Note: There is some nudity in this chapter. Not to be distasteful but to properly depict the significance of the scenario.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Mother of the Forest

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URGENT QUEST: Save the Master, Save the World! UPDATED QUEST DETAILS: The master of the Coven of Stargazers has been possessed by the corrupted spirit of the Red Forest. Free her from possession by exorcising the spirit whose warped mind has created an imbalance in the nature of the woodland realm.

“Alright, I’ll say it, this quest system’s mighty intuitive.” Chris was looking at the blue window floating mere feet from his face. “We didn’t make it this way, did we?”

QUEST REWARD: Earn the loyalty of the [Coven of Stargazers], ensuring that the great undertaking will have enough summoners to begin alpha testing procedures], [Earn the loyalty of the [Flametail Tribe], forming a new alliance with a powerful force inside the Red Forest.], [Gain control of the dungeon [Red Ruin].], [Chance to earn a rare job license with the help of the [Flametail Tribe].]

“Īe, īe,” Hajime waved his hand in front of his face. “All we did was fine-tune what the Loom can already do.”

“Making sure our people could understand its interface. Everything else is the Loom’s doing,” Bridget chimed in.

BONUS QUEST DETAILS: Rescue the seven surviving members of the [Coven of Stargazers] under the spirit’s thrall to earn better rewards.

Rowan looked curiously at the screen, “‘Tis a strange sort of sorcery with insight to rival even She Who Knows.”

ALERT! Rewards will lessen with each Stargazer who dies. You risk losing the loyalty of the coven if all seven are killed during the rescue.

Ravi, whom the others had shared the notification with, asked, “What do you think it says about the one from whose mind this system was born?”

All gazes drifted to the prince.

“You’re all looking at the wrong person… As Hajime calls it, I’m also,” his face turned contemplative for a second, “a noob when it comes to the Loom.”

Chuckles and giggles spread around the party, briefly lighting up the gloomy atmosphere permeating the chamber.

Of course, neither Scarfang nor Kazem could relate to the conversation, but they were surprisingly patient in waiting for the banter to die down before they chose to interrupt.

“Are you going to where Mother waits?” Scarfang asked.

Bram nodded. “Will you join us?”

Scarfang shook his head. “We would become enemies once again should Mother will it… Better that we stay behind and—”

‘Boom!’

The hall shook violently, causing bits of debris to fall on the party’s heads. When the shaking stopped, wary gazes turned toward the staircase.

Just in time, a tall woman with reddish skin and braided hair arrived from below. Her young face was flushed, her amber eyes wide and anxious, when she yelled, “Enemies at the entrance!”

“I expected them sooner…” With a low growl escaping his lips, Scarfang rose to his full height. “They took too long to regain their nerve.”

Bram stood to his full height too, and, though not as large as Scarfang, the prince still cut an impressive figure standing there with his wide shoulders and dark silhouette set against the harsh light of the hearth burning behind him.

“Greed can give even a man as cowardly as Alaric von Galen a bit of courage…” Bram’s right hand balled into a fist. “They think they’re here to plunder treasure, but they don’t know what they’re walking into.”

“We will show them,” Scarfang promised.

“Aye,” Bram agreed.

The prince made to step forward, but the wearg leader stopped him.

“My tribe will see to our visitors. Your task lies further in…”

“Can you manage?”

“We may have been at a disadvantage outside,” Scarfang raised his hand, and sharp, inch-long nails popped out of his fingers, “but inside the temple, there are no skyships to attack us from above.”

“We’ll deal with the spirit for you.”

“If you can free us of Mother’s collar, then we can discuss an alliance.”

Once more, Bram marveled at how intuitive the Loom was because it had already foreseen how the Flametail tribe would react should their quest be successful.

“Fair warning… Alaric von Galen may be a fool, but his soldiers aren’t.”

Scarfang and Bram eyed each other, and though neither man had cause to trust the other, a look of faith passed between them. With this silent pact made, the wearg leader hurried down the staircase, and all his tribe followed.

“I pity the idiots that have to go up against that fella,” Chris thought aloud.

“Hai,” Hajime agreed, his gaze wary.

That wary gaze of Hajime’s drifted to the far side of the chamber where another arch could be found. Two bowed trees served as an awning for an entryway that was little more than a hole large enough for Bram to fit through.

“It’s our turn next…” Hajime let out a breath. “We can do this.”

He glanced sideways at Bram.

“We can do this,” Hajime repeated, sounding less certain now. “Right?”

Despite the hearth warming their bodies, simply staring into that hole at the end of the chamber made him shiver. He couldn’t help it. A malevolence leaked out of that hole like an ill wind on a mountaintop that even the goddess’ hearth couldn’t fully banish.

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“We will,” Bram assured him.

“It’s do-or-die time… We’re very familiar with those,” Bridget chimed in. “Isn’t that right, boys?”

“Crunch time’s how we roll,” Chris chuckled.

Hajime sighed. “Please don’t remind me, Bridget-san…”

While the three otherworlders relieved their tension through recollections of painful memories, the prince turned to Ravi and Kazem.

“Will you be joining the fight?”

“I will,” Ravi answered, glancing sideways at his fellow sorcerer and adding, “but Kazem won’t.”

The Damascan bowed his head. “Like the weargs, I too cannot escape Mother’s influence…but I can help give you the time you need to save my coven.”

He clasped hands with Bram.

“Save them,” Kazem pleaded.

With his partings given, the old sorcerer turned his back on the party and began limping down the staircase to help the Flametail tribe fight against the intruders.

Bram watched the Damascan go with a furrowed brow.

“Your coven were fools to think they could stop the coming conflict,” he told Ravi. “Even without the unrest in Rhyneland, there’s never been a game of succession that hasn’t been bloody…”

“We realized it too, the reason for our visions… Yet we still chose to try and do something about it… If that makes us fools, then…” Ravi looked determinedly at Bram. “I would rather be one among fools than a man who does nothing while knowing the tragedy that’s coming.”

Bram laughed. He couldn’t help it.

“Me too,” he said, still chuckling. He let the laughter pass before adding, “Let’s go prove your coven was right to try.”

Ravi bowed his head. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t just the vice master. Everyone was encouraged by the prince’s words because they knew he meant it. And, with determination, they followed Bram into the hole leading deeper into the Red Ruins.

The trip down the narrow passage was quick, though even with the calming aroma wafting out of the sage torches, a feeling of trepidation still washed over them. Except for Rowan, they were all visibly nervous. They knew what lay ahead, a creature that Hajime dubbed a ‘Dungeon Boss.’

“She used the Stargazers’ fear of possibility to manipulate their actions, drawing them to her like moths to a flame so they would set her free… This spirit is a devious one,” Rowan concluded. “I cannot help but admire her. She has…”

She tapped Chris on the shoulder.

“What do you call it again?”

“Cojones,” the Texan answered.

“Spunk?” Bridget chimed in.

“Guts,” Hajime added.

“Yes, she has all of that,” Rowan agreed.

“Um,” Hajime glanced sideways, “you sound like you know her, Rowan-sama.”

“I do now. So do you.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve already heard her tale… Don’t you remember?”

“W-When?”

“From the song…Loveless.”

“Eh…?” Hajime recalled the song he’d heard on Ravi’s sonusgraph a week ago; the one about the nymph who’d been loved by a goddess who later spurned her after she’d been raped by that goddess’ husband, another god who’d been jealous of his wife’s lover. “Ee~~eh?!”

“Wait a minute,” Bridget, while ignoring Hajime’s outburst, raised her hand to ask, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“The old sorcerer told us the spirit’s tale,” Rowan reminded her. “‘Tis the same story as the one in the song.”

Bridget’s face flashed with sudden realization. “If that’s true, then the goddess in the story would be Brigid.”

Considering who this temple belonged to, her guess was likely true.

“But who was Brigid’s husband?” she asked.

“Arawn, God of the Wilds and the Hunt,” Ravi answered from his spot at the rear.

“Also known as the Father of Weargs,” Bram weighed in.

“Then…was Arawn the one who sent the Flametail tribe’s ancestors to guard the Red Ruin?” Bridget asked.

“Naturally. Arawn is the pettiest of the gods,” Rowan scoffed, adding, “It wouldn’t be enough for that nasty little fawn to violate the nymph who stole his wife’s heart. He would have wanted to keep her imprisoned in this temple where their love bloomed, turning it from a place of fond memories into a prison of misery and betrayal…”

“From how they speak of her, the connection between the nymph and Scarfang’s tribe seems deeper than a prisoner and her jailors,” Bram added.

Rowan nodded. “More than likely, these weargs’ ancestors are the tainted fruit born from Arawn ravishing the nymph.”

“Sweet Christmas…” Chris, who’d led the way this time, cut down a thick group of vines hanging down from the wall to block their way. “No wonder their mother went all cuckoo.”

No one said it aloud, but they were all beginning to sympathize with the nymph who’d become the deranged mother of the Red Ruin, although no amount of sympathy would sway their hand. The quest rewards were just too valuable. Besides…

“It would be mercy to put her out of her misery,” Bram insisted.

“Yes,” Rowan replied darkly.

“Can you separate the nymph’s spirit from…” Bram’s gaze drifted to Ravi. “What was your master’s name again?”

“Wilhelmina Weiss…our Master Mina,” Ravi answered just before he repeated Bram’s question to Rowan. “Is it possible to save her…?”

“I could perform an exorcism…though weakened as I am, it will require my full attention,” she answered.

“So, we can’t expect you to one-shot Mother for us,” Bridget guessed.

“You don’t need me,” Rowan assured her. “You have all shown excellent growth during this adventure. A mad nymph shouldn’t prove too difficult a challenge.”

She flashed her companions with an impish smile.

“You can always come back if you die. Indeed, it might be better if one of you did die. Then we could begin studying the aftereffects of an Earther dying on Aarde,” she teased.

“Rowan-sama…” Hajime’s grip tightened on his wand. “I’m not planning on dying today.”

“Nor I.” As he said this, Bram’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his longsword. “We’re here. Be vigilant…”

The path cleared ahead of them, sending the party into a second hall that was less than half the size of the earlier one. They didn’t need another ‘Sunlight’ spell here. There was enough light filtering in through the cracks in the ceiling for them to see.

Twin rows of tall red pines dominated the rectangular space, their tips brushing against the vaulted ceiling whose fresco depicting a goddess’ achievements with a hammer and thread was barely recognizable. Between these rows of pines was a carpet of moss and fallen leaves leading to the end of the hall where a red pine stood. One so large its top broke past the ceiling, through the temple’s roof, and into the open air beyond.

The red pine’s roots were abnormally thick and gnarly. They spread out like long tentacles snaking across the stone floor. Lounging on these roots, with their naked flesh exposed to the elements, were seven young men and women, each one looking no older than Bram.

Emotion filled Ravi’s voice when he spoke. “What depravity has been done to them…?”

The young sorcerers all shared the same expression of bliss.

Bridget’s brow knotted together. “It looks like they’ve been drugged.”

Bram didn’t think she was wrong this time either.

For the prince, the sight of these young sorcerers reminded him of the seedy drug dens in the capital that he used to frequent. He’d never partaken of the ‘Milk of the Poppy’ himself for he only used such dens as places to secretly meet with the masters who trained him in his martial studies, but Bram had never forgotten the serene faces of those drug-addled youths who’d wasted away their time and lives in pursuit of false happiness.

Surprisingly, apart from their dull expressions, the young sorcerers seemed unharmed. With their bodies out in full display, Bram could see no sign of malnutrition. It made him wonder about what ‘Mother’ could have been feeding them.

A moment later, he would know the answer to his question.

Glancing to his right, the prince noticed something odd at the base of the red pine closest to him. The tree had grown out of something lying on the ground. It took him a second more to realize that this ‘something’ was someone’s corpse. More importantly, this corpse seemed freshly made. It also wore the same leather jacket worn by von Galen’s soldiers. There wasn’t just one corpse either. Nor did the dead only lie underneath the pines. There were many corpses in various states of decay scattered across this hall.

“It’s like a lion’s den,” Chris whispered.

Behind the Texan, Hajime bent over and vomited his rations onto the floor. Bridget was quick to help him straighten up though she also looked paler than usual.

That’s when the laughter started. Unlike Rowan’s playful giggle, this was a malicious and contemptuous sound that brought all sorts of strange desires to the forefront of everyone’s minds.

The party’s gazes turned to the base of the tallest red pine. They saw nothing at first, but then, as if carried by a breeze, a host of leaves rose from the ground to form a shape that was both sensuous and otherworldly to all who saw her.

Her skin, unmarked by age or blemish was a pale green hue, though her long hair was of a similar shade to the canopy of red needles above. She had a handsome face; curved eyebrows over almond-shaped eyes possessed of an emerald glow, a short pointy nose, and dark green lips.

“Yōkai,” Hajime whispered in a tone that lacked the fear he’d had when he met Rowan.

He wasn’t the only one affected by her appearance. Regardless of gender, all of them felt a sudden burning desire while they looked at her. Even Rowan.

“Master Mina…” Ravi’s voice dripped with disbelief. “I-Is that truly you…?”

The nymph who sat on a thick root was tall with ample breasts nestling over a flat stomach. Her long, slender legs were parted in a rather vulgar way, easily revealing her womanhood to her visitors.

“I think she’s, um,” Chris cleared his throat, “um, trying to seduce us…”

The nymph bit her lower lip while she smiled, and the party couldn’t help wanting to smile back. Surprisingly, only Bram seemed unfazed.

Inwardly, his desire for this wanton creature was at war with the simmering rage ever-present at the edge of his consciousness which he’d often hidden underneath the guise of a fool. It was an anger that refused to bend even in the presence of such carnal desire. Though perhaps it helped that Bram seemed already beholden to another. He wasn’t certain. He only knew that this nymph couldn’t hold a candle to the redhead standing at his side. More than his rage, it was his thoughts of Rowan that kept the nymph from mesmerizing him.

As if she heard his thoughts, Rowan laughed out loud. This caused the nymph’s smile to waver.

“Go on, My Prince.” She pressed her hand against his back and pushed him gently forward. “Show her that there are mortals on Aarde who aren’t crushed by the weight of destiny’s boot.”

With her encouragement, Bram strode forward and said, “Spirit of the Forest — Mother — we’ve come to bargain.”