'I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!'-Chapter 29: Ambush In Inferna Hollow

Near the southern border of the Runewood, Elven Queen Elarya stood before a massive, ancient tree unlike any other in the forest.

Its gnarled bark glowed like molten rock, pulsing with a lava-like sheen. Its leaves shimmered a deep, ember-red—flickering like tongues of fire in the wind.

From a distance, the tree looked as though it were ablaze, defying the lush greenery that surrounded it. Not a single plant or tree grew within thirty meters of it; the intense heat radiating from the bark incinerated anything that dared to get close. Only Elarya, with her natural hightened resistance to elemental forces, could stand in its presence without harm.

This was the Emberwood Tree, a forbidden place watched under the strictest secrecy. No elf was allowed to trespass near it. By her decree, it was off-limits—not just because of the searing danger, but because of the secret it held.

Queen Elarya’s elegant figure stood still, her emerald cloak billowing slightly in the hot wind. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes narrow with unease. She knew something was wrong.

"...Strange," she muttered, her voice as soft as wind through leaves. "I don’t recall allowing anyone near here."

As she surveyed the scorched earth, her senses stretched outward. It didn’t take long for her to notice faint depressions in the ground—footprints. Not one, but several. Most would have missed them entirely, but Elarya had activated Forest Eye, her personal skill of observation. Even the most well-hidden trails could not escape her gaze.

Her frown deepened.

"These aren’t mine," she said under her breath. "But... how did they avoid my detection?"

No one had ever breached the inner sanctums of the Runewood without her knowing. Ever. Her authority over the ancient forest’s watchful magic was absolute. For someone—or several—to move unseen meant something had failed. Or someone had interfered using a special skill that hides their presence.

There was only one way to be certain and to follow their tracks.

"...Will Mathes be alright if I leave the forest?" she murmured aloud.

A moment passed—and then, a voice answered her from within her mind.

"That depends on whether you manage to stop them."

It was the voice of the Whisper Oracle, ancient and cryptic. Elarya sighed.

"Them?" Her eyes furrow depeened.

"In that case... I leave the Runewood in your care." freewebnoveℓ.com

There was no reply. Only silence from the one she had long relied on for guidance. The Whisper Oracle rarely gave answers she wanted—and when it chose silence, it often meant the truth was something she wasn’t ready to face.

She didn’t ask again.

With a deep breath, Queen Elarya stepped forward and placed her hand against the molten surface of the Emberwood Tree. The bark, though burning to others, rippled like liquid under her touch. She whispered a chant under her breath and the next moment, the bark shimmered, then dissolved into swirling energy.

Elarya’s body turned into a beam of green light and was instantly pulled into the surface. Her vision distorted—light bent, twisted, and spiraled like she was being dragged through a violent vortex. Then came a burst of searing white—

—and the next thing she knew, her feet touched solid ground again.

She was no longer in the Runewood.

She had entered Inferna Hollow—a sealed dimension hidden within the Emberwood, created to contain the most dangerous beast the forest had ever known.

The air here shimmered with heat. Floating islands hovered above a vast abyss, each one riddled with glowing volcanoes and jagged, red-rock mountains. At the heart of this infernal realm was a colossal island, towering over the rest. Upon its peak, bound in glowing green chains, lay a massive creature—its body a flaming inferno of fur and power.

This was Vulkris—the apex predator of the past.

A Disaster-Level Beast.

A creature so powerful, it had once earned the classification of King-Level, the highest tier of known beasts in Runewood.

Three hundred years ago, Vulkris had not yet been evolved into its current form. Its kind—the Vuls—originated from the desolate Thunga Desert, but scarcity of prey and water had driven them to the verdant Runewood. Their lion-like bodies, tails wreathed in blue flame, and monstrous power allowed them to thrive quickly.

They did not belong to the forest, and the forest rejected them.

Their heat scorched the trees, their breath kindled forest fires, and their presence nearly razed the entire eastern side of Runewood. Their population exploded in a matter of years, threatening the balance of the ecosystem.

Back then, the Runewood was ruled by two dominant predator clans: the Vuls in the east and south, and the Night Stalkers in the west and north. The river dividing the forest served as the only boundary between the two, acting as both territory line and natural firebreak.

Queen Elarya, still young at the time, took decisive action. With the council’s blessing, she initiated a purge. of the Vuls who continued to bring destruction in their peaceful forest.

A brutal, month-long campaign unfolded. Elves fought relentlessly, their silver bows and nature magic clashing against roaring flame and blazing claws. Many died. The eastern forest was devastated.

But as the Vuls were hunted down, one among them refused to fall.

The Alpha—larger, more cunning, and far more vicious than the rest—fought back with a terrifying will to survive. As its kin perished around it, it fed on their dying flames, absorbing their strength. Each battle, each kill, only made it stronger.

It became the last of its kind. The most dangerous.And the hardest to bring down.

Through relentless combat and sheer fury, the Alpha of the Vuls climbed beyond its limits—growing in size, intelligence, and magical resistance.

Eventually, it reached Level 70—a threshold no wild beast had ever crossed unaided.

And in that moment... it changed.

Its body erupted in blue fire, flames surging from within as if its very soul had ignited. The heat distorted the air around it, warping the shapes of trees and stone.

Its once-blue fur twisted and writhed, changing before their eyes. The brilliant blue deepened into a dark, unnatural shade—shifting into purple-red, like molten twilight. The transformation consumed every inch of its body, burning away the beast it once was, and birthing something far more fearsome in its place.

With a thunderous roar that cracked the skies and echoed across the entire eastern forest, the beast shed its old form.

Then came the final horror.

From its back, flaming, dragon-like wings burst forth—long, jagged, and ablaze with living fire. They didn’t flap like a bird’s—they pulsed like volcanic eruptions with every heartbeat.

It no longer resembled a lion.

It had become something primal, volatile, and godlike—a beast of fire and ruin.

This was no longer just a predator.

This was Vulkris, awakened.

It descended upon the elven forces like a living catastrophe.

Scores of warriors fell within minutes.

Veteran archers, master swordsmen, even elite battlemages—those who had once triumphed against titanic beasts—were reduced to ash and bone. Their spells barely singed its hide. Elemental blasts that could tear through fortress walls left only shallow scorch marks.

Enchanted weapons, forged in sacred elven forges and blessed by ancient rites, melted the moment they struck its flaming hide. The air itself rebelled, thick with choking heat and the screams of the dying.

Even Mathes, the kingdom’s mightiest warrior, and Queen Elarya herself—one of the most gifted elemental mages in Runewood’s history—struggled to contain the chaos. Their combined might could only slow the creature... not stop it.

Vulkris was no longer a beast.

It had become a disaster incarnate.

Elarya, guided by the prophecy of the Whisper Oracle, did not kill it. Instead, with the help of the Whiker Oracle she sealed it. A tree was enchanted and turned into a gateway: the Emberwood. It became Vulkris’s prison and sanctuary—a contained, hostile dimension built just for it.

And now, here she was again, standing at the edge of its domain after 300 years.

System Alerts flashed before her eyes:

[Debuff: Fire Elemental Resistance -20%][Debuff: Continuous Burn Damage – 20/s][Debuff: Earth and Water Elemental Effectiveness -20%]

Elarya glanced at the alerts calmly. It was expected.

Her eyes turned toward the distant platform where Vulkris lay chained, radiating waves of heat even in slumber.

She took one step forward—

—and froze.

A tingle ran down her spine. There were movements in her surroundings. Hidden, but they are there.

Then—

[FROZEN PRISON]

Without warning, massive ice spires erupted from every direction. They shot upward and inward, forming a translucent crystalline cage around the elven queen.

"Now!"

A man’s voice echoed from the shadows.

Before Elarya could react, five hooded figures emerged from thin air—each cloaked in illusion magic, each already mid-cast.

[AQUA LANCE]

One of them was a mysterious woman with a high-pitched voice. She raised her hand—and in an instant, dozens of spears made of compressed water materialized in the sky.

They rained down with brutal precision, striking from every angle. The ice prison shattered beneath the assault, each spear bursting into clouds of scalding steam.

[LIGHTNING BALL]

A second figure emerged—a tall man with a voice like an ancient storm, crackling from beneath his hood. A glowing sphere of lightning coiled in his hand before launching forward like a comet.

It slammed into the mist.

The world erupted into arcs of blinding electricity and a storm of howling static. The air turned into a cage of white-hot light.

Then came the final blow—

[EARTH HAMMER]

A deep, thunderous voice bellowed from behind. A third figure stepped forward, summoning a colossal boulder high above with a single stomp.

Judging by his stout frame and gravel-thick voice, it was clear he belonged somewhere in the dwarven bloodlines—shorter than the others, but radiating raw, earthen power.

With a sharp chant, he brought his arm down.

The stone fell like judgment from the heavens.

WHABOOOOOOM!

The entire floating island quaked as the impact shattered the massive ice prison. Stone, water, and lightning collided in a storm of raw, unforgiving force. The sky split with thunder as rubble exploded outward, and the very air ignited with arcs of wild magic.

A tempest of shattered rock and crackling energy rained down, tearing through the clouds like divine fury.

Amid the destruction, one truth remained uncertain: The fate of the Elven Queen.

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