Ovid was standing on a large cluster of green vegetation that felt particularly soft to his speed, between his toes, a few strands of tall grass managed to bypass the soles of his sandals. As it was ticklish, Ovid then changed into a set of leather shoes.

The Aeon forest was directly downstream of the city of Straton and its confluence, splitting it directly through the middle, all lands past the opposite bank of the river are controlled by the silver elves.

The river this part was particularly wide, and flowing awfully fast as well, with whirlpools and torrents appear everywhere in the water, hiding beneath it was countless beasts and monsters. It was a contrast as big as day and night against the tranquil and peaceful water in the city of Straton, one would simply find it too difficult to picture the two scenes are no more than a few dozen kilometres apart.

Many years ago, when Alexander’s empire was still expanding, he had ordered a massive bridge to be built over the river, while many of his soldiers were sent to suppress the monsters in the lake, eventually, a bridge was built. Unfortunately, the width of the river kept expanding, and while the beasts were still sealed, the bridge was now submerged under the muddy waters.

Seeing the few towers of the bridge still overlooking the river, half covered by the fog that formed over the torrent, a rare scene of harmony between nature and man could be seen. The towers looked as if they were guarding the stars, though it’s stone body was now eroded by time, it has now transcended into the heavens.

Watching this site on the patch of grass that sat on the banks of the river, Ovid felt a strange stirring of emotions.

He had seen many grand and magnificent sights in his previous life, but none seems as aloof as the broke watchtowers that still look over the bridge over hundreds of thousands of years. Even those temples and churches built atop the highest mountains cannot compare to this sight.

The only thing Ovid finds more striking would be the nebula and galaxies that light up the night sky in his world.

Cai Hua, who had seen far too many places in his life, showed little interest at the sight “You should first become an immortal.”

Why would one become an immortal? So they can enjoy the countless joys life can give them.

---

Cai Hua had already brought Ovid to the elven side of the forest, so there was no need to cross the river through a makeshift ferry, or what remains of the bridge. Still, Cai Hua brought attention to the bridge, pointing his hand toward a small hole on the side, he said, “That whole was made by a Gorgon.”

Ovid was not familiar with the tales of the Juliana Empire, and Cai Hua was just reciting what he had read from books. But Anna, as someone both educated, and a gossiper was familiar with the monster. The old lady that sold cabbages on the market square had told her that Gorgons were especially vicious, and liked to eat humans, both men and women, young and old; the old lady that sold her fish meanwhile told Anna that Gorgons especially liked eating virgin girls and take their beauty.

As creatures that had reached the level of a saint, it was impossible for the army to kill them even with Alexander present. During the war between the old and new empire, one of the Gorgons broke free. When Julia had heard of this, she had sent Martha to personally suppress the monster.

After Ovid greeted Irene, who would tap her fur shoes against the river an occasionally at seemingly random pace, he started to walk past the big and green trees that lived everywhere in the Aeon forest. The forest was very hot and humid, but Ovid’s body acted like a pot of cold water, sweating not a single drop of heat.

Every few steps Ovid walked, the rustling sound of the nearby sound could be heard particularly clearly.

As Cai Hua and Irene had both concealed their presence, Ovid appeared to these creatures completely alone, combined with the silver pearl in Ovid’s body that contained what he described as dark energy and dark matter, he was especially attractive to these monsters.

If not for the trees that blocked Ovid’s vision, he would see that within a radius of a few kilometres, contained the crouching figures countless monsters. As if Ovid was an object was a great gravitational pull, the creatures gradually encircled the person. Every step he took, the beasts would similarly take a step in that direction, more frightening, was that despite the numbers, only the sound of water could be heard.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

With a silence equal to the beasts, the naked blade appeared in Ovid’s hands.

Ovid held the blade by his side, straightening his back so that he appeared more towering than the trees, he looked at the space infront of him.

The vivid green leaves of the tree started to shake before the entire tree fiercely swung through the air.

One of the branches scratched Ovid’s face, leaving a faint red mark. Now staring past the tree, Ovid pushed the blade into the tree, passing its’ hard body, he twisted the blade.

There was nothing behind the tree, so where was this blade directed at?

The next movement, Ovid pivoted the blade in his hand, and the tree infront of he was cleanly sliced through.

Cai Hua said Ovid’s preception was very good, so he naturally was not stabbing the tree, but the monster causing the leaves to hustle.

The corpse of a Dyrad was at the end of Ovid’s blade, its warm blood tricking down the blade.

The Dryad’s body was completely infused with the tree, itself, harder than the stone Ovid had failed to slash through two months ago.

A thought appeared in Ovid’s head. Although the Dryad seemed so similar to a person, why did he feel no disgust seeing the sword pierce through its chest?

However, he did not dwell on this thought for long, as killing the Dyrad was not the end, but the beginning.

The entire forest shook, the roots pulling away from the damp soil. Accompanied by tempting hisses of anger, hundreds of bare bodies emerged from the heart of their respective trees, their naked feet aligned upon the tall grass.

Each of these exposed figures was one Dryad.

Each of their skin was harder than the toughest of stone.

The weak and fragile figure holding the blade, no matter how straight he stood, seemed insignificant in comparison.

The host of the Dryad, the Steel Bark Tree, was an extremely desired material is not only the continent but the world at large. This was because it’s could be made into the finest furniture, and would only decay after an eon has passed. The seemingly dark and glossy bark was abnormally tough. Not to mention normal weapons, even the strike of a priest would find it hard to pierce through such skin.

As the Southern lands continued to become colonized by humans, the Steel Bark Tree began to migrate past the great and muddy river, forming a colony that spans the size of a city. Only the elves, with their amiable relationship among nature, could pass through this forest.

It was no wonder, that in the hundreds of thousands of years the empire had existed for, that no attempt to fully colonize the Aeon forest had been made.

Legends say that although the Dryads take human form, they could never gain proper sentience in the same manner as humans or elves. Rather, only through absorbing mana for an untold amount of time, could they gain intelligence.

There was also, another way. To directly consume human flesh. This was probably the reason why they had been the first to attack Ovid in the forest.

As the Dryads conglomerate, their body formed a wall of flesh that spanned from Ovid to the river, progressing towards him.

The attack he had made was based on the calculation and preception of the weakest point of the Dryad. With only had an ordinary sword in his hand, even if he could battle for a whole day, his mana is not sufficient to find the weak point of each Dryad.

As a scientist, the solution to Ovid’s problem was rather simple. Since he could not predict each one of them, he would just make an educated guess.

As the Dryads attacked, they gave off wicked laughter. Ovid calmly gazed at them and prepared his blade once more, this time, however, he attacked without any moment of pause.

Ovid’s actions were very methodical, almost to the degree of robotic, possessing not a single movement that would waste energy.

The first time he attacked the Dryads, he struck the creature’s heart, but as that failed, he percieved the mana and attacked the area between the Dryad’s eyes.

The fifth time he attacked the Dryads, he made two jabs at the creature’s heart and brow but failed once again. Again, he analysed the creature and pierced through its stomach.

Afterwards, each time Ovid struck with his sword, it was made with three quick jabs at three different locations, an exact duplicate of the fifth time without the slighest difference.

Except for the sound of brustling leaves and blood spilling onto the dark soil, no sounds existed in the forest.

The blade of steel made countless strikes, soaring through the air, before landing on the Dryad’s body.

The Dryad’s skin, made from the essence of the steel bark tree, upon meeting with the ordinary piece of metal, would sprew forth red liquid, dripping onto Ovid’s red stola.

Without even checking if the Dryad had died, Ovid created wounds on their body with surgical precision. Without the creature being aware of it, they had died in a cynical manner, returning back to the earth.

When their confused and sinister faces turned into dust, entire trees began to decay, following in the footsteps of their manifestation, the vibrant and green leaves scattered into the air, leaving its wooden body bare.

While it had lost the mana it had gathered, in another thousand years, another Dryad would manifest from the tree once more.

Ovid stepped from one part of the wall to another, his expression changed very little, appearing expressionless, unafraid and unawed, gradually turning duller as the blood on his blade with reach his hand, before turning to dust. He began to thrust his sword even faster, the movement causing his arms to blur, rendering it completely unpredictable.

The Dryads never even managed to hand a single strike on Ovid as they were reduced to fertiliser, the smell of their remains like that of decaying excrement, extremely strong and unpleasant.

When the night sky could be seen through the branches of the trees, a gentle wind breezed through the tall grass, removing the smell into the foggy mist above the river.

Ovid could only maintain such a calm state of mind with the presence of a saint and an immortal. But even with the knowledge that he would not be devoured by the Dryads, his casual jab with the blade was truly shocking!

Of course, even though his jabs with the blade was very casual, it was in reality, the most exhausting thing he had experienced.

Worse still, this experience had not ended.

The bare trees once more began to shake, though the leaves no longer created any rustles, an indescribable event was happening in the forest.

No longer concealed by the leaves of the forest, the figure of countless monsters charged out like a burst of material from a star.