Chapter 25: The forgotten Succubus
The light from the seventh floor’s door enveloped Erik.
The sensation of teleportation lasted only a few seconds. When the blue-silver light receded from his vision, the first thing Erik felt wasn’t the familiar cold stone floor, but a layer of soft earth sinking slightly beneath the soles of his shoes.
A very different scent flooded into his nostrils.
Damp earth.
Rotting leaves.
Tree bark.
Along with the smell of green grass after a rain.
Erik instinctively gripped the Gale Thunder Spear tight, but after surveying the surroundings, the hand on the shaft gradually relaxed.
The seventh floor was completely different from the six before it.
There were no longer any gloomy stone corridors or cold blue magic lamps. Before him was an ancient forest so vast that its end was nearly impossible to see.
Towering old-growth trees dozens of meters tall grew close together, their outer bark covered with green moss and climbing vines. Their canopies interlocked high above, blocking out most of the sky, leaving only clusters of pale yellow light to slip through the gaps and fall to the ground.
Fine motes of dust drifted in those shafts of light.
A few leaves from above slowly spiraled down.
Further away there was even the very faint sound of running water, blending with birdsong along with the rustle of leaves in the wind, giving this trial floor that should have been dangerous an eerily peaceful feeling.
A notification panel appeared before Erik’s eyes.
[Seventh floor.]
[Area: Forsaken Forest.]
[Objective: Find the gate leading to the eighth floor.]
That was all.
Erik raised an eyebrow slightly.
The sixth floor had nearly gotten Elowen seriously injured, yet this floor was so quiet it felt like a resort.
He didn’t let his guard down because of that.
After checking the glasses and confirming there were no dangerous heat sources nearby, Erik stowed the spear on his back and began moving deeper into the forest.
He hadn’t walked even two hundred meters when his steps slowed.
Between the tree trunks ahead, a small hut appeared.
Without looking closely, it would be easy to mistake it for a pile of rotting lumber left behind.
The four walls were assembled from mismatched planks, many areas already turned gray-black from soaking in rain for far too long. One corner of the roof had caved in, propped up with two thin tree trunks. The gaps between the wooden planks were large enough for light to pass straight through.
A cracked wooden basin sat in front of the door.
Beneath the eaves were a few bundles of damp firewood.
Beside them was also a small basket, inside which were only several wild fruits of various colors, most of them still green.
Erik looked at the hut for a few seconds.
Only one assessment came to mind.
A gust of wind slightly stronger than normal would probably be enough to knock it down.
But very quickly, Erik’s attention was drawn to the person standing in front of the hut.
It was a woman.
She stood beneath the shade of a tree, one hand bracing a wooden staff nearly as tall as her body.
Her hair, which had originally been a very beautiful blonde, was now a tangled mess, many locks sticking together from grime, hanging all the way down to her waist. On her body was an old set of gray clothing, torn in many places. The remaining fabric was covered in dirt, dried leaves, along with stains that had accumulated for a very long time.
Both eyes were covered by a layer of gauze bandage that had yellowed to a grayish hue.
The skin visible on her arms, neck, and legs bore a great many scars.
Some had healed long ago.
Some had only just closed.
A few small wounds on her ankles even had dirt and bits of crushed leaves stuck to them.
She wore no shoes.
Her two bare feet stood directly on the cold, damp earth.
The moment Erik took another step, the woman immediately turned her head toward him.
Her entire body tensed.
The hand gripping the staff clenched tight.
"Who?"
The voice was very hoarse, as if she had gone far too long without speaking to another person.
Erik stopped a few meters away, not wanting to make a woman who had lost her sight feel threatened.
"I’m a trial participant."
The woman didn’t react right away.
Several seconds passed.
The hand gripping the staff began to tremble very faintly.
"A... participant?"
"That’s right."
"You cleared the sixth floor?"
"Mm."
The woman lifted her head slightly.
The eyes beneath the bandage clearly couldn’t see Erik, but her face was still turned directly toward the source of his voice.
"You’re a man?"
Erik raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Is there a problem with that?"
The woman didn’t answer that question.
She stood motionless for a very long time, as if trying to determine whether the voice before her was real or just another hallucination that had appeared after too many years of living alone.
In the end, her left hand slowly reached into her clothing.
Erik noted the movement but had no intention of being overly on guard.
After a moment, the woman took out a bronze key covered with a layer of greenish-gray patina.
She held the key forward.
"Take it."
Erik stepped closer and accepted it.
"What is this?"
"The key to the gate leading to the eighth floor."
The woman tilted her head slightly to one side.
"Head east for about three kilometers. There’s a stone gate there. Use this key to open it."
[Received: Forsaken Gate Key.]
[Distance to objective: 3,214 meters.]
A pale blue route immediately appeared on Erik’s glasses.
Just by following the guide, he could very quickly find the gate.
Erik stored the key in his pocket.
The woman heard the metallic sound disappear and seemed to understand that her only task had been completed.
She slowly withdrew her hand.
"You should go."
"When it gets dark, the path will be harder."
Having said that, the woman braced on her staff and turned toward the hut.
Erik remained where he stood.
...
Outside the Trial Space, the secret group chat that had gone quiet also quickly produced new messages.
[Madam Ravia: Is she an NPC?]
[The Sleepless Madam: She doesn’t look like one.]
[Madam Ysera: Wait a moment.]
Ysera’s message appeared, then went silent for quite a while.
[Madam Ysera: I’ve seen her before.]
[Madam Ravia: Where?]
[Madam Ysera: In the old records of my clan.]
Another person immediately reacted.
[Madam Lilith: Blonde hair, eyes covered, Forsaken Forest...]
[Madam Lilith: It’s Felyn.]
The moment that name appeared, a number of people in the group instantly went quiet.
Meira also straightened up slightly.
Felyn.
Fifty years ago, that name had been famous to the point that nearly all the great clans knew it.
In the old photographs, Felyn had long blonde hair that nearly reached her waist, gleaming under the light as if coated in a layer of honey.
Amber-golden eyes.
A mature, beautiful face that always carried a cold air.
The attire Felyn usually wore consisted of white dresses with exquisitely embroidered golden patterns, making her look like a noblewoman stepping out of an old-world painting every time she appeared.
A great many men had once wanted to pair with her.
But Felyn had refused them all.
Because she was strong enough to choose her own life.
Then the Insect Tide appeared.
Millions of insect monsters poured out of the Gate, sweeping through many defensive zones. When the last line was about to be breached, Felyn had used a forbidden power to stop them.
She succeeded.
The price was her eyes.
Her aptitude was nearly destroyed.
Her strength plummeted from that of a top-tier genius straight down to Rank F.
And on her body remained a curse that, to this day, still had no known method of treatment.
After that battle, Felyn vanished.
Most people assumed she had died.
[Madam Ravia: She’s been here for fifty whole years?]
[Madam Lilith: Probably so.]
[The Sleepless Madam: Has no one ever reached the seventh floor?]
After a while, Ysera sent one line.
[Madam Ysera: How many men actually bothered to push past the sixth floor?]
The group chat instantly fell silent.
For the first five floors, participants could still use resources and tools.
But from the sixth floor onward, all consumable combat items were sealed. Most men, already accustomed to being protected by Succubi, would almost never risk their lives just to trade for an extra ten percent of the Awakening Fruit’s completeness.
Five floors was enough to open the Heaven Gate.
So stop there.
That was the choice of nearly everyone.
And precisely because of that, for all these years, the seventh floor had almost never had a visitor.
And Felyn just stayed here.
One year.
Ten years.
Then fifty years.
...
Erik didn’t know any of that.
He only watched the woman before him slowly brace on her staff and head back toward the hut.
The staff tapped against the ground.
Tap.
Tap.
Every step was very careful.
A small stone lay in her path.
Felyn didn’t see it.
The toe of her foot caught the stone and her body immediately lost its balance.
Erik stepped forward almost on reflex, one hand catching her arm.
Felyn startled.
"I..."
"Careful."
Erik bent down and kicked the stone aside.
Only at this point did his gaze clearly take in her feet.
There were a great many cuts.
The skin on the soles had thickened from going barefoot for far too long.
A few toes even had small cracks where the blood had already dried.
Erik was silent.
He then looked at the basket of green fruit, the cracked water basin, along with the pile of damp firewood beside the hut.
A faint tightness appeared in his chest.
In his past life, Erik had once been a successful businessman.
But before that, he had also grown up in an orphanage.
He knew the feeling of having to wear the same set of clothes for another year because there was no money for new ones.
He knew the feeling of watching other children get picked up by their parents on holidays while he was still sitting by the window.
He even knew the feeling of having a fever yet staying quiet, because he didn’t want to bother the caretakers who were already too busy.
After finding success, Erik had donated a great deal of money to orphanages along with charitable organizations.
Not because he liked the reputation.
Only because he knew just how terrifying deprivation could be.
Especially the feeling when a person had no one standing on their side.
Erik looked at Felyn.
"Do you want to leave this place?"
Her body immediately went still.
The wind blew through the canopy, and a few yellow leaves spiraled down between the two of them.
Felyn turned her head back slightly.
"What?"
"I’m asking if you want to leave here."
Silence blanketed the forest.
Felyn didn’t answer.
The hand gripping the staff gradually clenched until the knuckles turned white.
A long while later, she faintly shook her head.
"I can’t."
"Why?"
Felyn’s voice was very soft.
"My aptitude is only Rank F now. My eyes are gone too."
She lowered her head.
"I can’t fight, and even walking I need someone else’s help. If you take me out, I’ll only be one more person you have to look after."
Felyn paused for a moment, then as if remembering something, hurriedly added:
"I eat very little."
Her cracked, dry lips pressed together.
"But... I still have to eat."
"So just go."
Erik looked at her for a very long time.
A woman who had lived here for fifty years.
When someone asked whether she wanted to be taken away, the first thing she worried about was that she would cost someone else food.
Erik stepped forward.
The sound of dry leaves crackled underfoot.
Felyn immediately tensed.
"Don’t come closer."
"I have a curse on me. I don’t know whether it can affect others."
Erik still took one more step.
Then he took hold of her hand.
Felyn instantly froze, the staff in her hand nearly falling. Her hand was abnormally cold, the skin rough, her fingertips full of calluses, and in the center of her palm there were a few small cracks.
But Erik’s hand was very warm.
He gently wrapped around those ice-cold fingers.
Felyn trembled faintly.
"Did you... not hear what I said?"
"I heard you."
"Then why are you still touching me?"
Erik looked at her.
"If I’m going to take you with me, at the very least I need to be able to hold your hand."
Felyn was completely stunned.
Erik gently took the staff from her hand and set it aside.
"I’m not asking how strong you used to be, and I don’t care that you’re only Rank F now."
His voice held not a trace of pity.
It was simply as if he were saying something very ordinary.
"I’m only asking you one more time."
She startled.
"Your name."
The woman was silent for a few seconds.
Then said very softly:
"...Felyn."
"I’m Erik."
He squeezed her hand a little more gently.
"Felyn, do you want to leave this place?"
This time she couldn’t so easily say "no" anymore.
Because Erik’s hand was still holding hers.
Warm.
Steady.
Very real.
Fifty years.
Felyn had forgotten what it felt like to have someone hold her hand.
Her lips trembled.
A single drop of moisture slowly spilled past the edge of the gauze bandage, running down a dust-covered cheek.
"...Yes."
Just one word.
But her voice nearly shattered.
Erik smiled.
"That’s enough."