Had he been standing, his torso would have been ripped clean off his body.

He tried to stand up with all of his nerves on edge, but there was no difficulty or impediment coming from the weary leather bag. It was as if it didn't weigh anything, to begin with.

He was scared to open it. But what else could he do? If he were to open it once he was outside the cell, his effort would become a joke if it glowed like that again. In the worst case, he would die if something came out of the bag. However, against his better thoughts, he couldn't save himself.

Damn... Mom did always say that curiosity of mine would get me killed.

He opened the bag and tossed it to a side, with closed eyes and a hand protecting his face. What did he think that would happen? Regardless of what the young farmer had imagined, perhaps a gruesome death, the universe's response was as mundane as the act itself.

"Ha... Ha... Hahaha..."

He had simply opened the bag, and didn't even manage to toss it far as it was still tied to his shoulder by the leather arms that held it. Now, beside him remained an open bag with a faint purple light coming from it's inside.

By... Am I really this stupid? Gods, I'm alive, but pull your sh*t together, man. Now... If I could just get a peek inside...

He picked the bone that he hadn't yet sharpened, and poked the bag from above. He pushed it from the sides and tried to lift the main pocket until he finally sighed and gave up.

If you're gonna be curious at least stop being a coward.

He took the bag again with his hands, but this time he simply and carelessly opened it.

"What the...?"

In front of his eyes, a world he had never seen extended into infinity, showered in the nebulous color of the most star-struck night sky. Deep shades of purple and black were all his eyes could see, and inside them, a million items floated like junk.

Oddly enough, as soon as he focused his sight he could see the item with total perfection, as if under a magnifying glass. And, when awestruck he went to grab for one, he was surprised to feel his head showered with information he had never read or heard before.

"So an infinite bag... That can also identify the items inside it if you touch them?... Well, even if that isn't what this is, that's as good as my supposition gets."

He was sweating, but now, his expression was one of astonishment and contemplation.

If this man had this and yet he's dead... I guess it must be true that he had chosen to die here. All of his riches and all of his life is inside this bag, was it? I'm starting to believe that could be true.

He looked down at his bruised wrist, recalling the ungodly strength that man had for how desecrated his body was. Was it because of an item inside this bag? If so, which one? Could he, if he managed to find it, get a grasp of its power?

But that item doesn't matter now. Forget about our damned, dirty old farm... I'll buy mother a castle with all of this! That is a nice dream to keep going for. However, if I want to make that a reality, I'll have to get out of here first.

He ruffled through the bag for a few seconds, skimming past the mountains of gold and silver, the different artifacts like relics, paintings, extremely fine clothing, and such precious items he had never had the chance to possess. His hand extended towards a particular item, one that seemed useful enough as a tool to escape.

He pulled from inside a small dagger and brought it to his sight to investigate.

"This blade... It's so ornate one would mistake it for a chandelier. Not that I've ever seen one like this..."

A black-hilt dagger came out, covered in markings that forged onto the grip, and seemed to make the shape of a coiled snake. Purple streaks of light shimmered across the dark blade, apparently coming from the embedded jewels that seemed to be molten onto the decoration.

Something that was easy to notice was how heavy it was. Normally, a common steel dagger would not be over a pound, but this one seemed to weight around seven or eight on his hand.

Besides being heavy, I'm no good with daggers... I always did pick a few things about the sword from dad, but this—

Swish!

"Woah!"

After that thought, the hilt exploded to the sides, the grip extended backward to touch his wrist, and the blade enlarged enough that it was almost a meter long.

Without losing any of its weight, Thom lost the ability to hold the weapon. The blade fell to the ground after almost breaking his hand, only leaving him to hold the grip.

"I... I had never held a sword this heavy!"

Although he was confused, the bag's other special feature immediately came to mind. He sighed, and holding the sword with the blade pointing down, he placed it again in the bag.

[Darkblade of Yorthand. Lord of Snakes Yorthand's weapon of choice. Although carrying a great power, Yorthand never parted ways with the meek blade, choosing it over many greater weapons. This blade carries the will of a fanatic and the soul of a proud Lord. It is known to change according to the user's desire.]

Telling me this much information... Not only the blade's detail, it seems oddly personal how the bag describes that Lord guy. But well, it says it changes depending on the user's whim. That's enough information.

He took the sword out and held it with both hands.

"I mean, I could still use it as a tool to foil the bars."

After twisting his lips at his own words, Thom placed the blade against one of the metallic cylinders with a victorious smile and pulled from the grip.

Clank!

However, what he thought would be the beginning of a long scraping journey ended in a second. With a single push, the blade passed through the bar like butter and followed to the next.

"Meek blade, the bag said..."

He made a second slash towards the top of the bars, and after balancing his feet not to trip, he pulled his body to slice at another one of the bars. They rolled on the ground with a sharp sound, and Thom, impressed, put the sword away into the bag.

"I'll make sure not to touch that one." He whispered.

Stepping outside of the cell, he finally managed to recover his breath. He grabbed his stomach churning with hunger, and sighed.

The door didn't seem locked. Why could that be? Thom walked towards it with a cautious glance, and when he was about to open it, he retracted.

Are those footsteps?

His blood froze— but there was no time to fear, only to hide. He looked around desperate, where could he? There was no way he wouldn't be found in such an open room.

Sh*t! There!

His sight fell on a box, and he quickly sprinted towards it and jumped over. On the other side, it was open and empty, as if they had been simply put there to make some decoration instead of utility. Lucky! He thought, and plunged inside it.

The door opened, and metallic footsteps ringed inside the room. It was a distinct sound that Thom had heard many times throughout his life, the sound of men clad in armor. And now, as it had done every time, it sent an eerie chill down his spine.

"Ahh, damn. Frank? Frank, why are you taking so long? Come here! Sh*te, the bars are broken, man. I swear we don't get paid enough for this..."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Always complaining, what is it? Don't tell me the prisoner—" the second man entering trough the door stopped. "Oh f*ck, the prisoner escaped."

"Hey! Isn't that there the old man we caught stealing a month ago?! His brains are sticking out man, what the hell?!"

"Oh gods, I knew it wasn't good when we got that sky-man in."

"He could already be out..." One of the men started mumbling. "But hell, if he goes out, surely the chief will square him right up. Let's take out the old man from the cell and report this."

The steps of the armored men started to feel closer and closer to the crates as they continued to talk, and sweat began to pour from Thom's forehead and neck.

Sh*t... I better take this out.

Thom reached for the Darkblade of Yorthand, and transformed it into a dagger as he pulled it out. He placed it beside his stomach, swallowing dry as he held his breath.

"Hey hey, what if he's hiding waiting for us to turn our back? Hehehe..."

"Haha... It would really be screwed up if that man was a coward enough..."

CRACK!

"To hide behind crates!"

The crates broke into pieces as the man's sword cleaved down, and Thom received a deep wound going down the side of his arm. He swallowed the pain and swiftly jumped to the other crate before the soldier could notice him.

"Tch. Moving crates won't do you any good. You're doing a really bad job hiding your aura, dirty murderer!"

The man jumped in front of the other crate, and raised his sword high—

Please, a sword!

The dagger transformed into a longsword in no time, and it split the wall of the crate in half as it skimmed past the soldier's leg.

"Wha—"

Splurt!

His leg was cut clean off, and the guard fell to the ground while in the midst of horrendous screams.

"I'm sorry!"

"My leg, my leeeeg!"

Thom crawled outside the box with his left arm limping and bloodied, eyes trembling as he observed the other guard looking at his mate in horror.

"Fr- Frank!"

The other guard unsheathed his sword, and shot towards Thom with a furious scream.

Damn, that's right, I suck at combat!

The sudden memory of his father hitting him in the chest with a wooden sword came to his eyes for a split second— and then it became a reality when a sword slashed past his chest and opened a wound across it.

"Damn!"

He tried to swerve to avoid it, but it was too late. The only thing he could do was to try and hit back.

The blade skimmed past the head of the guard, who followed up with a kick to Thom's gut. He spat out his air with a step backward, about to receive a second slash to the neck, when he knelt down.

"You—!"

Thom used the opportunity of the guard's missed hit and sprung up from the ground, with the little air he had, and pressed for the man's chest in a potent forward stockade—Only to hear the sound of bone breaking instead of the clashing of metal.

The blade danced in the air and then landed on the ground as it was knocked from Thom's hand. He felt a numbing pain coming from his arm and looked down to see his hand had been fractured by a hit of the soldier's boot.

"Ugck!"

He was stabbed on the arm and dragged towards the wall. The soldier snickered as he pulled out a dagger from his pocket, and said in a low voice:

"Filthy criminals like you shouldn't have toys like that."

"F*ck off!"

Thom reached into his bag and pulled up the first thing he could find to throw it on the man's face.

Splash!

"This...! Ack, ack...! Aaaaagh!"

The soldier started to walk back with his face drenched in some kind of viscous liquid, his screeches resounding throughout the whole room.

Thom checked his hand— it had been splashed, and it was rapidly burning.

[Acid of Arghaena. A common ingredient in the cooking of the Downdwellers. A cheap but flavorful seasoning, that can be also drunk by itself.]

Seasoning, is it?

"Kill me...! Kill me!"

The guard's skin melted off his flesh, as he tried to remove it with his hands, only to drench them as well and start melting all the same.

"Again, I'm sorry!"

Thom rushed to grab the sword from the ground, and then, with a quick whack, cut the screaming man's head clean off.

It fell down with a dull sound as the remaining flesh continued to burn. Thom felt his stomach about to give up once more, but he did his best to retract the feeling as he no longer had anything inside his stomach left to puke. When he looked back, he saw the man who's leg he had cut off, surrounded by a puddle of blood. His lifeless eyes were staring at him, completely blank, completely expressionless.

"Two men. I have killed... Two men."

He went to the door and closed it firmly. He sighed while pressing his back against the wall, and squirmed down to the floor.

Ha... I must look like sh*t. Runa would surely laugh about how I look, if not condemn what I just did.

He saw his bruised abdomen, his broken hand, his stab wounds and the slash across his chest, and sighed once again. I could use another one of those potions... He thought.

He put his hand inside the bag and searched for a while. Past the gold, the silver, the relics, the treasures and the paintings, he extended his hand. He reached for several vials and jars, pots, and other containers hoping they would have something of momentary value.

And then, between his fingers, he finally caught something of a familiar color and weight.

"Got it!"

He pulled his arm back while holding a vial filled with red liquid, and removed the lid. However, just when he was about to dump it inside his mouth, he gave it a second thought and stopped.

Wait...

He got the vial closer to the bag, and waited for it to inspect it. After a second, he heard a few words inside his head with his own voice, as if he was remembering something.

[Container of the Rose. The vial is filled with the purest of crimson potions, capable of healing the worst of physical wounds. Inside it floats the seed of the Heart, the most beautiful rose, which fed the forest for a hundred thousand years.]

"So a healing potion with food inside." His hungry stomach talked for him in a moment of mental unclearness.

He smiled and shrugged. He saw the small seed floating in the inside of the vial, looking extremely appealing to his eyes.

"Oh well."

He put it inside his mouth and didn't bother to bite the seed as it washed down with the liquid. After it had reached his stomach, a warm sensation of respite covered his body, and all of his wounds immediately closed. However, that wasn't all, as he felt his organs rearrange, his bones strengthen and fix, his spine crackle as he was pulled back, and even the calluses on his hands fading away.

"Wha..."

He had never felt this much vitality in his whole life. It was as if everything had started to work perfectly inside him, and even the tiredness shrouding his eyes had vanished.

And then, when he was starting to feel revitalized, another feeling took over.

It felt as if his body had turned inside out.

His soul seemed to separate from his body, and he was shot straight into nothingness. He shot past a million stars and into the depths of the darkest sky, being quickly swallowed by its beauty.

He was shot onto the other side, where the sun popped into existence, and the earth and the oceans were formed.

He saw the birth of life and it's extinction. Time over time, a hundred times he saw the end of life. He desperately lifted his eyes trying to look for an answer to where he was, but the only thing he saw was the torrential rain painted crimson by the ashes of the world.

What is...

However, between that dark-red world painted by death and adorned by chaos, a single rose started to sprout from the corpses of a million creatures. A rose that grew until it graced the clouds, and then kept rising even further.

And from its heart, a humanoid creature was born.

An androgynous child which blew life into the earth again, and put an end to that world's godless fate. Trough the continents and to the farthest reaches of the world, every and single piece of life knew no god, but the Heart, and the forest it created.

But mortals were foolish, and they struck down the heart of the forest to use its body for their own benefit. Yet the world didn't plummet into chaos, but another Heart was born from the remains of humanity.

And this, he saw it unfold in front of his eyes, five times over.

At the final chapter of the Rose's tragic story, it's Heart died once again at the hands of dragons, of Giants, and men. With the deep-bore pain, and a burning hatred for all they had given life onto, the heart regretfully decided it was time to let fate follow, and buried the legacy deep into the earth, for humanity to never possess it again.

All of its memories, all of its skills. Every last bit of power they had, they hid. Waiting for the end of the world, the forest fell into its final slumber.

The wind blew cold that day, and everything went dark.

Thom felt two hands on his back.

He turned and saw two humanoid figures standing there with saddened and deep smiles. Much like a young man and a small girl, but their faces fair and perfect, and their hairs like vines and leaves that hung from the trees.

"It seems you did it, fifth." The girl spoke up.

"I did..." The young man replied.

"Our legacy is now your own. The story of our forest is no longer ours. And we will no longer live within it. Slowly, we'll fade, as we should have always. Our spirits, they have been long due to the universe."

The girlish figure talked with a smile, and two more figures appeared by her side. Another one appeared beside the man referred as fifth.

"All of our power... We'll give it to you. So take good care of it. For our friends..."

The figures talked at the same time as melancholy dawned on them. Their faces slowly carved away into the air, and slowly...

"And our dear, loved sons."

... They faded to black.

Thom opened his eyes, and found himself in the cell room.

Surrounded by corpses, and only himself. He touched his face to find two streams of tears going down towards his cheeks and the odd feeling of having lost the memory of something extremely precious.

—

「The ultimate will of the Fifth Heart of the forest has been handed successfully. The repertoire of The Forest has now been inherited by the user.

[Skill Master] has been obtained. A divine skill passed down by the ungodly deity of Rumblound. The learning process of all skills contained inside The Forest's repertoire has been upgraded by 10,000%.

•As a consequence, you have also obtained the subordinate skill [Bookreading Guide]. Your skills and spells will be assigned a name and analyzed by the Guide. The Guide will also inform you of any significant update concerning your person while it regards the fifth Heart's will.

•As a consequence, you have also obtained the subordinate skill [Skill Sharing]. You may share a skill of grade A+ or lower with one that shares a profound link with you.

•As a consequence, you have also obtained the subordinate skill [Dissolve Sublevels]. The user may not take the sub-level grades [Novice] or [Apprentice] when obtaining a job-related skill. The body of the user shall be accommodated by The Forest's memories to fit it's most capable servants and qualify for the first level of the regarding skill.

The analysis of your current skills has also been completed, and listed below:

• Luckiest (Ultimate Grade)

• Swordsman Novice (Grade G)

• Farmer (Grade G)

The job [Swordsman Novice] has been deprecated. It has now been replaced with [Swordsman]. Control and precision greatly augmented. You may now access the skills of The Forests Swordsmen.

It will be a pleasure to accompany you and take forward the will of The Fifth. I am the Bookreading's Guide. I am Skill Master.」