CHAPTER 442: FOREST TRAP

Vergil stood motionless before the silent vastness of the Black Forest at the End of the World.

The sky above was a blanket of thick clouds, interspersed with strands of purple light that snaked like silent thunder. The forest ahead stretched out like a sea of living shadows—the trees twisted into impossible shapes, and a dense mist undulated between the trunks as if breathing on its own. Each breath of wind carried with it an earthy, ancient scent, like the smell of a world that refused to die.

Vergil kept his eyes fixed on the boundary between the last trace of magical civilization and the beginning of chaos. His fingers gently caressed Zuri’s head, which was wrapped around his neck like a living necklace — a white snake with emerald-green eyes, its scales reflecting the light like antique porcelain.

"Why were you hiding?" he asked in a low voice, almost as if he didn’t want to break the silence that hung over the forest.

Zuri didn’t answer right away. She stood there, silent, feeling the wind. Her forked tongue protruded from time to time, tasting the mana-laden air. When she finally answered, her voice was not heard, but felt — a presence whispering directly into Vergil’s mind, like a thought that was not his own.

"I need to get stronger."

Vergil frowned slightly. There was something about that answer that bothered him, something deeper than simple ambition. The way Zuri said it... cold, almost too determined.

"You’re already strong enough," he murmured, still staring at her seriously. "And even if you weren’t, you don’t need to overdo it. If anything threatens you, I’ll protect you."

Zuri turned her head to face him. Her emerald eyes fixed on his with intensity, as if each syllable were a weight laden with something she didn’t want to name.

"Don’t say things like that."

Vergil was silent for a moment. Not because he had nothing to say, but because there was truth in that sentence. It prevented him from seeing Zuri as just a spirit connected to him—there was pride, pain, and perhaps even fear there. And that made him treat her with the same delicacy with which he touched an ancient sword: with respect and caution.

He smiled slightly, lightening the mood.

"All right... no sentimental promises." He ran his hand over his neck, as if to adjust his concentration. "So... what should we do? Where do we start?"

The forest answered before she did—not with words, but with a distant murmur, like a thousand voices whispering at once behind the trees. It wasn’t threatening, but it wasn’t welcoming either. It was as if the forest was waking up... and recognizing his presence.

"The forest is alive," said Zuri, still in her mental voice. "It doesn’t like outsiders. It will try to devour you, deceive you, absorb you."

"Well... that sounds like a typical hellish ’hello.’"

Zuri wrapped herself a little tighter around him, her eyes now half-closed, as if she wanted to hide from what was coming—or perhaps prepare herself.

"You have to make it recognize you. You need to show it that you belong to it... or that it belongs to you."

Vergil pondered. In times past, he would have entered the forest with his sword drawn, cutting everything down until the demons accepted him by force. But here it was different. Myr’varenn — the forest as the ancients called it — was something older than the very Hell in which it grew. Brute force was not enough.

"Selene spoke of a pact," he said. "She said there was a soul in here. As if the forest were a single being."

Zuri nodded with a soft hiss.

"It’s more than one. There are many. Ancient spirits. Some were never human. Others were forgotten gods, trapped in roots and mud. But there is one... a core. A heart. An ancient sleep at the center. That which all the others serve."

Vergil took a deep breath. This was much more than a territory to be conquered. It was an entire spiritual realm, with rules that no modern demon fully understood.

"Then let’s go to that center. That heart. If necessary, I’ll strike. If not, I’ll talk."

Vergil said this with the confidence of someone who faces any enemy head-on — be it an army, a dragon, or a goddess. But the forest in front of him did not react. No dramatic thunder. No mysterious roar. Just the distant rustling of leaves that seemed to laugh softly.

Zuri, curled up on his shoulder, slowly raised her head. Her green eyes shone with something between caution and pity.

"It’s deeper than you think." The voice snaked through his mind like cold smoke. "I think we can say that... there’s a Spiritual Matrix in here. One that distorts space, time, your sense of direction, and, well... your sanity, if you’re not careful. If you want to reach the center of the forest on foot, it might take you a few years."

Vergil froze for a second. He frowned, leaning forward as if waiting for a punchline to be revealed at the end.

"What do you mean... a few years?"

Zuri lazily wrapped herself around his neck, leaning blasé on his collarbone.

"Did you forget what Selene said? She predicted a thousand years, remember? It wasn’t dramatic hyperbole. It was literal. This forest is a labyrinth with a life of its own. Once you enter... you stay."

Vergil blinked slowly. "Stay how long?"

"A thousand years, if you’re dumb. A hundred, if you’re smart. Ten, if you have a deal with the Devil and the Devil is in a good mood."

"So that’s it? I’m stuck?" He looked around with a semi-irritated expression. "I’m stuck in a magical thicket with a bad personality?"

"Basically."

Zuri stretched her neck and continued in a tone that was too casual to be comforting.

"Why do you think Sapphire always uses teleportation? Or rather... why do you think everyone with any sense does that? No one comes here for a stroll and leaves walking as if they had visited a park."

"But you come here all the time."

"Yes. Because I’m a spirit snake and I have alternative routes. And also because I’m smart and I’m not a stubborn demon with a protagonist complex."

Vergil crossed his arms. "Then explain to me why Selene can walk out."

Zuri was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke, it was in a slow tone, as if she were choosing her words carefully.

"She doesn’t leave. The forest accompanies her. There is an ancient bond. A pact strong enough to bend the rules. You... don’t have that. Not yet."

Vergil let out a deep sigh and looked again at the living trail in front of him, now with much less enthusiasm.

"So basically... I walked into a cursed temporal minefield and now I’m an interdimensional tourist waiting for a chance to get out alive."

"Welcome to the Black Forest at the End of the World," Zuri hissed with a mental wink. "Sponsored by despair, bad decisions, and an ecosystem with a god complex."

The ground beneath his feet shook slightly. Something deep down seemed to laugh.

Vergil took a deep breath. "Okay. Let’s assume I decide to ignore common sense and continue."

"You decided that as soon as you woke up today, so don’t feign surprise."

"Is there any chance of... I don’t know... breaking this matrix?"

Zuri hesitated. "Theoretically, yes. But you would have to either: one, merge with part of the forest; two, deceive the spirit guardians until they recognize you as an exception; three, make the forest love you."

"...The forest to love me?"

"Yes. Like a possessive girlfriend. If it likes you, it will make way for you. But if it doesn’t... well, it will keep you here forever. As decoration. Or fertilizer."

Vergil stared at the thick, living fog in front of him. "So the plan is: go in, don’t die, convince a millennial forest entity to like me, don’t go crazy with the temporal folds, find a core that may not even exist, and try to get out without turning into moss."

"That’s a good summary."

"...Zuri?"

"Hm?"

"You could have mentioned that before we went in here, right?"

Zuri gave a mental chuckle that sounded dangerously cute.

"I tried. But you were busy thinking you were so cool."

Vergil rolled his eyes and started walking, stepping carefully on the living trail that writhed under his feet. The forest seemed to watch his every step. Branches bent silently, leaves moved without wind, and in the background... something howled, very low and very close.

"Great. First step: survive this damn tutorial in this forest with a soul. Then we’ll think about pleasing the root gods."

"That’s the spirit!" Zuri said excitedly. "Now hurry up, before this trail changes its mind."

...

As Vergil disappeared into the mist of the living trail, the door to Selene’s house creaked softly as it closed on its own, leaving a subtle trail of magic crackling in the air. Silence returned to the circular hall—but it was brief.

Selene, still standing before the table covered with scrolls, turned slowly. Her sharp, silver gaze landed directly on Ada, Katharina, and Roxanne, who remained there, perfectly at ease. Roxanne examined one of the green candles as if it were an unstable work of art. Ada refilled her goblet with a crimson wine that was clearly no ordinary wine. And Katharina organized some mental maps in a golden hologram floating above her palm.

The witch let out a shallow sigh and raised an eyebrow with aristocratic boredom.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked, her voice cold as broken glass. "The boy has already gone to the slaughterhouse. I expected you to have gone with him, at least out of solidarity or, I don’t know... guilt."

Ada didn’t bother to answer right away. She just raised her goblet in a slow, lazy toast before taking another sip. It was Katharina who spoke first, adjusting the magical light of the map between her fingers.

"We’re waiting for our mothers."

Selene blinked slowly. "...Are you going to repeat that with more context, or are you going to pretend I know what you’re talking about?"

Roxanne replied with a slight smile, twirling a ring on her finger with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Our mothers. Literally. The ones who gave us life. They’re coming in with us."

Selene crossed her arms slowly, staring at the three with half-closed eyes. "Right. And why didn’t you go in with Vergil? It’s not like he took an army with him."

Katharina sighed, as if the question were childish. She unfolded the map with a gesture and turned to the witch with a sober expression—but slightly amused.

"Because it’s hard work to keep up with him. There’s always a monster, a curse, a big problem, a dumb villain, or an entire forest that wants to devour his soul."

Ada nodded in agreement, wiping the rim of her glass with a silk handkerchief.

"It’s exhausting. Have you ever seen anyone more prone to attracting trouble than him?"

"Maybe Sapphire," Roxanne commented with false modesty.

Katharina continued, serious now:

"So let’s use this opportunity to do what’s smart. Train, improve, understand the terrain. And, of course... when he inevitably falls into a deadly trap or is about to be consumed by some entity, we dramatically step in, save him, and... earn love points."

She said this with an angelic smile, as if explaining the logic of a chessboard.

Selene blinked slowly again. Then she walked to the corner of the room, picked up an antique crystal glass, filled it with a liquid that definitely looked like poison, and drank it silently.

"You guys are completely insane."

"Well, we were raised by Madwomen," Ada murmured, swirling the glass again.

"Evil genetics and maternal influence," added Roxanne, waving it like a toast.

Selene watched the three with a look that bordered on clinical study.

"And you really think you’re going to survive in there?"

"I think we’re going to have fun," said Katharina.