A Deal That Stakes Everything

"Could it be...?"

Arno struggled to sit up. Just as he was about to think, waves of dense, bone-deep soreness surged through his back, as though he had been viciously stung by a swarm of venomous bees.

But that was not the point.

He instinctively reached behind himself. The skin beneath his fingertips was warm and elastic, no longer that despairing stiffness and coldness.

The Petrification Disease was gone?!

Ecstasy flooded his face.

The pain from those needle pricks... had become the most wonderful sensation imaginable.

He sharply drew in a breath—damp air carrying the scent of rotting leaves filled his lungs, flowing so smoothly that he nearly wept.

He tried moving his right arm. Though it was still weak and limp, its muscles aching as if they had been beaten, that suffocating shackle of petrification... was gone!

At least, it had temporarily disappeared.

A lightness belonging to the living flowed through his body at long last. Though this body was still as frail as if he had only just recovered from a serious illness, the crushing weight of carrying a stone coffin had been swept away.

Life itself cheered like a warm current washing through every limb and bone.

Yet that joy lasted only a fleeting instant before cold memories smothered it—

He had... sold his soul to a demon.

A chill crept up his spine. He unconsciously touched his chest, as though an invisible brand had already been seared there.

What would be the price of begging a demon?

Eternal servitude?

Or having his soul cast into endless torment after death?

His thoughts were a chaotic mess, but soon a fierce wave of self-mockery rose in his heart. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile uglier than tears.

Arno Belmont, what do you have left to lose? he questioned himself inwardly.

His noble family name? It had long since become worthless.

A healthy body? That was merely something the demon had lent him for the time being.

A knight's dignity? The moment he knelt and begged the demon, it had already been ground into mud.

The only thing he had left was that weighty, inseverable responsibility toward Laura and the children.

As long as he could let them live—live even a little better... his soul? Let the demon take it.

This cursed, filthy soul was the reward the demon deserved in the first place!

"Take my gift and return... When you come back next time, remember to bring Demi-human Language Books, Common Language Books, Ink for Writing Magic, Cream Cake, chocolate, candy..."

The demon's hoarse, inhuman whisper echoed through his mind once more.

His gaze swept over the surroundings, and on the slick mossy ground, he spotted a small object wrapped in some kind of tough leaves.

He carefully opened it. An extraordinarily pungent and bizarre odor rushed at him, a mixture of cloying sweetness and decay. Inside was a deep amber, nearly black, viscous paste.

Arno's pupils contracted slightly.

"Stinger Bee Pâté?"

As a down-and-out nobleman who had spent some time scraping by in Iron Boot Town, he recognized this stuff!

It was produced by Stinger Bee hives in the depths of the Swamp—highly poisonous, with collectors facing nine deaths for every chance at survival, yet it was a catalyst that certain alchemists dreamed of obtaining.

Such a small packet could fetch at least a dozen gold coins at the Adventurers Guild's purchasing counter!

His wild joy instantly washed away his self-mockery.

More than a dozen gold coins! It was far from enough to make up for the loss of his entire caravan and cargo, but it could pay the inn rent he owed, buy him a decent set of clothes, and perhaps... even leave a little over as capital to rise again!

This was simply a windfall fallen from the heavens in the depths of despair!

He clenched that precious packet of pâté tightly, as though he were grasping his final lifeline.

Yet after the wild joy came an overwhelming sense of conflict.

Did he really have to... come back to this damned Swamp?

The fear brought by those Gray-scaled beasts still lurked in his heart like a cold shadow.

Deeper within the Swamp, there was also that demon lurking on the strange Forest Path, demanding souls... Merely thinking of those emotionless, ghostly green eyes was enough to freeze his blood.

But he had no other choice, did he?

He recalled the demon's strange demands... Demi-human Language Books, Common Language Books...

Language books?

Were they for communication? Or to prepare the incantations for some evil ritual?

Ink for Writing Magic... it sounded expensive.

As for Cream Cake, chocolate... and candy? Those requests seemed especially strange, even somewhat... absurd. Could they be offerings for a sacrifice?

He shook his head. His jumbled thoughts were like tangled vines, impossible to sort out.

Enough!

He abruptly pushed himself to his feet. The aches wracking his body reminded him how weak he was right now, but the instinct to survive overwhelmed everything else.

His top priority was to get out of this forest alive!

With indescribably complicated emotions, Yano cast one last look into the forest depths shrouded in mist. Then, without hesitation, he turned around and limped—yet with unwavering resolve—toward the outside world, where the sunlight was growing brighter.

Every step carried him along the road home, yet every step felt like treading on the thin ice of an unknown fate.

The journey home was heavier than the journey here.

In the shadowy swamp, after Yano left, a round, plump Slime bounced out of the thick fog.

After watching that figure gradually be swallowed by the mist, Chen Yu turned and headed back to his territory.

Whether that human would return or not was not something he particularly cared about. What mattered more to him now was exploring the depths of the swamp.

While there was still time, he checked his supply of Stinger Swords, then left the territory alone and vanished into the dense poisonous fog.

Even in daylight, the fog deep in the swamp was so dense that no light could penetrate it. It was as black as night.

Only fluorescent moss gave off a faint ghostly glow. Vague Mushroom Person silhouettes could be seen moving within it. Farther in, enormous Leeches as thick as snakes churned through the swamp, along with mosquitoes the size of fists...

Toxin Resistance was an essential talent for the Demonic Beasts that dwelled here. At the same time, they seemed to possess other unusual gifts as well.

These Demonic Beasts might be far more than mere Black Iron Tier creatures.

During their campfire talks at night, Seja had mentioned the ranks of Demonic Beasts. Black Iron Tier Demonic Beasts were practically the lowest tier of existence in this forest.

Above them were the terrifying Bronze Tier Demonic Beasts and Silver Tier Demonic Beasts.

Even a Bronze Tier Demonic Beast alone was enough to contend with an ordinary three-man Lizardfolk hunting party. As for Silver Tier, it was something Seja had never even seen before—perhaps it existed deeper within the swamp.

Dense darkness closed in around him. Only his gelatinous body emitted a faint fluorescent glow, as if reminding predators that a tasty Slime dessert had wandered in.

And indeed, a Glow Mushroom Person had set its sights on him.

With exaggerated steps, it bounced over, scattering specks of fluorescent hallucinogenic spores along the way, intending to completely drug Chen Yu unconscious.

But in the next instant, the prey in its eyes suddenly gave off a dangerous aura.

A water arrow condensed and lengthened before shooting out at high speed.

Whoosh!

The water arrow pierced through the Glow Mushroom Person's stalk, blasting off its ghostly blue mushroom cap. It toppled straight to the ground, dead beyond doubt.

Only after the drifting spores had gradually settled did Chen Yu swallow the entire Glow Mushroom Person in one bite.

The moment he swallowed it, his body shuddered, as though he had gulped down a cool mint candy—with hallucinogenic effects.

His vision began to sway, and several little dancing figures appeared before his eyes.

This thing...

It really packs a punch.