I stared at her for a moment.
"Honestly, I just found it fascinating that you're just... a neck," I said, brushing off her question.
For a split second, an odd thought crossed my mind, but I chose not to elaborate.
It wasn’t worth explaining—it felt a bit ridiculous, and it wasn’t all that important anyway.
Still, it was strange.
The dense, oppressive energy flowing from her, and the fact that she could speak so naturally in that state, clearly marked her as something other than human.
She had introduced herself, after all.
Barbatos, the 8th Demon of the Forest, she called herself.
It had been a long time since I’d met another demon—Dantalion being the last.
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What stuck with me most was her rank.
"The 8th, huh..."
That was quite high.
Of course, I knew the rankings weren’t strictly indicative of strength. Dantalion, for instance, wasn’t overwhelmingly stronger than the others.
But still, the number itself carried an undeniable weight.
And even without considering the rank, the sheer amount of energy emanating from her was staggering.
So much of it spilled out that it seeped beyond the cave. From that alone, it was clear she was no ordinary opponent.
"Hmm... If I put something down her throat, would it come out her mouth? Or what’s the deal with where her neck ends?"
Despite her ominous aura, I couldn’t muster much tension. She was just a neck, after all.
I left her be and started surveying my surroundings.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, the subterranean chamber became clearer.
The floor was etched with massive lines resembling a magic circle, with peculiar symbols embedded at its center.
Though I’d never seen one before, I’d heard enough to recognize what this place was.
"So this is the altar..."
The Forbidden Forest was circular, an anomalous expanse of dense woods that emerged suddenly in the empire’s fields. It was vast and perilous.
Given its shape, many had wondered what lay at the heart of the forest.
Now, I had my answer.
At its deepest core was a demon’s altar. No wonder Lemegeton had ventured here.
While I was lost in thought, Barbatos interrupted with a scowl.
"How rude. When someone introduces themselves, shouldn’t you do the same in return?"
I gave a half-hearted response.
"Ah, yeah. Nice to meet you. I’m Yor."
"...Hmph. You lack even the most basic courtesy. But then, what else should I expect from a human?"
She sighed, her tone authoritative but devoid of any real menace—hardly surprising, considering she was just a neck.
Though undoubtedly a demon, she wasn’t particularly intimidating.
Since fighting her didn’t seem necessary, I decided to engage in conversation.
"So... why are you just a neck? I get that this is an altar, but what’s the deal?"
"Address me properly, as Lady Barbatos, you insolent fool. And do you think I’ll just answer your questions so easily?"
Her tone grew sharp, her ego evident despite her disembodied state. It was clear she wouldn’t speak freely unless addressed with what she deemed proper respect.
But I wasn’t about to play along.
"Listen, I think you’re confused about who’s in charge here. Unlike you, I’ve got arms and legs, and I can destroy this altar if I feel like it," I said, twirling my spear and pointing it at her face.
A direct threat. If she didn’t cooperate, I’d resort to force.
She didn’t seem capable of resisting anyway—being just a neck.
Yet, even as the spear tip hovered near her throat, she didn’t flinch.
"How brutish. Do as you wish. Returning to the demon realm might be preferable to this..."
Her calm indifference caught me off guard.
It almost seemed like she wanted the altar to be destroyed, her weary green eyes betraying a quiet resignation.
"...Interesting," I muttered, lowering my spear.
Truth be told, destroying the altar would have been easy and, by all accounts, the right thing to do.
She was a demon, after all, and as someone plagued monthly by cursed demonic blood, I had every reason to hate her kind.
But something about this encounter felt different.
Whether her demeanor was genuine or some advanced trickery, I felt an odd inclination to hear her out.
Besides, having reached the forest’s core, I had no pressing plans.
"Fine," I said, sitting down on the ground.
Barbatos raised an eyebrow, evidently surprised by my reaction.
"You’re... unusual. Most humans cower or grovel at the sight of a demon."
I didn’t respond, unsure how to react to a demon that was just a neck. Instead, I pressed on with more questions.
Answers weren’t always necessary—sometimes observing reactions was enough to piece things together. And if worse came to worst, I had Dantalion’s ear as a backup tool.
"So, all the malevolent energy in this forest, and the unusually high number of monsters... that’s your doing, isn’t it?"
When she introduced herself, she had called herself the Demon of the Forest.
The clues were obvious: the suffocating energy throughout the forest, the unnatural density of monsters—it all traced back to her.
Surprisingly, she admitted it readily.
"Yes. This is my work. I have the power to shape and command the forest as I please."
Apparently, lowering my spear had softened her stance. She continued speaking without hesitation.
"It was all to protect this altar. Leaving it exposed underground would’ve been too risky, so I fortified the area, turning it into a stronghold to buy time for my descent."
"You mean you haven’t fully descended yet? But you can still use power in your current state?"
"It’s possible. By manifesting parts of my body, as you see now, I can wield some power even while bound to the altar. Though it’s only a fraction of my full strength."
I nodded silently.
This was new information—demons could still exert power even while tethered to their altars.
Even if it was just a fraction, that fraction was enough to create this sprawling forest.
In a way, I owed my survival to her creation, intentional or not.
"Impressive," I admitted.
"Indeed," she replied with a smug tilt of her head. Though, being just a neck, the gesture lacked any gravitas.
Her pride quickly gave way to a sigh.
"But... it’s tiring. I had expected to gather enough mana from the altar to fully descend, but it’s taking far longer than anticipated."
She continued, her voice tinged with frustration.
"It has been ages since I manifested like this."
I wondered how long this forest had existed.
Surely, it hadn’t sprouted overnight. Trees would have grown gradually, expanding the forest’s reach over time.
While the exact timeline was unclear, it was undoubtedly over a century old.
I imagined her spending centuries alone in this dark cave, her neck bound to this altar...
...That sounds awful.
Even as a demon, she must have felt some measure of loneliness.
Ten years of isolation had nearly driven me mad—how much worse must it have been for her?
"Can’t you undo your manifestation or return to the demon realm temporarily?" I asked, curious.
"It’s possible," she admitted. "But returning empty-handed would only invite ridicule from other demons. After going so far as to manifest my head, failure would earn me scorn from my king as well."
I didn’t know much about demon society, nor did I care to.
Still, hearing her speak made it sound like their lives weren’t much easier than ours.
Her guarded demeanor cracked slightly as she added, "But... staying here isn’t so bad. I can command the animals for entertainment, and at least I’m free from my king’s watchful gaze."
What started as a Q&A had devolved into a lament.
It seemed she’d been bottling up her frustrations for ages, perhaps even before she arrived in this forest.
With nothing better to do, I listened idly.
Her manner of speech was unnecessarily formal, but her words were surprisingly candid and emotional.
Amid her rambling, I realized she was divulging little of value.
...Still, what’s the weather like outside?
I remembered the plan to confront the knights the day after a rainstorm, yet the rain hadn’t come as quickly as expected.
I decided to check the weather and stood up to leave.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"Just checking something," I replied casually.
"You’re not planning to leave me, are you?"
I stopped, turning to gauge her intent.
Barbatos pouted like a child, her tone petulant.
"At least talk with me a while longer. I’m terribly bored."
Her plea drew a wry smile from me.