DEATH REALM – Forest Periphery
After months spent wandering through the forest, Nakid had practically memorized every corner of it.
The deeper regions no longer felt unfamiliar.
The trees.
The hunting grounds.
The rivers.
The strange flowers.
Everything had become part of his daily life.
That was why he immediately noticed the change.
Beyond the edge of the forest stood structures he had never seen before.
Watchtowers.
Stone walls.
Training grounds.
Even castles.
At first glance, it resembled a kingdom.
But Nakid quickly understood what it truly was.
A clan stronghold.
— So this is what a clan base looks like...
He crouched behind a tree and observed the guards.
The tournament invitation remained tucked inside his clothing.
The event would begin soon.
Thousands of participants were expected to attend.
The top three competitors would receive rewards.
And according to Yoreru, it was the perfect opportunity to enter the wider world.
Nakid narrowed his eyes.
— Walking through the front gate would be stupid.
The guards wore matching insignias.
Fortunately, this didn't appear to be one of the major clans.
He pointed toward an isolated house standing near the edge of the settlement.
— That looks safer.
Without hesitation, he moved toward it.
His plan was simple.
Enter through a window.
Observe.
Leave unnoticed.
Then a calm voice appeared directly behind him.
— What exactly are you doing, young man?
Nakid spun around instantly.
His body entered a defensive stance.
The speaker was a woman.
At least... he thought it was.
Her presence felt strange.
Dangerous.
Yet oddly peaceful.
— Come inside, she said.
I have no interest in fighting a child.
Nakid refused to lower his guard.
— You think I'm stupid? The moment I walk in there, your clan will surround me.
The woman chuckled softly.
— No one can hear us.
A purple aura emerged around her body.
Butterfly-shaped fragments floated through the air.
The world suddenly became silent.
Completely silent.
Nakid's eyes widened.
The sounds of the village vanished.
The guards disappeared from his senses.
It was as if they had been removed from reality itself.
— We are invisible now, she explained.
And inaudible.
Nakid remained cautious.
— Why?
— Because I wish to offer you a choice.
The woman finally revealed herself.
Or rather...
her mask.
A white mask covered her face.
At its center rested a black question mark.
Nakid's pupils contracted.
— MazeBoy...
The woman shook her head.
— No.
Her voice remained gentle.
— I am the Mistress of Choices.
A chill ran down Nakid's spine.
Another masked being.
Another monster beyond his understanding.
— I help people make decisions.
She tilted her head slightly.
— Although the price can sometimes be fatal.
Nakid remained silent.
The Mistress continued.
— My time is valuable.
She stepped closer.
— So I'll ask you only once.
The black question mark seemed to stare directly into his soul.
— Do you want access to information that nobody else can provide?
Nakid hesitated.
Everything about this felt wrong.
Yet everything about it felt important.
— If she's anything like MazeBoy, this could be a trap...
The woman began counting.
— Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
— Wait.
Nakid clenched his fists.
— ...Fine.
The counting stopped.
— I'll tell you everything.
For a long time, Nakid spoke.
He explained his arrival in the Death Realm.
The Skeleton King.
Leslie.
Ysabella.
The Labyrinth.
Yoreru.
His journey.
His goal.
The Mistress listened without interruption.
When he finally finished, she nodded.
— So your objective remains unchanged.
Nakid answered immediately.
— I will bring my mother back.
Silence.
Then the Mistress spoke.
— Abandon that goal.
Nakid froze.
...What?
— If you continue pursuing Leslie, you will regret it.
For the first time, genuine anger appeared in Nakid's eyes.
— After everything I just told you?
The Mistress remained calm.
— If you insist on saving her, then listen carefully.
She raised one finger.
— You must participate in the tournament.
A second finger.
— You must finish in second place.
Nakid blinked.
— Second?
— Not first.
The answer made even less sense.
— Why?
— You aren't ready to understand.
The Mistress folded her arms.
— What matters is that second place grants access to something important.
Her voice lowered.
— A key ingredient.
Nakid's heart accelerated.
— For the resurrection vial?
— Perhaps.
The Mistress turned away.
— There are two paths before you.
She pointed toward the distant arena.
— The first is difficult.
Win second place.
Gather the ingredient.
Continue your pursuit.
Then she pointed back toward the forest.
— The second is simple.
Return to the forest.
Wait.
Nakid frowned.
— Wait for what?
The Mistress smiled beneath her mask.
— You already know your answer.
Before he could ask another question, she disappeared.
The butterflies vanished.
The aura dissolved.
The world returned.
Nakid stood alone.
— What a strange woman...
He looked toward the tournament grounds.
Second place.
An ingredient.
The Skeleton King.
The resurrection vial.
Questions piled upon questions.
But one thing remained certain.
He needed answers.
And the tournament was his next step.
Six days later, competitors and spectators began arriving from every direction.
Thousands of people flooded toward the ruined arena.
Nakid emerged from the shelter he had dug for himself.
Covered in dirt.
Exhausted.
The crowd pushed him aside repeatedly.
Some even stepped on him without noticing.
Nakid winced.
Then instantly healed his injuries.
Far away, hidden among the arriving spectators, someone watched.
A shadow.
A stranger.
Their eyes narrowed.
— A healing ability...
The figure smiled.
— Interesting.