Chapter 11: Mutation in the Misty Forest

The dense fog of the Mist Forest has thickened of late, and at night, strange laughter echoes from within—it sounds like the Forest Witches, yet somehow, it is not quite the same.

Avia looked at Wang Yu, who wore a pained expression, and voiced her mounting doubts.

Yes, the people in this small village say that is exactly the situation; fortunately, there is a chapel here.

For now, there seems to be no major trouble inside the forest, and the days remain much as they always were, though the Forest Witches are clearly more active than before.

As for the normal forest creatures, the hunters have been catching far fewer of them.

Standing at the village entrance, Wang Yu shared the news he had gathered, scratching his head in frustration; they were so close to their destination, only to be met with such an unforeseen turn of events.

They had arrived this morning at this nameless hamlet near the Mist Forest, a type of settlement common enough in these lands.

Those unwilling or unable to attach themselves to a local lord often chose a piece of ungranted land to settle, and the kingdom would not bother with such people.

Though nominally still subjects of the realm, in practice, they were neither taxed nor provided with protection.

This came as a surprise to Wang Yu; the world was vast, and his own experience remained far too limited.

He had expected a world of extreme exploitation of the lower classes, yet he found this place surprisingly tolerant.

Though, upon reflection, it made sense; driving people who were honest, even if untaxed, into the life of a bandit was hardly a wise choice.

To avoid a situation like the one with Obi-Wan’s group, who had turned a village into a den of thieves, Wang Yu had Torrent and Avia wait at the entrance while he went in to scout the situation.

On the way in, he met a middle-aged hunter who, seeing a stranger, was quite friendly and struck up a conversation.

It was through this exchange that Wang Yu learned of the strange recent changes in the Mist Forest.

Unlike adventurers, the villagers did not hope to find magical beasts to trade for coin.

They only wished to secure normal, fleshy animals to eat, and the Mist Forest, being largely free of monsters, was their preferred choice.

As long as one avoided entering during the misty twilight, there was generally little to fear.

The most threatening Forest Witches could usually be evaded, provided one’s luck was not too poor, even with those bird-like creatures with human faces hunting them.

Poisoning and the like could be treated with holy water from the village’s small chapel; all in all, life in this nameless village was not so bad.

Yet, for some unknown reason, the fog’s arrival had extended from the twilight hours into the night.

The twilight mist would persist, lingering well into the night before finally dissipating.

As time passed, the duration grew longer; now, the fog would hold until seven or eight in the evening, and it threatened to linger even later.

This left the hunters, accustomed to nocturnal pursuits, quite helpless, their hunting hours drastically reduced.

However, since a few had kept to their old habits and entered the forest after dusk, never to return, no one dared to complain anymore.

The Mist Forest was safe enough, but the key was to avoid anything involving the word "mist."

Once the mist was involved, getting lost became a common occurrence.

And in the Mist Forest, getting lost largely meant vanishing, with not even a corpse left to be found.

The reason it was only "largely" meant was due to one exception: the master of the small chapel.

A devout stranger who had once wandered deep into the fog, unaware of the forest’s true nature.

The stranger had been found at the edge of the woods, collapsed and unconscious, his clothes in tatters.

After being nursed back to health, he had established the small chapel, providing the villagers with holy water, simple sermons, and divine healing.

Wang Yu did not pry too deeply, for his destination already involved a chapel, so after gathering the general situation, he decided to consult this master about what he had encountered.

It is unexpected to face so many problems just as we are about to enter the forest and find your aunt; I wonder if entering the forest is still a good idea.

Wang Yu sighed helplessly, arms folded across his chest.

Yes, I hope everything goes smoothly. Stroking Torrent’s head, Avia’s tone was filled with worry and resignation.

Patting Avia’s shoulder to help her relax, he said, We should still ask the chapel master; we need the holy water, and it is a chance to learn more.

Wang Yu explained his plan.

Yes! Avia nodded.

Having reached an agreement, and wondering why Avia’s aunt would establish a school of magic in such a remote and peculiar forest, Wang Yu and Avia headed toward the village chapel.

The village was small, and the chapel was conspicuous; the houses were mostly wooden structures, weighed down by simple stones or paved with roughly cut bricks, the low-roofed buildings filling the hamlet.

The village was quite populated, and as they walked the path, they saw sun-darkened children running and playing, casting curious glances at the knight-errant and the young mage heading toward the chapel.

It was only curiosity, however; it seemed that to the villagers, outsiders were not unwelcome.

The adults they passed would offer a friendly smile before returning to their endless labor.

Compared to adventurers, these villagers lived more stable, if monotonous and busy, lives.

The chapel was the tallest building in the village, though it only boasted a steeple compared to the flat-roofed houses.

At the front of the steeple stood a small statue of the God of Light, only a few dozen centimeters tall.

It was indeed small for the size of the chapel, but considering the village’s wealth, it was a testament to the master’s piety.

As Wang Yu and Avia reached the simple entrance, a smiling village woman stepped out.

Her eyes were red, and tear tracks were still visible on her face; her wrinkles were etched with a trace of sorrow.

Yet, she wore a look of solace, as if she had just wept and found comfort in her soul.

The woman stepped out, turned back to bid the elder following her farewell.

With a choked voice, she thanked him repeatedly before wiping her tears and departing.

Wang Yu looked at the elder; he must be the master of this chapel, a devout follower of the God of Light.

The old man was in high spirits, his eyes bright, his frame draped in a clean, wide priest’s robe.

Though his form was obscured, the exposed parts showed he was well-exercised, his body still sturdy.

Noticing the two approaching, the priest offered a friendly smile, his left hand behind his back, his right drawing a circle in the air—the standard greeting of the Church of Light.

Wang Yu and Avia returned the gesture with a polite, kingdom-standard bow.

Is there anything you need help with, travelers? The old priest had lived in the village from youth to old age; he knew every child’s name and birth date.

He knew at a glance that Wang Yu and Avia were outsiders.

Yes, Father, we are preparing to enter the Mist Forest, and we require holy water for protection against poison and curses.

Also, if you would be so kind, could you tell us something of the conditions within the forest? This recent anomaly has us worried. Wang Yu stated his request.

Is that so? But recently, we here... The priest looked troubled, as if it were difficult to speak, which made Wang Yu fear the worst.

Hm? ...Well... if you truly need it, I can provide holy water, though my stores are low.

The villagers need it daily, so I cannot give you much, but I am happy to share what I know of the Mist Forest. Come, both of you, inside...

The priest’s tone shifted abruptly; though still gentle and kind, he no longer seemed troubled, but rather eager to provide the water.

This sudden reversal left Wang Yu startled—what was this? Was he changing his mind too quickly? Still, since the priest was willing to help, Wang Yu was happy to accept.

Thank you, Father; both the water and the information will be a great help.

It is nothing, do not mention it; come inside. The priest led them into the chapel.

As they entered, Wang Yu felt Avia suddenly press close to his back, her hand tapping gently against his gauntlet...

"Gloves? Has Avia noticed something? What sharp perception—gloves... the Blade of Night?"

Wang Yu noted Avia’s movements, his thoughts spiraling as the priest’s sudden shift in demeanor left him baffled.

Avia’s keen observation also brought this subtle detail into sharp focus for Wang Yu.

Previously, the priest had maintained the mask of a kindly, smiling elder.

His attitude had been that of a man greeting ordinary believers or villagers—warm and full of goodwill.

Yet, the moment he glanced at Wang Yu’s gauntlets, he had become proactive, enthusiastically ushering them inside.

"Is it malice? No, I can't detect it in his expression, nor can I put my finger on it, and this place is certainly a quintessential church of the Church of Light."

"Logically, there is a ritualistic link to the God of Light; how could such a place harbor evil?"

Wang Yu maintained his most practiced expression—a stiff, unchanging smile, though to any normal person, the rigidity would be imperceptible—while he pondered.

He had some knowledge of this world’s deities and religions, and he had to admit they were far superior to those in the novels he once read.

The gods were likely real; one should not judge a heart by its intentions, nor a religion by its flaws.

Take the Church of Light, for instance: regardless of their core theology, the deeds they performed were undeniably virtuous.

Distributing food to the starving and freezing was not merely a gesture; it was paid for from the church’s own coffers.

They provided free divine healing for the impoverished and offered sanctified water with purifying properties at nominal prices.

Then there were the Paladins, the guardians of the faith; Wang Yu held these muscle-bound giants in even higher regard than the clerics.

They spontaneously rebuilt homes for disaster victims and shielded the common folk from bandits.

When the nation faced foreign foes, they transformed into fierce warriors, swinging their holy hammers on the battlefield to smash the wretched invaders into unrecognizable heaps.

If nothing else, the Church of Light was a good institution, and faith in the God of Light truly granted power.

As long as one believed with a sincere heart and followed the doctrine, one could receive the blessing of divine arts, though talent, of course, played a role.

Thus, Wang Yu reasoned that the God of Light likely existed; gods were, in fact, real.

He himself was not religious, but he wasn't opposed to it—what was the difference between worshiping a god and serving a gang leader?

A boss gave you power and money; why would a god be any different?

Either way, you followed them, they gave you benefits, and perhaps the terms with a god were even better.

To embrace atheism in a world with gods was sheer stupidity, and Wang Yu had no desire to make a fool of himself; he accepted that gods existed here.

However, he was too insignificant to ponder such profound matters, so he let it be, intending to verify things once he grew stronger.

All in all, considering the followers of the Church of Light were incapable of subjective evil, there seemed to be nothing to worry about.

After all, it was hard not to feel favorably toward a church that would carry a heretic—someone whose beliefs were the polar opposite of their own—across the land to find salvation.

So, Wang Yu’s impression of the Church of Light remained excellent; whatever one might say of other sects, he recognized this one.

With that settled, Wang Yu cast aside his misgivings and followed the old priest into the chapel.

There was no luxury here; the style was stark and simple.

Three or four rows of clean, tidy wooden benches were enough for the few villagers who attended sermons.

Looking around, though humble—the most valuable item being the stained glass behind the central statue—the chapel possessed a genuine sense of sanctity and solemnity.

The old priest led them from the main hall through a small door into his private quarters, which were equally austere.

A small statue, a cabinet beneath it, a bed, a table, and a few chairs—it was clear the priest lived a life of extreme simplicity, with few material needs.

Inviting them to sit, the priest walked to the cabinet, opened it, and retrieved a bottle roughly the size of a water canteen.

He hesitated, then pulled out a larger one, twice the size of the first, before returning the smaller one and placing the large bottle before Wang Yu.

With an apologetic tone, the priest said, "Holy water is in short supply lately; this is all I can offer for now. I hope it suffices."

Looking at the massive bottle, Avia remained impassive, but Wang Yu’s eyelids twitched.

"Suffices?"

Was this man serious? Dammit, whenever he and the old knight went adventuring, they only ever got about 50ml, and that lasted a long time.

This bottle held nearly a liter. What exactly was going on in the Misty Forest, and did this "Blade of Night" carry that much weight?

Wang Yu didn't know what to say, so he accepted it, though one question remained.

He knew that holy water wasn't exactly difficult to produce.

It was simply the infusion of divine light into pure water, granting it natural purifying properties.

It was highly effective for detoxification and cleansing.

Though daily production was limited, it could be stored for years without losing its potency.

He didn't know the priest’s skill level, but in a small village, demand shouldn't be high enough to deplete a stockpile built over many years.

Why would it be in short supply now? Wang Yu asked directly.

"Ah, that relates to what I must tell you. You asked about the recent anomalies and what I encountered in the Misty Forest, didn't you?"

"What I mean to say is, the dense fog here... it severs my connection to the God of Light."

The old priest remained kindly, yet his voice carried a weight that was difficult to discern.