Chapter 19

For a careless warrior or sorcerer, it would be an intimidating scene that would likely provoke an immediate attack.

And they would pay dearly for it.

Beatrice paused for a moment. Right beside her, Erich, who was carefully following her warning, also stopped his steps.

“This time, it’s birds.”

Last time it was horses, the time before that, cows. Beatrice muttered quietly. The dark blue eyes that had been scanning every detail finally fixed on her cheek.

“Have you been here many times?”

“Mm. The lightning-struck jujube tree is useful, so I came by now and then to collect it. Jujube branches drive away evil things, strengthen protective barriers, and even repel black magic like necromancy… They were used in the barrier in your bedroom too, you know?”

“Does it really work?”

He was implying that, after all, he still ended up cursed. Beatrice quietly shrank.

“Sorry. Maybe its power faded…”

But who could have possibly broken through her barrier to curse Erich von Schwert with dark magic?

She was genuinely curious, but pushed the question aside. Now wasn’t the time to leisurely search for answers.

Erich’s hand, holding hers, tightened. Instead of protesting, Beatrice looked past the parade of Pucas to gaze farther ahead.

Where a single giant jujube tree stood, its circumference easily over 15 meters.

Around the tree, dark shadows swirled. Thick black clouds formed a massive circle, making the domain of the divine tree visible even to the n*ked eye.

It was a scene that would inspire awe in anyone, even the uninformed.

Beatrice squinted and gauged the sky. The cloud layer was thick, but didn’t look heavy.

“No lightning for two hours.”

“Is that good?”

“Of course it is. Imagine climbing up for a branch and getting struck by lightning. You’d die instantly.”

“…Thanks for the friendly explanation.”

Beatrice giggled.

Along the path to the tree, Pucas sat here and there, flapping their wings. Their black feathers blowing in the wind looked like gloomy raindrops.

“The method for bringing back a branch isn’t honestly that hard.”

“I hope your explanation is as friendly as before.”

“One person communicates with the Puca while the other breaks off a branch.”

“What role do you want me to play?”

“Hm.”

Beatrice stepped toward the tree. Erich matched her pace.

As they walked toward the tree, the Pucas watched with caution but didn’t move. Passing by their bright yellow eyes, Beatrice whispered quietly.

“You break off a few branches. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a lightning-struck one; if not, you won’t. Meanwhile, I’ll communicate with the Puca.”

“Is it hard to distinguish between lightning-struck branches and ordinary ones?”

“It’s hard. There’s almost no difference.”

“But you can tell.”

“Yeah.”

Erich narrowed his eyes. Beatrice grumbled inwardly—this is why she disliked perceptive men.

“It sounds inefficient. Wouldn’t it be better for you to climb the tree while I communicate with the Puca? You’d easily find the right branch.”

“…That’s unpleasant.”

“What is?”

“Communicating with the Puca isn’t exactly a pleasant experience, Erich von Schwert. I’m speaking from experience, so just climb the tree yourself.”

Erich grinned mischievously. Beatrice, catching that smile, ground her teeth and rolled her eyes toward the sky.

They always argued like this. They’d fight over who would take on the unpleasant task.

With her free hand, Beatrice nervously tousled her hair.

Ah, whatever. 

He volunteered, so what can she do?

Erich’s stubbornness was stronger than hers. It was truly unfair.

Beatrice had almost never won against Erich von Schwert in matters of stubbornness…

When she let out a deep sigh, Erich, reading her surrender, shrugged. The noble smile on his face slowly faded.

“What does communicating with the Puca entail?”

“It shows you your past or future.”

“Hm.”

Before they knew it, they had arrived in the shadow cast by the tree. Confirming their target was the ‘jujube tree,’ the Pucas opened their beaks and began to cry threateningly.

It was chilling. The sound was like a funeral dirge.

The cry reminded them of wars with no winners or losers.

There are wars with clear victors, and wars with no winners or losers. Where nothing survives, not even the grass around the battlefield, leaving only ruins.

They had lived through such wars,

So they understood perfectly why the Puca cried.

“Communicating with those is definitely an unpleasant experience.”

“Why, do you want to climb the tree after all?”

“No. I’m curious what the Puca will say to me.”

Even among the flock of Pucas, there was a leader. The largest bird sitting in the jujube tree fluttered down. Facing it, Erich let go of Beatrice’s hand.

Then he waved her off, as if annoyed.

“Go.”

“…”

“Aren’t you going?”

“…It’s impossible, but if you can, when it gets too hard, close your eyes.”

“If I close my eyes, what about you?”

At Beatrice’s hesitation, Erich snorted. Shooing her like a sparrow, Beatrice pouted and turned toward the tree.

Touching the base of the tree, she looked back to see Erich facing the Puca leader.

She quickly began to move.

* * *

The moment Erich von Schwert met the Puca’s hazy eyes, he felt reality distort.

Slowly, the world melted away.

His surroundings were becoming opaque.

The tree disappeared, Beatrice Winter climbing it disappeared, and the unpleasantly cawing Pucas disappeared.

Then, suddenly…

A new world was constructed. In his newly clear vision, lightning struck. Brilliant purple lightning painted everything white.

Even as the scene unfolded before his eyes, Erich von Schwert wasn’t particularly surprised.

An unpleasant experience.

Past or future.

Combining these two phrase, he could roughly guess what he would see. He had hoped to see the future, but apparently failed.

Surveying his surroundings with dry eyes, Erich exhaled. Lightning struck again. In the ‘Forest of Lightning,’ thunder often matched the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Searching for a cigarette in his pocket, Erich realized this was ‘inside his consciousness’ and groaned.

D*mn.

Tap tap. The sound of running.

He instinctively knew whose anxious footsteps those were, even without time to hide their presence.

Erich looked up and glimpsed his fifteen-year-old self.

The pale-faced boy was running desperately. Barely keeping himself from falling multiple times. In the most precarious posture, leaving his attendants far behind, he was truly sprinting at full speed.

The sound of a heart pounding almost to bursting. The half-choking sound. The relentless crunch of leaves underfoot. The occasional sound of lightning.

Erich slowly closed and opened his eyes.

…Unpleasant.

Indeed, as Beatrice Winter had said, it was unpleasant. Not just sight and sound, but smell, taste, and touch revived as well.

Smelling the burnt scent unique to the ‘Forest of Lightning,’ he rubbed his forehead irritably.

The boy had already arrived at the villa in the center of the forest. Erich wanted to shout at the pale, frantic boy to turn back instead of entering.

…But the boy opened the door.

The Erich von Schwert of the past opened the door and faced the horror that happened to his parents.

“…Ah.”

The child couldn’t even scream, covering his mouth with his hand as he collapsed. Then, barely crawling up again, he started toward his parents, whose insides had been half-eaten by monsters.

No. It wasn’t just that their insides had been eaten.

The monsters could never forget the Grand Duke and Duchess Schwert, who had stood at the forefront of humanity and butchered their own kind.

They were thorough.

His parents—far beyond having their insides eaten—had their limbs torn apart.

The boy, with trembling hands, gathered the pieces of his parents. Obsessed with somehow restoring them.

He picked up bones chewed and spat out by monsters, picked up tattered flesh, and picked up crushed organs.

Bang. The door opened and closed for the second time.