Chapter 286
Chapter 286
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 286
Chapter Title: The One Trying to Understand (2)
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Bwoooong.
A bright moonlit night. A single vehicle left Randa and headed into a forest several kilometers away.
An untouched, dense woodland that no one had dared approach due to its awkward location.
Yet for some inexplicable reason, the forest was shrouded in a faint magical barrier, guarded by two men in unfamiliar uniforms blocking the road.
Al, driving the vehicle, pulled over at their gesture.
"There's a situation here right now, so entry is... a Red Person?"
"What kind of situation?"
A voice came from the back seat, and the uniformed man turned his head.
"This forest is currently under... and who are you?"
The man blinked in surprise upon seeing Oliver in the back seat. Oliver, who had been deep in thought with his eyes closed, slowly opened them.
"I received a message from Mr. Carver telling me to come here... May I pass?"
***
The vehicle came to a stop, and Al hurriedly got out to open Oliver's door.
But Oliver declined the gesture and opened the door himself.
"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Al."
"It's my job."
"I'll find my own way back, so feel free to head out."
"If I may ask... is that a request, or an order?"
"......? Of course it's a request. How could I give orders to you, Mr. Al..."
"In that case, would you permit me to wait? Please."
Caught off guard by the unexpected reply, Oliver paused for a moment before nodding.
"Then, I'll be right back."
"Safe travels, Mr. Dave."
Oliver returned the greeting to Al, then turned and walked forward.
What came into view upon turning was a massive force encircling the dense forest.
Their numbers easily exceeded a thousand, and the composition was intriguing.
Leading a small contingent of Security Bureau agents were the Pinkmen hired by the Sisterhood, along with direct forces from Crime Firm's board of directors aiming to capture Shamus and prove his innocence.
Particularly, Crime Firm's board-direct forces were modestly armed with magic coats and reinforced submachine guns, yet they outnumbered everyone else by far.
It was the largest and most splendid armed force Oliver had ever witnessed.
'And yet they can't break through easily.'
Oliver thought as he surveyed the traces of fierce combat between the encirclement and the forest.
Moments later, Oliver arrived at the makeshift command center.
There, centered around city official Carver, were Arthur from the Security Bureau's team leaders, Crime Firm's action captain and Fighter Crew Joe, the Pinkmen team leader, and scholars from the Moirae School of magic.
They represented most of Randa's martial factions, but every one of them looked emotionally frayed.
"Damn those tree-hugging bastards... How long have they been preparing this?"
"From what we know, preparing sorcery on that scale takes at least a few months."
"A few months? So those noble pricks have been planning to run since they set up ABC?!"
"What's the point of talking now?! We need to think about breaking through! This is outside Randa! We have to pull back at dawn!"
"If you're so great, you go break through! Fuck, we've lost a third of our guys already!!"
"What the hell, you bastard?!"
"Everyone, calm down, and for now... Huh?"
Amid the heated exchange born of frustration, Carver—who had been patiently mediating—spotted Oliver.
The others followed suit, turning to look.
"Good evening?"
Oliver greeted them calmly despite the atmosphere, earning him a mix of subtle expressions—welcome, exasperation, irritation, suspicion.
It made sense; in a short time, Oliver had both earned merit and committed a grave error.
He'd captured two Druids single-handedly, uncovering Shamus's location—a major achievement—yet he'd also arbitrarily abandoned his mission midway.
What on earth was he thinking...
As complex emotions swirled, the most composed, Carver, spoke up.
"Did you handle your business well?"
"Yes, thank you sincerely for your consideration during the mission."
"I didn't let you go out of pure kindness, so don't worry about it... As you can see, the situation isn't great. I hope you can help."
"Could you explain?"
Carver dove right into the briefing.
"Shamus and his Druid subordinates are holed up in that forest right now."
"Isn't that just about a dozen at most?"
"Looks like around fifty Druids. Not sure on details, but they seem to have support from other Enjoyments. Plus, there are plenty of armed thugs with heavy weapons, and even the anti-development committee's there, for reasons unknown."
"Ah..."
Oliver let out an impressed sigh at the unexpectedly large force.
"But the real problem is the sorcery enveloping the entire forest. The woods themselves are like a living fortress obstructing us."
"That's our assessment."
Albert, alongside the Moirae School mages, added.
"Massive tree roots crush intruders like Kraken tentacles. They snap Security Bureau and Pinkmen exosuits like toys and shrug off bombing spells. Until we deal with that, we're stuck."
Oliver focused his eyes on the forest.
Just as described, immense natural power cloaked the entire woods.
It appeared each tree bore sorcery, chained together like iron links to amplify strength—a task that must have taken months at minimum.
'And two more alien auras besides... What are those?'
Then a man interjected. Dressed like Arthur, likely a Security Bureau team leader.
"Listen, Mr. Carver. We need to pull back for now. It's not the numbers—our gear can't breach that!"
Carver replied.
"No can do. If we retreat, they'll escape, and then we truly won't catch them. Trillions would vanish. That shakes Randa's free city status. Think Security Bureau survives that?"
"Staying till dawn and getting caught breaks city accords! It'll be worse! Pull back, request kingdom army formally, deploy troops properly. Otherwise, innocents die!!"
"...I think Mr. Carver's right."
Oliver cut in abruptly. His voice was the calmest there, drawing all eyes.
"What?"
"I said I agree with Mr. Carver."
"You, who ditched us to play around—"
"—What's the reason?"
Carver silenced the grumbling team leader and asked.
"I sense alien energies inside the forest."
"Alien energies?"
"Can't explain precisely. Not magic or sorcery—closest to black magic, but somehow akin to spatial school magic."
"What the hell are you—"
"—Shut up, all of you. We're discussing the mission."
Carver scowled. Despite being the weakest ordinary man, his position granted authority beyond the superhumans.
"...Is that true?"
"I'm just saying what I see."
"If so, that's trouble."
"Same here. I have questions for Mr. Shamus."
In this saga of astronomical sums, politics, and tech, Oliver boldly claimed he had questions.
Everyone was dumbfounded.
"Questions?"
"Yes."
"Ha... Unbelievable. So curious? Go break through yourself."
The Security team leader pointed at the Druid-fortified forest.
Just then, a unit attempting entry was repelled by massive roots.
Bam!! The root slammed the ground, crushing gunmen like ants or flinging them skyward to crash down.
Overwhelming size and power—like elephants versus ants.
A morale-crushing sight.
Yet Oliver watched impassively, then nodded.
"Yes, think I will. Jo?"
"Yes, Mr. Dave."
Jo, boldly positioned among the Security team leader, Pinkmen leader, and Crime Firm action captain, sprang up at Oliver's call.
"Did you manage that favor I asked?"
"Yes, prepared. This way."
***
Jo led Oliver to two trucks amid the encirclement.
The massive cargo trucks were covered in tarps.
"At the directors' request, I gathered high-quality emotions, life force and mana potions, and thirty corpses. Time was short; this is the limit."
"Excellent. Thanks for the tough favor."
"No problem."
Oliver exchanged thanks with Jo, then called for Carver.
Curious like the others what Oliver planned, Carver followed and responded.
"Yes, Mr. Dave."
"If it's alright, may I proceed my way?"
"Solve this, and anything goes."
Sincere. Hearing it, Oliver acted immediately.
"What the... Huh?!"
The onlookers' eyes widened in disbelief.
Oliver extracted emotions from vials, pulverized them into particles, and dispersed them into the air. He removed the tarp, levitating large flasks from the boxes.
The flasks, afloat on emotion particles, churned regardless of type, then popped their lids, spilling contents.
Emotions mingled with Oliver's particles into black sludge,
Life force and mana swam similarly through the air.
As all gaped at the absurd energy volume, Oliver muttered.
"Image, image, image... Robe?"
With that casual mumble done, Oliver lightly flicked his fingers, shaping emotions into thin fabric draped over himself like a robe.
Not black magic.
Just conveniently wrapping massive emotions for carry.
Of course, far from simple.
Maintaining truckloads required immense control and mental fortitude.
Trivial for Oliver.
Proving it, he showed no fatigue, nodding contentedly.
"Not bad."
Oliver similarly banded life force and mana around himself.
Portable, usable.
But mere preparation.
Using emotion particles, Oliver granted artificial life to the thirty robust corpses lowered from the truck bed.
Thirty corpses rising.
Oliver layered more black magic.
Oliver's robe-like emotions responded to his will, enveloping the corpses.
Obedience seized control,
Lay the Foundations provided the base to withstand mass disease black magic,
Acromegaly gigantized them,
Steel Bone and Muscle Up reinforced bones and muscles.
But not done.
Oliver injected revived corpses with madness, fueling berserk aggression and muscle enhancement.
Muscles bulged to skin-tearing extremes. Topped with keratin armor plating their bodies.
Fearsome, ogre-like visages. Some instinctively backed away.
"But this alone won't..."
Oliver blended deprivation, greed, and mana into flames, birthing entities vaster than the giant zombies—four grotesque, flame-wrought men.
Flaky scalps, torn ears and mouth, twig-thin necks contrasting bloated bellies, spindly limbs.
"Kyakyakyakya hyahyahyahyah!!"
"Kuhuhuh huh huh!!"
"Hahahahahahaha!!"
"Kyakyakyakya kyakyakya kya kya!!"
Overwhelming heat, size, hideous forms.
Sneerers fell silent, all awestruck.
Undeterred, Oliver passed the monsters, invoking skyward magic.
Prep for massive lightning spell.
Clouds gathered over the sorcery-bound forest, swirling around a focal point.
Blue lightning flickered serpent-like.
Rumble. Rumble. Rumble...!!
But Druids weren't pushovers.
Key Druids sustaining the forest sorcery collaborated, sprouting vast trees to canopy the woods. Ground-shaking, the roof sealed overhead—ordinary lightning couldn't pierce it.
Oliver's wasn't ordinary anyway.
Oliver drew massive rage from his emotional robe, infusing the clouds.
Rage, clouds, lightning fused; moonlit blue bolts paradoxically blackened.
A Moirae mage muttered, soul-stunned.
"That's..."
"Strike Thunder"
⟨ Black Thunderbolt ⟩
With incantation, Oliver swept his hand down.
Rage-tainted thunderclouds unleashed fierce black lightning, writhing alive, maliciously targeting tree weak points.
Like pummeling a hated foe.
Shaking the heavens, devastating.
Druid canopy collapsed; black bolts poured all fury.
Kwarrrrrrrrrrrrooooom!!!!!
Five bolts ravaged the forest, igniting blaze; binding natural forces visibly weakened.
The sorcery links severed en masse.
Forest quaked amid inferno; thousand-strong anti-Shamus coalition stared blankly.
"I'll head in first."
As souls reeled from divine non-magic/non-black-magic feat, Oliver mounted a giant zombie and spoke.
By the time eyes turned, he was already charging ahead alone with zombies and Hungers.
Fighter Crew's Jo responded first.
"...What are you waiting for? Everyone, follow!"
Jo bolted, crew roaring after.