The gang traveled under a rainy autumn sky. Rain would fall regularly, sometimes a short drizzle, other times a squall. The weather wasn't cooperating but the trip had to be made. The muddy road, flooding river, and monsters became complications that sapped their stamina.

“This monster is sick too. No doubt we’re going in the right direction.”

Croix looked ahead under a light rain, a silhouette of a forest could be seen at a distance.

“The elves are famously insular and isolationists. The problem must be really bad. So bad that they couldn't handle the spillage.”

“Then as good neighbors, we should lend them a hand, don't you think?” Viers said with an amused undertone.

“I hope they will be amicable to dialogue, at least,” Croix was hopeful.

The monsters had to be disposed of so the disease wouldn't spread. The wet weather made burning them difficult. At least, that was normally the case, but a little rain was nothing to dragon fire. Falmerion had a tantrum because he couldn't eat the monsters.

The disease was very dangerous. A bite or scratch would infect people, making the infected get red boils on their bodies. Normal humans would then have a high fever and die two or three days later.

The Shore was spared from this because they didn't let the diseased monsters come close but along the way, they saw villages that weren't so lucky.

There was a case where a villager found a dead monster, brought it to the village, and ate it after thoroughly cooking it. No survivors.

Pathseekers had stronger resistance to the magical disease, especially Level 3 and above, because they had Unreality Field. Alfred tried to dissuade Croix from going, but the prince wouldn't budge.

Oddly enough, the monsters that carried the disease didn't seem to be getting weaker or dying. If anything, they became more aggressive like in a berserk state.

Seeing Viers’ expression, Alfred got close to him and whispered. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“The sickness seems to be by design. That’s what I’m thinking.”

When the party arrived at the foot of the forest, there was no welcome. Only the sound of falling rain.

“Elves of Liapris forest, we’ve come to seek an audience,” Alfred said loudly, but even after several times, there was no answer.

“...No answer. We’ll apologize when we meet them. Let us be off,” Croix led the way but Boram’s extended hand barred his way.

“I’ll take point. There’s no telling what will come.”

“Ah, of course. I’m sorry for being so weak compared to you,” Croix smiled dejectedly.

“T-that’s not what I-”

“I’m kidding,” Croix grinned. “Thanks, Boram. And be careful, okay?”

The party used a line formation. The first was Boram followed by Alfred, Croix was next and Viers was bringing up the rear.

Liapris forest… I know one thing that we’ll find though.

Viers removed his hand from his chest pocket and touched the ordinary sword on his hip. As he walked, he kept his eyes and ears open.

The forest was like any other forest at first glance, but the group soon found themselves going in circles.

“We’re lost, Master,” Boram said with a frown.

“Incorrect, Boram!”

“Eh?”

“We are not lost. It’s the forest that is lost. Why else do people call it the Lost Forest? Hahahah!”

“O…kay?”

“Watch, we’ll find this cowardly forest. It can't hide from me!” Viers said with unshakable confidence.

Viers then proceeded by choosing a direction and unsheathed his sword. He now led the way replacing Boram. With each step he took, he swung his sword. When there was a tree branch in his way, he swung his sword. When there was a big stone, he swung his sword and cut it in two. When there was a river, he jumped over it and swung his sword. When there was nothing on his way, he swung his sword.

Each swing was exactly the same, a vertical downward slash with two hands.

What Viers did was brute-forcing his way through the first defensive formation of the elves. Like solving a maze by bursting through walls. Naturally, a simple sword swing, however many repeated, would be useless. Viers was using his mastery over the way of the sword to cut through the forest’s unnatural phenomenon.

Each swing was an Arte: Cut the Crap.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“...Incredible.” Alfred was full of praise seeing Viers’ skill with the sword. He didn't think Viers was such an accomplished swordsman since he didn't use his sword much. He wondered how much ability the younger man still concealed.

A day later, after repelling many monsters’ interruptions, Viers found the forest that was lost, just like he promised.

More accurately, there was an arch made of trees, clearly magical. Beyond, the place clearly had significantly higher ambient mana and the trees there had indigo leaves.

Three masked humanoids barred their way under the arch. Two were aiming their bows toward them.

“Intruders, turn back and leave this place. This is your final warning.”

The three were all wearing wooden masks but the pointed ears were unmistakable.

“Elves of Liapris, I am Croix, Viceroy of the Shore. You all have my deepest apologies for visiting your home uninvited. I assure you that I and my entourage come here not with ill intent.”

Croix started his attempt at diplomacy. Viers was glad he didn't have to do something so complicated while being Croix’s vassal. Meanwhile, Viers put his attention to other things, such as the other elves that hid themselves and how the three in front of him were looking pretty battered up; not only were they covered in wounds, but they were also sick.

The exchange had been going on for a while without much progress. The elves refused to give them entry to their tree homes. Croix insisted he was trying to help but still no dice. The elves were hanging on to their isolationist stance and kept saying they had everything under control.

Obviously Viers didn't believe them. The disease-ridden monsters were roaming around. There were signs that many trees weren't in a healthy state.

Viers glanced at one of the three under the arch. The one who didn't carry a bow. A woman, based on her body, hair, and voice. The peculiar thing about her was that her ears weren't pointy like the elves. She interjected a few times, trying to give Croix a chance but her proposal got shot down by the elf next to her.

Rules, tradition, distrust, the reasons wouldn't end. Just as Viers was wondering how much longer this would take, there was a new arrival from the sky.

“Enemy attack!” One of the elves shouted. Arrows and Artes were set loose upwards.

It was a yellow fly the size of a motorcycle, heavily mutated. The Rank 3 monster was clearly unhealthy to touch because of the poison and disease.

“Argh!”

An elf that was hidden in the trees fell down while clenching his left arm. The fly had shot stingers from its butt and one of them had hit the elf. The mask he wore came loose and his expression was that of extreme pain. The blood vessels near the wound blackened, quickly spreading to the rest of his body.

“Tch! They are getting bolder!” The not-elf woman engaged the yellow fly monster at melee range but because her opponent could fly, it was difficult to land a hit.

The elves quickly gave treatment to their wounded comrade but the fly was relentless. It was about to attack another elf, but Boram stopped the monster by placing himself between them.

“We’ll help put down that filth!” Croix gave the monster a serving of fire Arte. It didn't do much damage because he was a Level 1 but it served as some distraction at least.

Well, it’s a classic development, as classic as it gets. Repelling the oversized insect should give us the ticket to the elven enclave. Heh. Futon, I’ll be borrowing your power, okay? ...Good boy. Counting on you.

Once again, lightning danced between Viers’ fingers. Any lightning he generated was thanks to his familiar, he only directed it.

Alfred wondered if he should make a move. The Rank 3 monster was the strongest diseased monster they had encountered thus far. Viers stopped him.

“No need to waste your strength on something like this.”

Alfred’s condition would deteriorate faster the more he fought. They agreed he should only act in a true emergency. Alfred chose to believe in his comrades and focused on the prince so he wouldn't be fatally harmed.

They knew they would fight diseased monsters so they had countermeasures before they set off. They also polished their strategies when dealing with the monsters along the way.

In this fight, Boram was especially motivated. His master had used thousands of Arte to open their path. He was useless before, but fighting was what he trained for, what he was made for. He would finish it without Master Avel spending an ounce of extra effort. He must be tired already.

Boram didn't know Viers thought it was good training, and the lightning was Futon’s. Viers only spent the energy to move his hand.

The little boy grabbed the fly before it flew away and threw it downwards as if it were an object a hundred times smaller. He landed above it and smashed it repeatedly using his hammer, Skull Basher, with the same fervor of a rocker boy destroying his electric guitar on stage.

“Uraaah!!”

Scratch that, a rocker boy on drugs fervor.

The elves were contributing with long-range attacks. Viers felt a bit odd that only the masked not-elf woman tried to engage the monster in close-range. The rest seemed to stay away. Their body language showed fear.

Fear? For just a Rank 3 monster? They were stronger, more skilled, more numerous, so why?

Naturally, the disease. Viers checked on Boram’s Unreality Field. Not a single instability. He kept his guard fully up even when attacking, good.

The yellow fly was in its death throes.

“That is enough, little friend, get away!” The not-elf woman said to Boram.

She and Boram jumped away as poison gas emitted from the new fly corpse. The grasses and trees around it withered. The elves used magic to contain the spread. After things slightly settled down, the elves approached Croix. He might have been the weakest, but he seemed to be the leader, so the elves spoke to him.

“We thank you for your aid against one of the Unclean. This is an extraordinary time for us but it will be our shame to send away those who aided us without a single speck of hospitality. You may enter Liapris.”

“Thank you, wise protectors of the forest. The monsters are a problem for us as well. It is my wish that we can find a solution to both our troubles together.”

The tension went down. The elves no longer aimed their arrows at them and removed their masks. There were no surprises here. They were elves. Their skin was fair, a bit taller than average humans. Their hair was golden, black, or silver.

Viers was similarly not surprised when the woman without the pointy ears showed that she was human. A familiar face. Viers let out a smile.

It was Jessica, the Hot Mom Tifa.

She didn't recognize Viers because she knew him as Kira and had a different face. Viers was Avel now. But he knew she would be here. The white card he gave her before they parted gave a signal that only Viers could pick up. She still had it on her.

“Come,” the leader of the elven border guards said. “The council of elders will speak to you.”

Croix and his party walked under the tree arch, towards the home of the elves. Passing the arch, Viers felt like he was passing through another barrier. This should be the main barrier of the elven enclave.

Not the best time to visit, I think. It is clear they are in the midst of an epidemic. Are they on lockdown like during Covid? Oh man, this brings bad memories…