Chapter 452: The Well’s Boundary (2)

Dawn arrived after a long night. Light began to penetrate the murky, sunken jungle.

The jungle’s morning, where tens of thousands of living creatures breathed, was silent.

Only the quiet plink of dewdrops falling from spiderwebs woven between the bushes echoed.

Drip, drip.

The droplets, brushing against the grass blades as they fell, were a deep crimson.

“D…ie….”

A faint groan from someone unable to even scream properly.

Lennok, who had been sitting still with his eyes closed, turned his head at the sound.

“Die…!!”

Whoosh!!

A sharp flash shot out from the dimly lit jungle.

Just as he slightly tilted his head, mana threads rose from beneath his feet, snagging the flash.

A poisoned dart thickly coated with green liquid. A potent venom that guaranteed instant death upon piercing the skin.

Immediately afterward, a deluge of countless hidden weapons rained down from above Lennok’s head.

Catalysts attached to the sharp weapons pulsed incessantly, turning the surroundings into a massive ball of heat.

Kwaaaaaang!!!

Sorcerers emerged from the explosions, forming hand seals and charging directly at Lennok.

Each unleashed their signature spells, firing them relentlessly at Lennok.

Sticky curses, ropes coiling like snakes, and massive scythes slashed and spun everywhere.

Kagagak!!

Their plan was to draw attention with powerful firepower, then overwhelm him in close combat.

As the Binding of Verdant Green was a collective of various sorcerers, there were also those who excelled in close-quarters combat.

Leaves forming at their fist-tips rustled, generating slicing winds, and patterns engraved on daggers glowed as they flew.

Pabababat!!

But Lennok’s body seemed to sag downwards as if collapsing in place, then floated as if gliding along the ground.

A strange movement, as if he were bound by invisible strings and being dragged around.

Instead of moving himself, his odd, forced evasion maneuvers caused the sorcerers’ attacks to repeatedly miss their timing.

Behind the sorcerers who had failed their initial assault, sharp mana threads glittered, delivering a follow-up attack.

“Aargh!!”

“Damn it, after coming all this way…!!”

“No, no!!”

Each time Lennok, landing on the grass, walked among the sorcerers, more blood-splattered bodies fell.

It was a method of imbuing the mana threads with cutting magic, increasing their sharpness, and drastically raising their tensile strength and hardness while reducing flexibility.

Combined with Lennok’s ability to conceal his mana, it was like an invisible blade in this chaotic jungle.

While a superhuman’s senses might not make it impossible to detect mana threads, what about when facing a specialized spellcaster who individually controlled hundreds of such threads?

Lennok had never once lost the initiative in this kind of psychological warfare.

“Ugh…!”

From the chest of the man rolling on the ground, the shattered remains of a small skull spilled out.

Emitting faint smoke, it vaguely pointed in the direction Lennok was sitting.

Lennok let out a light sigh upon seeing the skull fragments.

“So that’s how they broke through the maze. They used forbidden magic. When human sacrifice is involved, it’s hard to predict its efficacy.”

The depravity of using fellow humans as ingredients for a spell.

It was the most dangerous catalyst a spellcaster could use, yet its abnormally excellent efficiency was also true.

Though rumors circulated that using forbidden human sacrifice magic would cause the caster themselves to be consumed by the spell, not many were wise enough to discern that.

“Are you the only one left?”

Lennok said this, leaning slightly towards the fallen man.

Squeak…

At the same time, with a sound like threads stretching slightly, dozens of mana threads began to move, centered around Lennok.

Chwarararak!!!

Instantly, he seized the surviving sorcerer, Kayeon, by the collar and lifted his body upwards.

Kayeon, opening his eyes weakly and looking down, saw Lennok, wearing a mask, looking up at him.

A small clearing amidst the jungle foliage.

The sight of the wizard, positioned at the center, looking up at him, with hundreds of mana threads spread out like a spiderweb in every direction.

A groan escaped Kayeon’s lips as he realized that the hundreds of mana threads he was sitting on had spread densely throughout the entire jungle.

“…It was you.”

All the other sorcerers were dead. Even after an entire night, they hadn’t even touched Lennok’s clothes.

But Kayeon’s desperate struggle to reach Lennok’s location was not to beg for his life.

“Because of you… I wandered through the same place dozens, hundreds of times, and came back…!!”

Kayeon, glaring at Lennok with bloodshot eyes, burning with hatred.

On his desperately distorted face, there were no longer any traces of normal reason.

Even with his limbs held as if squeezed by mana threads, far from begging for his life, he drooled strangely towards Lennok.

Lennok knew where the cause of that half-mad appearance originated.

“You, because of you, I couldn’t reach the Well…!! Kill…!! I’ll kill you…!!”

Lennok, watching Kayeon foam at the mouth and struggle like a child, waved his hand.

Whoosh!!

A mana thread brushed past his jaw, instantly robbing Kayeon of his consciousness.

Only then, confirming that the early morning jungle had regained its silence, did Lennok slowly walk down from the mana threads.

Just as he was about to tie Kayeon tightly with mana threads and drag him deeper into the forest, a stiff voice came from behind Lennok.

“A good, barrier.”

“…”

Between the mana threads, meticulously placed without a single gap, a bronze-skinned man stood like a ghost, looking at him.

He appeared to be around forty. A middle-aged man who didn’t look young. His muscular physique and the blue stone knife in his hand were striking.

The mana flowing from him was at least level 6, conservatively speaking.

The moment Lennok’s eyes chilled, the man slowly extended his hand and spoke again.

“You arranged mana threads to draw a barrier formation, turning the entire, area, into a labyrinth.”

His way of speaking was undeniably awkward. A sense of dissonance, as if the language used on this continent itself was unfamiliar to him.

However, the man’s words, despite his tone, accurately pierced through what Lennok had done.

Sorcerers who summoned elephants as their beasts. Against the Binding of Verdant Green, who were like living tank divisions, Lennok did not insist on a head-on confrontation.

Instead, he widely scattered mana threads throughout the jungle and used them as catalysts to create a massive labyrinth.

Applying Ascendant Jindun’s barrier magic to its extreme, he bent space itself, connecting the beginning and end to create an inescapable labyrinth.

At the same time, he appropriately mixed strange psychic waves emanating from inside the Well into the barrier formation, continuously stimulating the sorcerers.

The sorcerers, realizing they were constantly wandering the same place, fell into extreme agitation, suspected and attacked each other, and self-destructed.

The masterless elephants, consumed by excitement, destroyed the jungle at will and scattered everywhere, leaving only a few sorcerers who regained their senses late.

If the surviving sorcerers, led by Kayeon, hadn’t used human sacrifice to find Lennok, they would have died without ever knowing what had happened to them.

The bronze-skinned man standing before Lennok had accurately understood this entire process and offered praise.

“To be able to toy with opponents, to this extent, in this jungle. Excellent. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a barrier mage like you.”

“…Your introduction is long.”

Lennok’s modulated voice escaped through his mask.

“Did you call me just to exchange pleasantries?”

The man shook his head.

“No, there is something I wish to have returned.”

“…Returned?”

“You have, a tribal item. I wish to trade.”

“…”

“Excellent barrier mage. I will not harm you. You only need to show it.”

The man said this, slowly wiggling his finger.

At the same time, an item inside Lennok’s robe began to vibrate faintly.

Only then, understanding that the man’s words were not nonsense, did Lennok slowly pull out the vibrating item from within his robe.

“This is…”

A leather collar shaped like a leash. Lennok, recognizing the artifact, raised his head.

The leopard-riding warrior who had survived until the end in the Grimoire Gang race.

Wasn’t this the artifact he’d been given by the person who revealed themselves to be a member of the Southern Blood Spirit Tribe?

It possessed the ability to locate someone’s position through constellations, and Lennok had used it to find Madrich Onnion’s location.

Calling this item a ‘tribal item’ meant that the man before him was also a member of the same Blood Spirit Tribe.

As Lennok fell into thought, the man spoke again.

“I am not, merely asking for it. The serpent’s secret, I will tell you.”

“…The serpent’s secret?”

If ‘serpent’ referred to something in this jungle, it almost certainly meant the serpent guarding the Well, the secret of Ascendant Pyeonram.

He had heard that the Blood Spirit Tribe lived much deeper than the ancient city where the Well was located, and only a few of them roamed the continent to experience the world.

A story about Pyeonram’s secret, told by such people… Lennok didn’t hesitate long.

“Alright.”

It wasn’t an item Lennok found particularly useful or had relied on heavily.

However, if it was an item of significance to the Blood Spirit Tribe, then giving it up for valuable information was well worth it.

As he readily tossed the collar to the man, the man mumbled with a slightly moved expression.

“Our tribe, does not, casually hand over relics to others.”

“…”

“That this item was left to you, is proof of a life lived without regret. I wish to repay you.”

It seemed he was mistaken, believing the Blood Spirit Tribe warrior who gave Lennok the item was already dead, but Lennok didn’t bother correcting that misconception.

There was no time to explain how the item came into his possession.

The man gently caressed the collar before placing it inside his robe and speaking.

“There is a story, passed down through generations, in our tribe’s history, about the serpent.”

“A story?”

“The story of the serpent who, due to obsessing over its given mission, ended up forgetting it instead.”

“…”

“Once, all mortals in this jungle shared in its glory, but as the serpent’s time began to turn backward, it lost its meaning. The city revering a great mission became tainted with madness, and the serpent, with its own hands, destroyed everything.”

It was obvious that it wasn’t just a simple story.

And also that the man was merely using the form of a tribal legend to speak cryptically to Lennok.

“I know what you all are trying to do, in this jungle.”

The man’s awkward speech had, by now, become fluent and grave.

His two pupils shone with a strangely bright yellow light.

Lennok was aware of those eyes, having once heard about them from Olivera.

The Mystic Eye of the Northern Leader, said to be passed down only to the direct descendants of the Southern Blood Spirit Tribe. The essence of foresight, observing the stars and their movements to predict and prepare for the future.

He looked at Lennok with a clear gaze and spoke softly.

“We see what comes next through the stars, predict the future, and prepare for our continued existence… What is about to happen is an atrocity, completely unforgivable from our tribe’s perspective, but for today, we will turn a blind eye.”

He hadn’t simply come to Lennok to retrieve a tribal relic.

This man, who appeared to be a core leader of the Blood Spirit Tribe, had sought out Lennok to directly convey their stance to Pandemonium.

“Because only after the play, destined from long ago, concludes and the curtain falls, can everything in this jungle be set right again.”

“A play, you say…”

Lennok, pondering those words, let out a chuckle.

“You’re taking a long, roundabout way to say you won’t interfere. I understand.”

“…”

Lennok had no way of knowing how accurate and precise the future seen by the Blood Spirit Tribe through the night sky was, but he didn’t press further.

He understood that they had their own reasons, and he felt he now had some idea of what kind of being Pyeonram was.

Most Ascendants Lennok had encountered so far, despite the grand achievement of challenging ascension, were horribly twisted.

Whether it was their physical bodies, their mental landscapes, or their regrets towards a pessimistic future.

Pyeonram, too, must have ultimately failed to escape that cycle of longing.

It would be pointless to detain the man here and ask for detailed information about Pyeonram.

Remembering the keyword ‘memory’ he mentioned would suffice.

Just as Lennok thought that and was about to turn his head without hesitation, the man suddenly threw a fist-sized pouch at Lennok.

Thud!

Lennok, ruling out the possibility of embarrassing himself by trying to catch it bare-handed, silently watched the pouch fall at his feet as the man spoke.

“It is bait, used to lure, the jungle beasts.”

“…Why are you giving me this?”

“I saw, a little. There will be, a necessary moment.”

The man, who had reverted to his stiff and awkward way of speaking, crossed his arms and nodded.

“It was a good conversation. A gift.”

With those words, the man’s form, holding the collar, blurred and vanished.

Lennok watched the man’s retreating figure, then quietly picked up the leather pouch.

Since no particular hostility was felt, there was no harm in keeping it.

‘The outside is completely sealed. I can’t smell anything…’

He knew that this vast jungle harbored monstrous beasts far more dangerous than ordinary animals.

Lennok himself had encountered all sorts of strange magical beasts while creating the labyrinth on the outskirts of the ruins using mana threads.

It was a demonic realm where creatures like long-armed monkeys with thick calluses, giant horned lizards, or blue toads with more than eight legs roamed.

Did he think there might be a moment when he’d need to escape from such beasts?

For now, it was unknown. Lennok subtly checked the time on his wristwatch, then immediately turned around.

More than an hour had passed since dawn broke, and after dealing with the Binding of Verdant Green and a few latecomers, no one else was lurking nearby.

He’d captured one sorcerer, so all he had to do was drag him back to the airship.

Just as Lennok thought that and was about to turn around, pulling Kayeon along.

“Should we, just leave that friend behind? We don’t need him.”

Thwack!!

Kayeon’s head, which had been writhing while bound by mana threads, was severed diagonally on the spot.

Behind the head that dropped and rolled, the figure of a young man, twirling a small dagger, appeared.

The white powder on his face and the makeup that forced a strange smile were familiar.

The Clown, who had fallen from the airship before Lennok and gone missing in the middle of the jungle, had finally reached the vicinity of the ruins.

“Phew, that was tough…”

The Clown let out a deep sigh and casually stepped over Kayeon’s head as he walked out.

The young man’s entire body, from head to toe, was drenched in blood.

After jumping out alone mid-jungle, just how many people had he killed to arrive here?

“Took you longer than I thought.”

“You can say that again.”

As he swept back his blood-soaked hair, The Clown grinned.

“Someone lied about jumping out together, and I totally fell for it.”

“…”

“Just kidding, but I threw the dice again midway, and I got two low rolls in a row, kekeke… so I ended up having to fight my way out directly.”

The Clown grumbled, shaking off the bloodstains clinging to his sleeves.

It was clear he’d been through intense combat all night, yet he didn’t seem particularly tired.

Proof that he was a powerful illusionist and also an excellent warrior.

Lennok ignored The Clown and turned his gaze away.

“The airship is nearby. If you haven’t rejoined yet, move now.”

“Wait, there’s something I need to confirm first.”

“What?”

“Well, I saw something very interesting on my way here.”

The Clown grinned, staring intently at Lennok.

“I noticed a very familiar barrier formation deployed in this area.”

“…”

“Did you know that most illusionists are also proficient in barrier magic? To deceive others, you have to study how to set the stage well, you know. But then I saw a pattern of barrier magic that I could never forget.”

The Clown, who had been loudly chattering and laughing, abruptly stopped laughing and asked.

“Victor, what is your relationship with Jindun?”