Immortal Paladin

088 Lost Again

The forest was a land of decay. The trees stood tall but lifeless, their bark blackened and twisted, as if scorched by an unseen fire. Withered leaves clung stubbornly to gnarled branches, rustling like dry whispers in the stagnant air. The ground was a graveyard of rot—moss-covered bones of fallen trees, tangled roots that curled like fingers, and a thick, unshakable smell of damp earth and decay.

Joan and Alice trudged through the desolation, the former gripping her staff with barely concealed irritation while the latter lazily strolled ahead, arms behind her head.

“This is your fault,” Joan snapped, shattering the silence.

“My fault?” Alice scoffed, turning on her heel to glare at Joan. “You were the one who said, and I quote, ‘Let’s take the narrow path. It feels safer.’”

“And who was it that insisted on backtracking when we saw those creepy masked people? Oh, right—you!” Joan shot back.

Alice smirked, flashing her fangs. “Excuse me for not wanting to be skewered by cultists.”

Joan groaned, rubbing her temples. “Great. So now we’re lost. Again.”

Alice huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not like we had a map to begin with, priestess. What, do you expect divine intervention to show us the way?”

Joan shot her a glare but didn’t reply. She hated to admit it, but they had been wandering in circles. The twisted trees all looked the same, and the eerie quiet made her skin crawl. Worse, they weren’t alone. The vampire-wannabes and masked figures had been hunting them for days, never getting too close, but never giving up either.

“At least,” Alice continued, “we haven’t run into anything stronger than that serpentine dragon. And even that was just a big, dumb lizard.”

Joan tightened her grip on her staff. “That ‘big, dumb lizard’ could command storms and use lightning magic.” And maybe it was only her who was remembering, but weren’t they support specialists?

Alice waved dismissively. “Details.”

Joan sighed, trying to focus. They needed a plan. Between the two of them, they had decent odds of survival, but there was one fundamental problem:

“Whose bright idea was it to pair a priestess and a vampire?” Joan muttered under her breath.

Alice’s grin widened. “Oh, you wound me. I thought we made a great team.”

Joan shot her a dry look. “If by ‘great team’ you mean we constantly bicker and attract trouble, then yes, we’re perfect.”

Alice laughed. “Well, at least we’re not bored.”

A distant howl echoed through the dead forest. Both of them immediately tensed.

“…Tell me that was the wind,” Joan said.

Alice licked her lips, her fangs glinting. “Nope. And I think we just found our next problem.”

In front of them was an apparition, a ghost.

The ghost wept before them, a translucent figure of a woman barely clinging to the fabric of this world. Her form flickered like a candle struggling against the wind, her long, tangled hair obscuring most of her face. A thick rope was wrapped around her neck, dragging her forward through the air—yet no one was pulling it.

It was a reenactment of her final moments.

Alice crossed her arms, tilting her head at the sight. "Well, that’s creepy."

The woman sobbed, whispering words neither of them understood.

Alice turned to Joan, an impish grin forming. "Go on, priestess. Console the poor soul. Do your holy woman thing."

Joan rubbed her temples, already exhausted. "Alice, we’ve been walking in circles for hours. We're trapped in this cursed forest. The least we can do is try talking to the ghost."

Alice gave an exaggerated groan. "Sure, let’s have a heartfelt conversation with the wailing specter we can't even understand. Sounds productive. Remember? Language barrier?"

Joan sighed and pointed at the skull strapped to Alice’s waist by a linen rope. "That’s what he’s for. Isn’t he?"

Alice scowled, resting a hand on the skull’s smooth, weathered surface. The thing had been their unwelcome companion ever since they had sheltered in a cave to escape a storm. That was where they had encountered the fragment of a powerful vengeful spirit—an ancient being who, surprisingly, spoke their language.

It had tried to kill them, of course.

But after a particularly heated battle and a lot of creative problem-solving, they had sealed part of it into this skull. For some reason, though, the strange interaction between their powers and this world's system had warped it into something… different.

The spirit had turned into a lich.

Still, it was useful, so they kept it—after thoroughly grinding its original body into ash and layering seal after seal on what remained of his skull.

The problem was… it was insufferable.

Alice scowled. "You really want to wake him up?"

Joan gave her a look.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Fine." She muttered a brief incantation, lifting the sleeping curse she had placed on the spirit.

The skull shuddered. Then, with a burst of eerie blue flames, two pinpricks of ghostly light flared within its empty eye sockets.

"BEHOLD, FOOLS!" the spirit bellowed, its voice deep and dramatic. "YOU HAVE ONCE MORE SUMMONED THE GREAT—"

Alice immediately slapped a hand over its mouth. Not that it had one, but she wasn’t in the mood for theatrics.

"Get to translating," she grumbled. “You piece of shit.”

The skull squirmed in her grip. "Unhand me, vile temptress! A creature of such divine beauty should not mar her fair hands by grasping a lowly skull such as I!"

Alice sighed. "He's in one of his moods again."

Joan pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just tell him to translate the ghost’s words before I shove him back in a bag of shit for another month."

Imagine.

Two beautiful women resorting to vile language.

That spoke of just how insufferable the skull was…

The skull grumbled but reluctantly turned its attention to the weeping apparition. The blue flames flickered as it listened, absorbing the ghost’s sorrowful tale.

The ghost continued to weep, her translucent form shaking with each sob. The rope around her neck remained taut, dragging her spectral body forward despite there being no visible force pulling it.

The skull hummed in amusement. "Ah, the poor thing must have died by hanging. But… where’s the tree?"

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Joan frowned at the observation, scanning their surroundings. The forest was filled with blackened wood and withered leaves, but none of the twisted trees bore any sign of a rope or a broken branch where one might have hung. It was as if the execution had taken place without any physical support.

Alice, however, simply shrugged. "Who cares?"

The skull let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, such a lack of curiosity in the minds of today’s youth… Well then, allow me to take the lead!"

He turned his eerie blue gaze toward the weeping woman and spoke in a deep, smooth voice. "My dear, your sorrowful cries pierce even the void! You must have been an exquisite beauty in life. Would you, perhaps, care to—"

Joan clenched her fists and fought the urge to cast Turn Undead right then and there.

Alice snickered at her expression. "Tempting, isn’t it?"

"Painfully so," Joan muttered before an idea struck her. She turned to Alice. "Can’t you use one of your Charm spells on him?"

Alice crossed her arms, contemplating it for a moment before sighing. "Tried it before. Didn’t work. Turns out, he has ridiculously high resistance. Either that or he’s just too obnoxious for the spell to take effect."

Joan groaned. "Of course."

With a dramatic cough, the skull finally turned serious. "Now, now, let’s get to business. The weeping woman… she cries out for an answer." His ghostly flames flickered. "She wails: Why… why did they abandon me… in the Black Forest?"

Alice raised a brow. "That’s… a little too on the nose for the forest’s name, don’t you think?"

The skull chuckled, but there was a malicious edge to the sound this time. "Oh, you haven’t even begun to hear the true horrors of this place." His voice dropped to a whisper, making the air around them feel colder. "This forest is a grave. A prison. A trap. You will never leave. You will wander and wander until the trees claim your mind and your bodies rot into the soil."

Joan and Alice exchanged glances.

Then the skull continued with a lecherous snicker. "However… if you were to show me your bountiful mounds, I might just consider lending you my vast wisdom."

Alice’s expression darkened. "Oh, you’re done talking."

Before the skull could even react, she cast Pain Amplification on him.

The ghostly flames within the skull's eye sockets flared violently as it screamed in agony.

Joan immediately followed up with Bless.

Normally, Bless was a spell meant to bolster allies with divine power. But against an undead creature?

It worked like a purification spell—inflicting debilitating debuffs.

The skull let out another shriek, smoke rising from its surface as holy power burned through its very essence.

"Y-YOU WRETCHES! MERCY! MERCYYYY!" it wailed, twisting in Alice’s grip.

Alice gave Joan a smug look. "Now that’s how you deal with an annoying undead."

Joan merely sighed, adjusting her gloves. "Now then… how about we try this again? Properly. Or do you want me to bless you a second time?"

The skull groaned, his ghostly blue flames flickering weakly. Even after being blasted with Pain Amplification and Bless, he still retained enough resistance to stay intact. Good. If he had crumbled too easily, Joan and Alice wouldn’t have been able to resort to such… persuasive methods.

The floating skull grumbled, "You know… you could’ve just asked me."

Alice hummed in agreement. "He has a point. If he knows this place, maybe he actually knows a way out."

Joan crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "And what would the cost be?"

The skull giggled in an unsettling way. Then, it started breathing heavily.

Joan’s skin crawled. "Wait. How are you even— You don’t have lungs!"

Alice, meanwhile, just gave her a flat stare.

Joan gulped. "W-What?"

Alice’s stare shifted—no longer flat, but something worse. Pity.

Joan took a step back. "What?! Why are you looking at me like that?!"

Alice sighed, shaking her head. "Joan, I have seen many things in my long life, but I have never met someone so… naïve, stupid, and innocent all at the same time."

Joan’s eye twitched. "Excuse me?"

Alice gestured at the still-muttering skull. "We could just torture the information out of him. But now, thanks to you, he thinks he has bargaining power."

The skull perked up. "Indeed! If you wish for my wisdom, you must fulfill my desires!"

Joan shuddered. "And that’s exactly why I didn’t want to just ask him!"

Alice groaned, rubbing her temples. "I take it back. You're not just naïve, you're hopeless."

Joan huffed. "And what would you have done?"

“Like I said,” Alice smirked, "Tortured the information out of him. Of course, we then have to tolerate his blathering. But that’s a small price to pay."

Joan opened her mouth to argue but hesitated.

Alice’s smirk deepened. "Ah, but you’re worried about ‘torture of the soul,’ aren’t you?"

Joan looked away. "…It’s bad."

Alice’s eyebrow twitched. "But it’s fine to blast him with Bless just to vent?"

Joan coughed, turning her head. "…It was only once. That’s different."

The skull, gleefully watching their exchange, cackled. "No, no, no! You must fulfill my wishes if you want me to cooperate! I am a man of refined tastes, after all!"

Alice shot Joan a dry look. "See what you did?"

Joan sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Fine. I admit it. I was wrong. And my hypocrisy is bad."

Alice tilted her head. "Hypocrisy might be too much."

Joan raised an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it?"

Alice shrugged. "Mild stupidity?"

The skull interjected, "Ladies, please! Less bickering, more chest—"

Alice immediately blasted him with Pain Amplification again. “Die, piece of shit.”

"This is going to take a while, isn’t it?" Joan sighed and rolled her shoulders before raising her hand again. A soft glow gathered around her fingertips as she prepared yet another Bless spell. Beside her, Alice lazily flicked her wrist, sending another Pain Amplification onto the floating skull.

Blue flames flickered wildly in the skull’s empty eye sockets as it shuddered in her waist. But instead of agony, it let out a loud, obscene moan.

“Ohhh~ Yes! More! Don’t stop now!”

Joan froze mid-cast. Alice’s hand stopped mid-motion.

The two exchanged a glance.

The skull shuddered again, giggling. “I knew you two were the perfect mistresses of pain. Come, let’s make this suffering last forever—”

Alice dropped her arm, cutting off her spell. Joan did the same.

Silence.

The skull’s flames flickered. “Wait. Why’d you stop?”

Joan’s face twitched. Alice clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Nope. That’s it. Sleeping curse.” Joan suggested, “Do it, Alice.”

The skull shrieked in panic, twisting in its restraints. “No, no, no! Anything but that! I’ll behave, I swear!”

Alice gave Joan a knowing look, and the priestess sighed before lowering her hand. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll leave you awake, but only if you promise to cooperate and—” she narrowed her eyes “—shut up.”

The skull hummed to itself, rocking slightly as if weighing its options. Then, with a wicked cackle, it said, “How about a trade? Show me your undergarments, and I’ll tell you all you need to know—”

Alice’s mana flared. The air around them trembled.

The skull instantly shrank back. “—I mean, I was joking! Just a joke! I’ll talk! No need to be so violent!”

Alice lowered her mana, but her glare remained sharp. “Then talk.”

The skull rattled slightly before its eerie blue flames steadied. “Very well. Listen carefully, mistresses of pain. This place—the Black Forest—is a domain of the Abyss Clan. The masked pursuers chasing you? They’re from the same group.”

Joan crossed her arms. “And?”

The skull continued, “They have a spell—an ancient technique—that allows them to transport people into this forest. You didn’t wander here by accident. You were dragged into this cursed place.”

That explained why no matter how far they walked, they kept ending up in the same damn place.

Joan took a deep breath, her fingers pressing against her temple as she fought back her frustration. "Alright, then tell us—how do we get out of here?"

The skull hummed, its blue flames flickering in thought. "Ah, escape? Now that is a tricky thing..."

"Just answer the damn question," Alice snapped, already looking impatient.

The skull let out a low, rattling chuckle. "Unfortunately, I know of no way out. This place… it is not merely a forest. It is a dimension grafted from another plane of existence, a small world of its own. The Abyss Clan created this space and merged it with the real world. You're not just lost in a physical forest—you're trapped inside their domain."

Joan’s expression darkened. "That explains why my Mass Teleport isn’t working…" she muttered. She had been trying to teleport them out since they realized they were lost, but every attempt failed. Now she knew why—it wasn’t just distance keeping them trapped but an entirely different layer of reality.

Alice scoffed, crossing her arms. "So in other words, you're useless." She raised her hand, ready to cast a sleeping curse.

"Wait! Wait! I can still be of use!" The skull rattled violently in its bindings, panic clear in its voice. "I can tell you about your pursuers! I think I have an idea… of their motivation."

Alice lowered her hand slightly. "Spill."

The flames in the skull’s sockets flared as it spoke. "The black porcelain masks inscribed with blood scriptures were the signature attire of the Abyss Clan’s elites. They excel in formations, umbramancy, and all manners of dark arts. They are a symbol of fear within the Deepmoor Continent. However, what intrigues me is why they are so persistent in chasing you. They aren't just trying to kill you; they want you alive. That at least, I can tell."

Joan and Alice exchanged glances.

The skull continued. "The Abyss Clan is based in the Deepmoor Continent. And yet, they’ve gone through the immense trouble of sending their people all the way to Stormcall Continent to hunt you down. That is no small effort."

Joan frowned. "You were asleep most of the time when they were chasing us. How do you know all this?"

"Ah, my dear priestess, I listen. Even when I sleep, I can hear things. And I heard them murmuring their curses, their orders… their intent."

Joan tapped her fingers against her arm. "Then tell me, oh wise and perverted skull, why are they so obsessed with us?"

The skull cackled. "Oh, I don’t think they care about you, priestess." It twisted slightly in its restraints as if turning toward Alice. "They’re after her."

Joan blinked. "Alice?"

Alice’s expression darkened. "Tch. Of course, they are."

The skull’s flames flickered in amusement. "A powerful demonic cultivator with secret arts… like yours. How could they not want you? Perhaps they covet your bloodline, your knowledge, or the forbidden techniques you carry. Whatever the case, you, my dear lady of the night, are their primary target."

A heavy silence followed.

Alice sighed. "Well, that’s just great."

Joan exhaled sharply. "So what do we do now?"

The skull chuckled again. "If you wish to escape this place alive, there is only one option."

Alice narrowed her eyes. "And that is?"

The skull’s flames flared. "You wait for your captors. Then you capture them instead."