"..."

Silence descended upon the massive, circular room as Verc’s sword pierced through the skeleton’s skull. The violent echoes of their hours-long struggle finally died away.

Verc didn’t move. In fact--

"GURGH...!"

He even drove the tip of his blade deeper into the skeleton’s skull! He leaned his weight into the hilt, feeling the resistance of the ancient bone as the metal bit further into the hollow space. He wasn’t taking any chances. After a fight that had pushed him to his physical and mental limits, he needed to make sure he landed the hit properly.

Then--

’D-Did I do it?’

Verc asked in his head, his eyes narrowed as he watched for any flicker in those empty sockets. But even after a few seconds—the skeleton still didn’t move. It lay there, a heap of bones and tattered fabric, pinned to the floor by his steel.

That question made him frown, in fact. It felt like he was jinxing it. He half-expected the bones to rattle again, or for a dark spear to manifest out of thin air and impale him while he was distracted by his own victory. But still... a few more seconds passed...

And there was still no reaction from the skeleton!

Fwish~~~

The oppressive, suffocating aura that had filled the room for hours had vanished as well, replaced by the stale, dusty smell of an ancient tomb.

"Fuuuhh..."

Verc finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He pulled his sword back just an inch and used [Vital Mapping].

And after a couple of seconds—he saw a core-like ball of concentrated mana inside the skeleton’s left eye-socket. And it was shattered, broken into dim fragments because his sword had pierced straight through it!

In short—

"I won."

Verc muttered, a small smile appearing on his face.

The tension drained from his shoulders, though he still felt the dull ache of a hundred bruises. In his last attack, he had trusted [Scavenger’s Instinct] and thrust his sword where the skill was telling him the most valuable part of the skeleton resided. He had figured that with a ragged robe and old bones, the physical remains themselves wouldn’t be worth much.

So, when he sensed that something was worth money inside the skeleton—Verc concluded that it had to be its core. He wasn’t sure about that at the time; it was a huge gamble. If he had been wrong, and the core was located in the ribs or the spine, the skeleton would have simply countered him at point-blank range. That would have caused him major injuries. Worst; it would kill him.

But he figured that if he couldn’t finish the skeleton there and then—his chance of winning the battle and leaving the place alive would be close to impossible anyway.

After all, he was already beat. The energy he had meticulously stored was all gone.

With all the healing he did throughout the fight to keep his limbs attached and the massive amount of mana he constantly used to catch the skeleton; this was an obvious outcome. He was running on fumes.

"I got lucky again."

Verc said, finally standing up and recovering his sword with a sharp tug.

FWIP-FWISH!

He wiped the blade on a relatively clean patch of the skeleton’s robe before sheathing it. He still kept a wary eye on the unmoving skeleton on the floor. Its bones were now separated from each other, looking like nothing more than a pile of anatomical debris.

He still had this inkling feeling that the skeleton might come back to life and attack him again. It was the kind of paranoia that only survives a life-or-death struggle. Fortunately, though, that was not the case. The fragments of the core didn’t glow, and the bones remained still.

Anyway... He also reviewed what he did earlier during his last attack.

He thought about the way [Scavenger’s Instinct] had reacted to a living—or rather, un-living—target.

When he used [Scavenger’s Instinct] like [Vital Mapping], it made him realize something important about his own growth.

"Maybe my skills are more useful than I thought they were."

He stated, his voice echoing slightly in the hollow arena. He opened his mouth again, his mind racing with new tactical possibilities.

"I just need to be creative with them."

He added that.

After this, Verc decided to experiment and study his skills more thoroughly once he was back at the base. If he could combine his passive instincts with his active combat skills, he could become much more efficient.

*****

Anyway, after accepting that the skeleton was really gone for good—Verc started roaming around the room.

He was limping slightly, but his natural regeneration was already starting to knit his minor wounds back together.

He already knew that it was just a massive, circular room with nothing inside but the skeleton. From a distance, the walls looked smooth and featureless. But There might be secret rooms or treasure hidden somewhere on the walls, floor, or even the ceiling.

Oh, also, Verc had tried to drink the blood of the skeleton earlier—but because the monster was all bones... he got literally nothing. He had tried to find a vein or a lingering drop of essence, but he had ended up just looking like a dog gnawing on its bone.

And this annoyed Verc a little—

’I could’ve gotten its ability to use magic.’

He thought to himself.

He wasn’t guaranteed to get a skill from every drop of blood, but the skeleton’s magic had been top-tier. Just thinking that there was a chance to inherit that spatial manipulation or the shadow spikes and that he had missed it because the guy lacked blood... it really bothered him.

... ... ...

Verc continued searching the room for a while more.

He tapped on the stone blocks, feeling for hollow spots, and scanned the floor for any pressure plates. The silence was heavy, but it was no longer threatening.

Then, after what felt like half an hour of tedious searching, he reached the far end of the room, opposite the massive gates.

And there... he noticed a small stone door.

"Hmm?"

Verc was confused. The door was so well-integrated into the masonry that he had almost walked past it. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

He thought that it couldn’t be made by the skeleton. In the first place, the skeleton likely couldn’t open or destroy the door, just like the massive stone gates that kept it prisoner in this place.

"What the hell is it this time?"

Verc analyzed it carefully. He used his skills to find traps that might be hidden in the door or behind it.

He checked for tripwires, poison needles, or magical seals. But there was nothing. Even [Danger Sense] was silent, which was usually a good sign that he wasn’t about to be blown up.

And so, after thinking about it for a while—CREAAK!

Verc opened the door. It was heavy and loud, the sound of stone grinding on stone echoing sharply. Contrary to its small size, it required a significant amount of his physical strength to budge.

Tap-

Then, after getting inside the room it was hiding—Verc looked around.

The air here was even more stagnant than in the arena. It smelled of old paper and dried parchment. If it wasn’t for [Nocturnal Sight] that had upgraded and was basically a night vision now; Verc probably wouldn’t see a thing in the room. To him, the pitch-black chamber was illuminated in shades of grey and sharp outlines.

"Huh...?"

Then, at the middle of the room—Verc saw a corpse.

It was a corpse of a man, and unlike the skeleton; it still had its skin and all. The body sat against the back wall, his legs crossed.

The corpse looked like a normal man, preserved in the dry, still air. The only thing that made Verc realize it was a dead body—aside from the complete lack of movement—was that he couldn’t sense any form of life in it. No heartbeat, no breath, no mana flow.

Tap- Tap- Tap-

Anyway, Verc slowly approached it, his hand hovering near his sword hilt just in case.

And upon getting close—he noticed a battered, dusty journal on the lap of the dead man that was sitting in a lotus position.

"What’s that?"

The man’s head was bowed, as if he had died while reading or praying. Verc looked at journal, and his curiosity was poked.

So, he slowly reached out his hand—FWIP~

Then he took the journal. It was surprisingly light, the leather cover cracked and brittle with age.

Verc wasted no time and opened it up. The ink was faded in some parts, but the handwriting was elegant and clear. Then upon reading a few couple sentences from the first page...

"This is..."

He immediately realized that it was the story about the [Cursed Forest]--and why it was like this now!

*****

Verc read the journal without a stop, leaning against the wall of the hidden chamber. It wasn’t as long as he had expected; the entries were concise, written by someone who didn’t want to waste words. But still, what he learned cleared up some of the darkest mysteries surrounding the forest.

So apparently, centuries ago, the forest was divided into two lands, handled by two brothers who acted as the lords of each land.

Both lands were just normal cities, peaceful and quiet. Nothing noteworthy happened there—they were independent lands back then, far from the squabbles of the great empires.

But it didn’t last long. Peace is often a fragile thing when kings look toward the horizon.

At that time--

The ancestors of the royal family of the [Kingdom of Halveron] decided to expand their lands, and unfortunately—the two cities became their first target.

The Kingdom was just newly made back then, and they were hungry for resources and territory. They weren’t that strong, and the Empire wasn’t backing them in that era, which made them even more desperate to prove their power.

But still... the two cities had nothing. They were places of trade and farming, not of war. They had no soldiers that could face the organized army of the royal family. They were outnumbered and outgeared.

And so, the two brothers chose the path of mercy...

They surrendered instead of fighting. They opened their gates and offered their loyalty, hoping to spare their people from a bloody siege.

But the King back then was a man consumed by paranoia.

He thought they had some secret plan to backstab him, or that their surrender was a ruse to gather allies. And so—he ignored their pleas and continued to wage war on the two cities!

But it wasn’t a war... it was a slaughter...

People died here and there, helplessly, unable to fight back. The journal described the horrors in detail—the kids, the elders, the pregnant, the sick, and even the animals. No one was spared.

The royal family tried to wipe them all out to ensure there would be no future rebellions.

And during the war—one of the brothers was caught by the King.

The King wanted to make an example of him. In public, he humiliated him, stripping him of his dignity before beheading him in front of a weeping crowd of his own people.

And the other brother, he witnessed this all happen from the shadows. He saw his brother’s head roll, and in that moment, something inside him snapped.

In a rage that transcended human understanding, he swore revenge.

He raised the war flag of the two cities that were now under his control—or what was left of them. He marched with the remaining people, the broken and the grieving, toward the army of the royal family. They were armed with cheap weapons—pitchforks, rusted knives, and stones.

He knew he and the others were going to lose. He knew that this was a suicide mission.

But he didn’t stop! He led them into the fray and fought with the desperation of a man who had nothing left to lose!

The one brother led the normal citizens and clashed with the royal army—a lot died. Countless of them fell under the disciplined spears of the Halveron soldiers.

The battlefield was soaked in the blood of innocents!

But in actuality—this was exactly what the brother wanted...

He hadn’t been looking for a military victory.

He was looking for a sacrifice!

So as death surrounded him and the battlefield became a sea of corpses, he called out--He called for the Evil God, a name whispered only in the darkest of myths!

He wished for power—absolute, terrifying power—in exchange for every single soul on the battlefield, along with his own!

And that Evil God answered him.

In that terrible moment, his flesh and skin started melting away. His hair fell out in clumps, and his eyes rotted in their sockets, replaced by a cold, purple fire. The screams of the dying souls provided the symphony for his transformation.

And on that day—he was reborn as a Dark Lich!

He didn’t just fight back; he became a calamity. He massacred everyone in the battlefield that day, friend and foe alike. The Halveron army was turned into dust, their souls devoured by the monster they had created!

And that day too... was when the two cities and the surrounding greenery started to change. The land absorbed the grudge of the thousands who died. The trees twisted, the animals mutated, and the air turned poisonous.

That was the day the two cities started to become the [Cursed Forest].