capital to get back on his feet!
This was a veritable windfall in his desperate situation!
He clutched the pouch of precious pulp tightly, as if it were his last straw of hope.
Yet, in the wake of his elation, a profound conflict seized him.
'Do I... have to come back to this damned swamp?'
The terror inspired by those Gray Scale brutes still lingered in his heart like a cold shadow.
And deeper in the swamp, there was the Demon that lurked on that strange forest path, demanding souls... The mere thought of those eerie green, emotionless eyes was enough to freeze the blood in his veins.
'But I have no other choice, do I?'
He recalled the Demon's strange requests... books on the Sub-human language, books on the Common Language...
'Language books?'
'Is it for communication? Or to prepare incantations for some evil ritual?'
'Ink for writing Magic Books... that sounds expensive.'
'As for cream cakes, chocolate... and candy? The request was bizarre, even a little... absurd. Are they meant to be sacrificial offerings?'
He shook his head, his thoughts a chaotic tangle of vines he couldn't begin to sort out.
'I'm done thinking about it!'
He lurched to his feet. The ache in his body was a sharp reminder of his weakness, but the instinct to survive overrode everything else.
The priority now was to get out of this forest alive!
With a final, complex expression, Yano glanced back at the mist-shrouded depths of the forest. Then, without hesitation, he turned and began to walk toward the growing sunlight of the outside world, his steps limping but firm.
Every step took him closer to home, but each one also felt like a step onto the thin ice of an unknown fate.
The journey back was heavier than the one that had brought him here.
...
In the Dark Swamp, as Yano departed, a roly-poly Slime came bouncing out of the thick fog.
After a glance at the figure's disappearing back, which was gradually being swallowed by the mist, Chen Yu turned and returned to his territory.
He wasn't particularly concerned about whether the human would return. He was more interested in exploring the depths of the swamp.
Since it was still early, he checked his reserves of Poisonous Sting swords, then left his territory alone and vanished into the dense, toxic fog.
Even during the day, the fog in the depths of the swamp was so thick that no light could penetrate, leaving it as dark as night.
Only the Fluorescent Moss gave off a faint, eerie glow. Vague silhouettes of Mushroom People could be seen moving within it. Deeper still, the swamp churned with massive, snake-like leeches and fist-sized mosquitos...
Poison resistance was a mandatory trait for the monsters living here, but it seemed they possessed other unique talents as well.
These monsters were likely more than just Black Iron Tier.
During a chat around the campfire, Sergash had mentioned monster rankings. Black Iron Tier monsters were practically the lowest form of existence in the forest.
Above them were the terrifying Bronze Tier and Silver Tier monsters.
Even a single Bronze Tier monster was enough to take on a normal three-person Lizardman hunting party. As for Silver Tier, that was a level of being even Sergash had never witnessed, creatures that likely existed only in the deepest parts of the swamp.
The thick Darkness wrapped around him. Only his Gel body emitted a faint fluorescence, as if announcing to all predators that a delicious Slime dessert had just wandered in.
And indeed, a Fluorescent Mushroom Person had already locked onto him.
It approached with an exaggerated, bouncing gait, scattering fluorescent, hallucinogenic spores in its wake, intending to completely stupefy Chen Yu.
But in the next moment, the prey in its eyes suddenly radiated a dangerous aura.
A water arrow condensed, stretched, and shot forth.
SWISH!
The water arrow pierced the Fluorescent Mushroom Person's stalk, knocking its eerie-blue cap clean off. It fell to the ground, dead as a doornail.
Chen Yu waited for the drifting spores to settle before swallowing the entire Fluorescent Mushroom Person in one gulp.
The moment he swallowed it, his body shuddered. It was like eating a cool mint that also happened to be hallucinogenic.
His vision swam, and little dancing figures appeared before his eyes.
'This stuff...'
'...really packs a punch.'