Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Entry
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Southward. I walk and walk.
But in my mind, that woman's words keep looping on repeat.
-The developers killed themselves. Went missing. And there was a fire at the game company. They say the game's beyond recovery!
My vision is hazy. The sky is filled with a pale blur—clouds, maybe aurora, who knows.
They were the ones who made great games, only to vanish so pointlessly. Silently, I pray for their souls as I press on.
It'd be a lie to say I'm not sad. I loved them. Loved the games they made. Even the little flaws and imperfections in those games—I wanted to cherish them all.
Something's definitely going on here.
That's why I can't just dismiss it as coincidence.
Right after twenty mortals were randomly dragged into the world of Deathcall, the developers commit suicide, go missing, and a fire guts the game company?
Looking at the results alone, full-dive players have no escape route left.
It's like someone—or something—is deliberately blocking logout. Or game over.
If someone's truly pulling strings behind the scenes, then we really only have two choices.
Cling to survival in this Deathcall world, day by day. Or clear the game and end it for good.
My choice is obvious: the latter. Sitting around won't make things better.
And if my hunch is right—if someone shoved us into this game world on purpose—then what they ultimately want is for us to clear it.
It doesn't make sense they'd orchestrate all this just to torment and kill twenty humans painfully.
This whole situation feels more like the scheme of some vile commander screaming at fleeing soldiers to advance while gunning them down.
Whoever "they" are, they have a goal worth driving us to death for. And the odds are high it's clearing the game. Which means there's only one thing for me to do right now.
Head south.
No matter what mess I've stumbled into, the moment I lay down in that full-dive rig and launched Deathcall, I was left with just one purpose.
Clear the game.
The hazy view clears. Sunlight splits through thick fog and clouds in a spectacle fit for the ages.
Sacred wouldn't be an overstatement.
But that holy beam draws my eyes downward, to the deep, dense forest sprawled below. South of the monastery, the plains give way to a woodland thick with grass and trees.
"..."
At the edge where the vast plain ends, I pause and peer into the shadows among the trees.
Tall, needle-sharp trunks stand like they're barring my way. Even with sunlight filtering in, pitch darkness lurks between the dense undergrowth.
And that's not all.
...Something's definitely moving in there.
Shrieeek!
Before I can make out its shape, an enemy bursts through the trees. I hurl myself backward in a roll, dodging the ambush—but the sight that greets me is far from ordinary.
It can't reach me as I back away from the forest. No, judging by that slender upper body poking out, it's not an "it"—it's a "she."
Anyway, her gaunt, emaciated frame lashes out with aggressive claws meant to kill. But she doesn't move her legs to close the distance.
Curious, I glance at her lower half. Her legs are rooted into the ground like a plant. Just like a tree driving roots deep into the soil—hers have burrowed in too.
No rash entry into the forest, then. I need to find a proper path inside.
There are more of those eerie women in spots without a clear trail. The one staring at me, claws poised, has three or four comrades stirring to life behind her, all eyeing me now.
Gripping my greatsword, I stay wary of them as I scout for a way into the southern forest. Charging in unprepared would've ended with me grabbed and dead.
The southern forest. Lord Magius's domain.
A treacherous place lurking with vicious trees and unidentified plant-like monsters.
No quick shortcuts through it. To reach the depths, I'll have to walk the main path on my own two feet—right through hordes of enemies.
"Kigeek!"
The foes are already multiplying. Ragged mobs like the ones anywhere in the Blessed Land.
They lunge with bare fists or swing the scythes and torches they clutch.
So I gift them my greatsword in return. A hefty present that no scythe or torch could match.
Crraaack!
Swinging Veronine's greatsword unleashes a devastating sound you rarely hear. Hard to tell if I'm slicing them or just pulverizing their bodies into mush.
The heavy swing from right to left smashes straight into their left arms first.
But it doesn't stop—keeps going, shredding their sides completely, crushing ribs and guts to paste.
"Kiek...?"
One drops, and the rest hesitate, pulling back. Even their glazed eyes catch the death looming right in front of them.
Too late to run.
Thud-crunch! Boom!
The overhead swing flattens one completely. Not the clean bisect it'd make in Veronine's mighty hands—instead, my lesser strength makes the result even more gruesome and destructive.
Blood and flesh spray. Meat and bone pulverize.
The ground quakes. Grass dies. This isn't combat—it's a slaughter.
"Hoo."
After cutting down five or six, I finally spot a gravestone embedded at the forest's fringe. The first save point you hit before proper entry into the southern woods.
It looks no different from stones in other areas.
Except for one clear difference.
"..."
Fewer names carved into it. Stones at the start were crammed up to knee height. Here, barely thigh level.
That many fewer mortals sacrificed, then. A serious drop-off.
And it'll keep dwindling. The deeper into the Blessed Land you go, the lonelier those engravings will get.
"Sentimental, aren't we."
What the—
As I rest my hand on the stone, lost in thought, a very familiar voice pipes up in my ear.
I roll away as if fleeing the sound's direction. Pretty much let myself get ambushed.
Never thought my reaction time was slow, but...
Pfft.
Laughter follows. Mocking, sneering laughter.
I glare, and someone steps out from behind the stone. Belting six or seven clinking round objects at the waist, hooded head...
No, not someone—her.
The woman from before.
The 1800s lady who ambushed Frigo and me, stole our stuff, and bolted.
"You're still alive because I didn't want to waste bomb materials on you. Nothing worth looting anyway—would've just cost me."
What a pain. Or should I call her "granny" since she's from the 1800s?
Pretty, refined face aside, her behavior is utterly off-putting. No normal woman acts like this.
"Hey, mind if I ask you something?"
"Don't. No time to chat with you."
I was going to ask how she ended up here, but she just tsks and starts walking deeper into the forest.
"Got it."
So I don't pry. Just follow the main path into the woods.
No need for a shouting match. She says she doesn't want to talk—what can I do?
"...But seriously, what are you doing here?"
Then she turns around and asks me, trailing behind as I push through the trees. Curious, maybe.
"Here to kill the boss."
"Boss?"
"The strongest one around here. Know anything about it?"
"Aha. I see."
Then she unleashes a torrent of sarcasm my way.
"You're brain-dead, aren't you? Wandered in here without a clue what this place even is?"
"Yeah."
"Puhaha! One more corpse on the pile."
She looks prettier laughing. Definitely noble stock.
Doesn't match her crude, prickly attitude at all. No idea why she acts like that.
"This isn't just any forest. It has another name. Straight from the monsters who live here... the Screaming Forest."
"Why's it called that?"
"Listen to the wind. Hear anything?"
She makes me figure out the alias for myself.
A creepy chill brushes my neck.
But chillier still are the screams echoing on the wind.
Kiaaaah—
Cries of agony from the forest depths.
Every gust makes the whole woods wail.
So that's why it's the Screaming Forest.
"Got it. Thanks."
I bow slightly in genuine gratitude for the tip, then head deeper along the main path.
"...Hah?"
A scoff from behind.
"Hey, wait a sec!"
But her voice fades, growing distant.
Kraaaah—krik—
Kiaaaaaah—
Now only screams swirl around me.
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Chapter 1 - Summoned Mortals
end.
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