For a moment, I fell silent.
"...I see," I eventually said, nodding awkwardly.
Prolonging the silence would only make things more uncomfortable. Besides, her answer was pretty much what I expected.
After all, she had already mentioned that manifesting only her head was a way to accelerate her descent.
Oddly enough, I appreciated her honesty.
She could have lied, brushing off my concerns by saying she had no intention of harming humans, assuring me it was safe to leave her be.
Instead, she chose to answer me directly and firmly:
if she were freed, she would become my enemy.
No deceit, no pretense—just a straightforward warning.
That honesty forced me to deliberate.
Hmm...
Destroying the altar seemed like the obvious choice.
I might be a fugitive from the knights, but I was still human, and my hatred for demons was more than enough justification.
And yet... I hesitated.
It wasn’t sentimentality—I’d only spent a few days with her.
She was just a disembodied demon neck; what attachment could I possibly have?
No, my hesitation stemmed from practicality.
She had created this Forbidden Forest, after all.
Destroying the altar and sending her back to the demon realm might cause the forest to normalize, cutting off the mana sustaining it.
That would be inconvenient for me.
This forest was as much my haven as it was her fortress.
It had shielded me, provided me with resources, and kept the knights at bay. Without it, I might not have survived this long.
It’s this forest that’s holding back the knights, I thought.
And so, I arrived at another ambiguous conclusion.
I’ll decide later.
For now, I would leave the altar intact, at least until I dealt with the knights.
Having made my decision, I turned back to Barbatos and continued questioning her.
“So, you said there are four kings in the demon realm?”
“Indeed,” she replied.
“Care to tell me more about them?”
She smiled slyly, her expression mischievous.
“That’s a secret. Spoiling the surprise would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”
Without hesitation, I shoved my finger into her mouth again.
“Gah—urk!”
A few more days passed. The rain still hadn’t come.
My days became monotonous:
I’d wake up, eat a simple meal, chat with Barbatos, and occasionally swing my spear or hunt to keep my senses sharp.
During these training sessions, I noticed my perception sharpening unexpectedly.
The flow of mana and malevolent energy in the surroundings, the faint sound of wind at the cave’s entrance, even the subtlest of sensations—it all became startlingly clear.
Perhaps my repeated brushes with death had honed my instincts.
This heightened awareness led to a new discovery:
amidst the dense malevolent energy, I could feel a distinct, refined force—a concentration of mana.
It wasn’t controlled or directed, but its presence stood out against the chaotic energy around it.
The problem was locating it.
It wasn’t visible, making it difficult to pinpoint. Still, I felt confident I would find it eventually.
While I was mulling this over, Barbatos, who had been quietly observing my training, spoke up.
“You are... certainly peculiar,” she remarked.
Just as I had been watching her, she had been watching me.
Though only a few days had passed, it was enough time for her to notice certain traits.
“I see now why you seem similar to us. You carry the blood of a demon,” she said.
Her observation wasn’t surprising. My status as a Manifestor wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret, and I hadn’t bothered to hide it.
I decided to use the opportunity to ask her something.
“They say each Manifestor is tied to a specific demon. From your perspective, can you tell who mine is?”
“Hm... I’m afraid I wouldn’t know. I could make a guess based on your sigil,” she replied.
I pulled down my collar to reveal the mark on my clavicle.
“Such shamelessness in a man,” she muttered, though she scrutinized the sigil nonetheless.
“A horned demon, it seems. A common trait. Most high-ranking demons possess horns, myself included. It’s too generic to determine anything specific.”
“Really?” I muttered, clicking my tongue in disappointment.
I hadn’t expected much, but the lack of answers still stung.
What intrigued me more was her claim to have horns.
“You have horns?” I asked, skeptical.
I couldn’t see any.
“Well, I haven’t fully descended, have I? I saw no reason to manifest my horns, given the effort required to maintain my current form. But rest assured, I possess elegant, majestic horns reminiscent of a stag.”
“Huh...”
I nodded dismissively. It wasn’t a crucial detail, so I moved on to another question.
“What do demons think of Manifestors?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you bother implanting your blood in humans?”
Manifestors had ruined countless lives.
Families were torn apart, children exiled at a young age, or entire households slaughtered.
Those born with demon blood lived as fugitives or met gruesome ends.
I was no exception.
My face betrayed my complicated emotions, and Barbatos seemed equally troubled by the question.
After a pause, she answered slowly:
“...Manifestors are, if I were to put it simply, keys. They help us open doors to this world.”
“Keys?”
“Or catalysts, if you prefer. Opening a connection between two worlds isn’t easy. A bridge is necessary, something to link them. That’s why we scattered our blood, creating those bridges.”
“I see...”
Her explanation made sense. Manifestors were tools, a means for demons to enter this world.
Still, her demeanor left me uneasy.
As if sensing my agreement, she changed the subject.
“Enough about that. Tell me, what do you eat here? I’m curious about human food,” she said.
Her attempt to deflect was blatant.
She’s hiding something, I thought.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out what.
Despite her relatively open answers, the barrier between human and demon perspectives was clear—she still harbored some reservations.
If only Dantalion’s ear worked on her...
But it didn’t.
Whether it was because she was stronger than Dantalion or simply immune to the item’s effects, I didn’t know.
In the end, I had no choice but to humor her change of topic.
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freewebnovel.cσ๓.
Day 30 in the Deep Layer.
Seven days since settling at the altar.
As I wondered if summer would end without rain, it finally came.
Drip, drip, drip.
The heavy downpour echoed even in the underground cave.
The air filled with the scent of rain and soil, while a misty fog crept through the vast forest.
The sight of rain in this green expanse was almost surreal.
Finally.
I began preparing to leave.
The battle would be the day after the rain, but given the distance between the Deep and Middle Layers, I needed to move now.
Thankfully, the rain hadn’t started at night, sparing me the misery of traveling in the dark.
“...Are you leaving?”
Barbatos’s voice came from behind me.
Even after just a week together, her face showed clear regret.
I nodded.
“Yeah, it’s time.”
Taking her with me wasn’t an option.
Carrying around a demon’s head would be absurd, and more importantly, she was bound to this place until her descent.
“I thought you’d destroy the altar before leaving,” she muttered. “And yet, you’ve spared it. How curious.”
“You’d be the one to benefit, wouldn’t you? Didn’t you say returning on your own would draw unwanted attention?”
“That’s only if I return of my own volition. If the altar were destroyed by someone else, I’d have a valid excuse. I wouldn’t face scrutiny.”
Even so, I had no intention of destroying the altar.
Without it, the forest would cease to exist, and I wasn’t about to give up my sanctuary.
Barbatos didn’t seem eager to return to the demon realm anyway.
“Hmph. Fine. Go, then. Leave and never come back,” she said, her tone petulant.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her expressive demeanor, so at odds with her otherwise gentle appearance.
“I’ll be going, then,” I replied, gathering my things.
But before leaving, I investigated the peculiar energy I’d sensed earlier.
“What are you doing now?”
Ignoring her question, I broke through a suspicious section of the wall.
“No! Stop—!”
Her voice was frantic, but I pressed on.
As the wall crumbled, a hidden space was revealed, filled with spirit herbs.
“Well, no wonder I couldn’t find them,” I said, smirking.
The herbs were likely offerings meant to aid her descent.
Refined by feeding on malevolent energy, they were a convenient way to condense mana.
“This is confiscated,” I said, holding up the herbs with a mischievous grin.
“You insolent fool! Return those immediately! They were painstakingly gathered!”
“Yeah, so you can descend and become my enemy? Fat chance.”
She raged and shouted, but I couldn’t take her seriously.
After pocketing the herbs, I turned to her one last time.
“If things go well, I’ll visit again.”
She fell silent, then muttered, almost begrudgingly:
“...You insolent brat.”
I left the altar, heading back toward the Middle Layer.
The knights and interdimensional Players waiting there crossed my mind.
No matter how many or how prepared they were, I had made my own preparations.
Soon, the world would have no choice but to recognize me.
And so, I began my return to the Middle Layer.