Once the two of them regrouped, their earlier contingency plan naturally became irrelevant. Perhaps because the bear Duncan had blinded was still injured—and the one tracking from behind didn't dare to press too aggressively—the distance between pursuer and prey quickly widened. As the sounds behind them faded into the forest, Duncan finally released a long breath. No one wanted to be targeted by a heavy tank—especially a heavy tank that seemed to come with an intelligent targeting system.
They ran in silence. Every scrap of attention was poured into staying alive: Bell took point, clearing the way and watching the left side for sudden attacks, while Duncan brought up the rear, guarding against threats from behind and to the right.
Even if the bear's rampage had driven away most of the nearby monsters, Duncan refused to relax. It would be too cruel a joke to survive a lord-class beast—only to get dragged down by some ordinary monster at the finish line.
Time slipped by. They'd set out in the morning; the sunlight had turned from gentle to scorching, then softened again as evening approached. Warm light dusted the Tree Sea in gold—a picture that would look beautiful to an outsider. To Duncan, it only made his expression heavier.
It was already late afternoon. Soon, night would fall.
And night was an adventurer's natural enemy—especially now. Their spare torches had been destroyed back at the camp. What they still had packed in their luggage wouldn't last past midnight, and it was far too late to make more. The bears' appearance had shredded every schedule and preparation Duncan had built, dropping him back into the helplessness of months ago—when he'd had no real field experience.
Their one hope was that the ruins would work the way he thought they would—driving monsters away. If not, tonight would be a long, brutal ordeal.
They didn't move quickly. After being outplayed once, Duncan no longer underestimated "simple" monsters. In his mind, a territorial lord should have been solitary—yet there had been two bears.
Had monsters learned "teamwork makes the dream work"? Were those two really a male and female pair? Did monsters even have sexes like ordinary beasts?
With those absurd thoughts spinning in his head, they finally reached a massive boulder that served as a landmark. From here, the clearing where the ruins stood was close.
"We're almost there," Bell said, exhausted.
After half a day spent in high-alert tension, even a momentary drop in vigilance caused fatigue to crash down twice as hard. This was supposed to happen only after confirming safety—but the sight of the marker made Bell relax instinctively.
Fortunately, the last stretch remained quiet. Before the final rays of sun vanished, they emerged at the edge of the clearing.
"We're—here…?"
Bell's words died in his throat.
The empty clearing was just as barren as before—yet the ruin that should have stood in the center of that lifeless land was simply… gone. As if it had never existed at all.
"How…? The ruins… disappeared?"
Bell stared, whispering in disbelief.
"Don't go in yet," Duncan said sharply.
This time, he grabbed Bell and stopped him from stepping into the clearing. He crouched, inspected the soil, then pulled out two magic stones they'd collected earlier and tossed them onto the ground inside.
Something uncanny happened.
The dark-purple stones trembled faintly on contact—then shrank at a visible rate… until they vanished completely.
"?!" Bell froze.
Duncan's eyes narrowed, the pieces clicking into place.
"Just as I thought. This land absorbs monster magic—no… maybe not just that. It might even be draining magic from the surrounding earth, and that's how it repels the Tree Sea's encroachment. That's why the trees keep their distance."
"But when we went in before," Bell said, voice tight, "we didn't feel our magic draining."
"I don't know the exact mechanism," Duncan admitted. "Maybe it doesn't reject humans—only monster-type magic. And the gray-white powder that used to cover the ground is gone too. The ruins disappearing might have something to do with that."
He stood, looked toward the center—where the ruin had once been—and saw only bare brown soil. The light was thinning quickly. After a slow inhale, he stepped into the clearing.
Nothing happened. No sudden siphoning of his energy.
Maybe his guess was right: whoever had arranged this place—whether to ensure the shrine received worship or for some other purpose—the land didn't reject human beings. A forbidden zone for monsters…
…but for Duncan and Bell, it might be the closest thing to a safe haven they'd ever find out here.
Cautious to the end, Duncan didn't let Bell enter immediately. He ordered Bell to remain outside and keep watch while he moved quickly to the center.
There was nothing. No warped vision. No illusion hiding the structure.
The ruin hadn't been concealed—it had been erased.
That kind of phenomenon wasn't something a skill or spell should be able to produce.
Duncan had been in this world for nearly half a year now. He understood the basics: adventurers were strong, yes, but still within a "superhuman" framework. They still needed food and water. Their skills tended to be physical in nature. This world wasn't built on the sort of godlike "authorities" from web novels.
Zeus had mentioned certain rare skills that were branded "mysterious" due to their unique effects—but even those shouldn't be able to do something this fundamentally irrational.
If anything, the more plausible explanation was that there was some kind of magic circle or barrier beneath the land—something carved by divine power, capable of producing bizarre effects.
With no answers found and night nearly on them, Duncan waved Bell in.
No matter what, they couldn't camp inside the forest after provoking a territorial lord. Those bears weren't like common monsters: their speed was comparable to his, their strength and mass utterly overwhelming. A nighttime attack from something at that level was a nightmare Duncan refused to even imagine.
They dropped their packs and split tasks. Bell unpacked the camping gear and torches, working fast before darkness fully settled. Duncan, spear in hand, went to the edge of the clearing to gather burnable wood.
Thanks to the sharpness of his weapon, he chose a tree and hacked—casually, efficiently—until a trunk thick enough for an adult to embrace became clean segments of firewood. He hauled the pieces back into the clearing, again and again.
Before long, flame blossomed.
After who knew how many years, the fire of civilization rose here once more—piercing the darkness that had begun to fall.
And for the first time all day, as the light spread across their improvised camp, the dread knotting Duncan and Bell's hearts loosened… just a little.
....
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