[V15C14] Deep Within the Scary Forest

This happened in the midst of the Gluttonous Zoe incident, when Raul and Cyril were searching for information in the Forbidden Archives.

Raul was compiling diagrams into a document when he suddenly murmured, “Hey, Cyril.”

“What is it?” Cyril asked, pausing his work to look at Raul from the other side of the table.

“You know how I act like a different person when I use the Rose Fortress…”

Raul kept his eyes pointed down at the diagram as he continued.

“Do you think it’s because of some kind of mental interference magic…?”

—— “If you find yourself unable to go all out… then you must simply ‘become’ the First Thorn Witch.”

That was how his great-grandmother and the elders of House Roseberg raised him.

Raul had assumed this was a sort of self-suggestion, a psychological effect to reduce his inhibitions, and nothing more than that. Or rather, he had deliberately avoided thinking too hard about it.

But ever since his duel with Cyril in the Roseberg forest, he began having doubts.

“Raul,” Cyril said, glancing at the black ring on his right middle finger. “You went back to normal when Sophocles’s barrier cut off the flow of magic.”

“…Indeed,” Sophocles followed.

“In which case, it’s reasonable to assume you were under the influence of a spell.”

This was as good as proof. Clearly, something had been done to him.

(Did my grandmothers do it? Or maybe…)

Raul flashed back to a memory from over ten years ago.

＊　＊　＊

Raul had been around ten years old at the time. He found a family tree in the study and asked Melissa about it.

“Hey, Sis. There’s something weird about our family tree.”

“What?”

“Look here. These two are supposed to be mother and daughter, but it says they’re sisters with a big age gap. Also here, here, and here. The husband is listed ‘Unknown’, but it’s supposed to be Grandfather Jonas.”

As Raul pointed out all of his doubts, Melissa scrunched her freckled face in irritation.

“Well, of course,” Melissa said, letting out a sigh. “That’s the version of the family tree we show to outsiders.”

“…Outsiders?”

“House Roseberg has been serving the royal family since the time of the Second Thorn Witch. We have to keep up appearances.”

“…?”

“If you still don’t get it, then just forget about it.”

The young Raul obeyed his big sister and stopped thinking about it.

Meanwhile, Melissa glanced at the family tree again and muttered to herself in disgust.

“…Ugh, it’s like I’m looking at a damn plant breeding chart.”

＊　＊　＊

Now an adult, Raul could understand the implications of the family tree.

The man named Raul Roseberg was created by selectively breeding the most suitable genes in order to recreate the First Thorn Witch.

This was more than just the work of his great-grandmother. It involved several generations of House Roseberg, and perhaps even the First Thorn Witch herself.

Raul now understood the truth. The Rose Fortress everyone praised him for was not a power he earned for himself.

(…I have this power because the First Thorn Witch willed it.)

Raul returned his quill to the inkwell.

“You’ve gotta return the things you borrow from other people, right Cyril?”

“Raul.”

When Cyril called his name, Raul flinched a little. He had been averting his eyes downwards the entire time.

Raul looked up to see Cyril watching him with a stern expression.

“Do not seek comfort in my approval for something you’ve already decided for yourself.”

A very Cyril-like statement. He had always hated lies and half-truths.

And he was correct. Raul had been hoping to get Cyril’s approval. He wanted someone to nod and tell him he was on the right path.

Raul leaned his elbows on the desk and ruffled his bangs with a wry smile.

“Cyril, you’re so strict…”

“You’ve already reached a conclusion, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if I approve or not. Just follow your heart. If I think you’re veering off track, then I’ll stop you with everything I’ve got.”

Those words were worth more to Raul than any nod of approval.

Raul grinned, swinging his legs back and forth on the chair.

“If I ever hurt people like the First Thorn Witch… Can you punch me in the face and stop me?”

“Very well,” Cyril nodded with utmost seriousness, “But don’t come crying to me if I knock your teeth out.”

Hearing that, the gold and white weasels who had been tickling each other with the quill feathers interjected.

“Cyril doesn’t have the strength for that.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

With the weasels pointing out his lack of muscle, Cyril pouted his lips in annoyance.

Then, he snatched the quills from the weasels and raised his voice.

“Enough chatter! We need to focus on our job!”

“Okay!” replied the weasels and Raul in unison.

＊　＊　＊

Back in the present, Raul was trapped in ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’, a tome of the Fifth Forbidden Section. He was accompanied by pouting Sophocles and the crying Monica.

Sophocles had taken over Cyril’s body because this was an emergency, and Cyril couldn’t move while unconscious. The artifact was not acting out of malice.

(And yet… even knowing that… it still terrifies me.)

The terror of having your body taken over and being made to hurt people was something Raul knew all too well.

That’s why he was so angry at Sophocles.

The artifact had used Cyril’s body to insult Monica and make her cry. How would Cyril feel about this once he woke up?

Raul did not want to see friends hurting each other.

(And more than that, this whole situation…)

Separate from his frustration at Sophocles, Raul had felt a creeping sense of dread ever since entering ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’.

(This is something I probably can’t consult Sophocles about.)

When Sophocles tried to explain the monster in the bookshelf, he had made the unnatural gesture of placing a hand on his forehead, as if enduring a headache.

The Key of Knowledge Sophocles was an ancient artifact and the guardian of the Forbidden Archives, but limitations were placed on his access to certain knowledge. This was likely one such instance.

The monster in the bookshelf was very similar to an ancient artifact, and Sophocles’s knowledge of artifacts fell under the restrictions. He could not be relied on in this area.

(Monica doesn’t know the truth about ancient artifacts either, and besides, she’s still crying…)

Monica’s face was drenched with tears after Sophocles’s cruel words, so Raul did not feel comfortable burdening her with an ominous theory he wasn’t even sure about.

Neither Sophocles or Monica would be of help. Meanwhile, Cyril, the only one who knew the truth about artifacts, was still unconscious.

(Cyril… please wake up soon…)

Since childhood, Raul had been told stories about the bloody wars of the Old Era and the brutal deeds of the First Thorn Witch.

When he saw the monster in the bookshelf and the true nature of ancient artifacts, the thought occurred to him.

…The ruthless people of the Old Era used any means to accomplish their goals, no matter how cruel.

That terrified Raul to his core.

Raul did his best to hold back his anger and fear, and continued walking side-by-side with Sophocles and Monica.

Eventually, they passed through a row of tall trees to find a small plant with white flowers.

Monica sniffled and murmured in a hoarse whisper.

“T-That’s… the second mana response…”

Monica’s detection spell had picked up three strong mana responses. The first was the daphne odora shrub, but the second seemed like a different species.

It was a shrub with outward-reaching branches and white-petaled flowers. Unlike the daphne odora’s clusters of small flowers, this shrub bore large flowers. Upon closer inspection, their fragrance was just as sweet.

“A gardenia,” Raul muttered, frowning as he paused to inspect the plant. “But the season is different…”

“Indeed,” Sophocles said with a nod.

Monica still looked confused. She was the only one who didn’t understand.

“The daphne odora blooms from late winter to early spring,” Sophocles explained. “While the gardenia blooms in early summer.”

“The same goes for the other plants. The first area felt like spring, and this one feels like summer. Well, not that there’s much change in temperature.”

Raul recalled the path they took to reach the gardenia. If the circular garden was divided into twelve sections, it seemed to recreate the transition of the months.

If they continued moving counterclockwise, the next area should be autumn.

This was a man-made forest displaying the four seasons. Each section had fragrant flowers infused with powerful mana.

(Is their scent some sort of marker…? But for who? The maker of the forest should have no need for markers. Does that mean there’s someone else managing it…?)

Just as Raul had that thought, he noticed something on his leg. He looked down and widened his eyes.

His leg was caught in a vine with yellow roses. It looked like a common variety at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the difference became obvious.

——This was a rose that only bloomed in the Roseberg Forest.

A yellow rose for finding intruders and chasing them to the ends of the earth. Melissa often used them for reconnaissance.

Once Raul realized that, his fear grew strong enough to paralyze him.

The plants here had a close resemblance to those of the Roseberg Forest. In which case, the creator of ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’ must be…

“Raul-sama, watch out!”

Right as Monica shouted, several vines shot out from deep within the forest and wrapped themselves around Raul.

Monica tried to cut through the vines with chantless magic, but other vines and branches extended forward to form a shield against her wind blades.

Raul hastily pulled out a seed, but before he could finish his incantation, he was yanked back by the vines and torn away from Cyril.

Due to the rules of this world, Raul and Monica could not cast magic unless they were in physical contact with Sophocles.

“No…! Thorn Witch!”

“Raul-sama…!”

The vines dragged Raul deeper and deeper into the forest.

The shouts of Sophocles and Monica turned into faint sounds in the distance.

As he was pulled away by the vines, Raul smelled something sweet. A powerful fragrance different from the flowers of the daphne odora or the gardenia.

Then, there was a sharp sting on his shoulder, right at the base of his neck. Perhaps he had been pricked by a thorn.

It felt like the plant was entering through the wound and invading his body.

Like a seed extending its roots through him.

(I’m scared… scared… This is bad… I have to do something… I-I-I have… I… I… I…)

His thoughts and emotions grew dull.

By the time he could no longer feel fear or panic, he heard a whisper.

“Welcome back, Great Witch.”

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