The atmosphere fell into a tense silence punctuated only by whispered doubts and racing thoughts.
"The answer is betrayal," someone finally spoke, voice low yet resolute.
A murmur of surprise and skepticism rippled through the group.
"Is there really something like that happening here?" someone questioned sharply from behind.
Meena's eyes searched the crowd until they landed on a figure who seemed hesitant, almost shrinking beneath their own words.
"Do you know anything about the answer?" she asked quietly, hoping for a spark of clarity.
The man didn't meet her gaze. His voice barely rose above a whisper: "I... don't know."
Unfazed, Meena pressed on, determination sharpening her tone.
"I am a hundred percent sure about this."
The stranger's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but there was something honest there. "I know a place. I can't say for sure if it's the right one. But there's a story—about a betrayal that happened near a leak. A lover betrayed."
Meena's brows furrowed. "Which leak? There are three of them here. Which one do you mean?"
"The one where people come to bathe," he replied quietly.
"No," Meena said, shaking her head, "it's not that leak."
For a brief moment, Meena and Necoluse exchanged a glance.
Their voices joined in unison, steady and sure: "We know which leak. Let's go."
Together, they moved forward, the weight of stories and mysteries pressing down on their shoulders as the forest whispered secrets in the wind.
Mammon and Satan raced through the forest, branches snagging at their robes and the undergrowth crunching beneath hurried footsteps. The shadows beneath the giant trees grew deeper, their path twisting with uncertainty and the pressure of time.
Mammon paused, breath coming in ragged gasps. His black robe, meant to cloak his presence, seemed to shimmer against the dappled light—making him stand out rather than conceal him. He brushed a stray leaf from his shoulder and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, frustration mounting. "Why don't we just ask the elders for a clue?" he suggested, voice low but urgent. The trial and its riddles were beginning to wear his patience thin.
Satan stopped beside him, his eyes gleaming with a sly wit. "We can't ask them directly—they'd never give a straight answer," he replied. Even in moments of exhaustion, Satan's mind worked overtime, always searching for the sideways solution. "But there's another way. If we're clever, we can get what we need without appearing weak." His words hung in the air like an invisible challenge.
Mammon narrowed his eyes, catching the subtle meaning behind Satan's plan. "I get it. For the first time, I feel like you're actually useful," Mammon admitted, reluctant but sincere. There was a faint edge in his voice, a grudging respect. He barked a soft laugh. "Brother, sometimes you surprise me."
Satan flashed a crooked grin, teasing. "That's my job—to keep you on your toes."
With renewed determination, the pair pressed forward, their dark forms slipping between shafts of golden light and tangled roots. The forest pressed in, alive with ancient secrets and the silent watch of hidden powers. Behind them, the distant voices of their group rose and fell, but Mammon and Satan were now set on a new course—one that would draw answers from even the most guarded elder, by wit rather than force.
"Let's go," Mammon said, and they vanished deeper into the mysterious wood, minds turning with schemes and silent anticipation.
Satan and Mammon reached the clearing known as the training center—a place where their group had originally formed. The area lay nestled deep within the forest, a rare glade encircled by ancient trees whose towering branches filtered sunlight into shimmering patterns on the mossy ground. The ruins of old stone pillars and weathered wooden training posts hinted at past lessons, while faint sounds of birdsong lent a fragile peace to the tense atmosphere.Yet, as they scanned the clearing, there was no sign of the elders. No footsteps, no voices, no presence to guide them. Satan's eyes darted anxiously as he searched the shadows between trees, longing for any hint of familiarity or aid. The silence felt oppressive, reminding him just how isolated they truly were in this strange, enchanted forest.Mammon, by contrast, radiated calm resolve. Standing tall and poised, his shapely figure cut a striking silhouette against the green backdrop. His midnight-black robe draped elegantly over his broad shoulders, the subtle shimmer of starlight woven into the fabric catching glimmers with every measured movement. His sharp, angular face was serene, eyes closed briefly as his lips moved in silent incantation, calling forth the ancient forces that lingered in this place.Suddenly, a burst of radiant light erupted between them, swirling into form as a luminous voice echoed through the air:
"First Prince... why have you summoned me? What aid can I offer you this day?"Mammon turned to Simon smoothly and gave a subtle nod—an unspoken signal for Satan to speak.With a steady breath, Simon stepped forward and spoke clearly. "We find ourselves without guidance, and knowledge of this forest's mysteries eludes us. Could you grant us a map? Something to illuminate the path ahead?"The luminous air shimmered again, and a piece of parchment materialized gently in front of them, drifting like a leaf on a breeze. Satan reached out and took it carefully, feeling the weight of unseen power in its fibers."I take my leave," the elder's voice intoned softly, fading as the light dissolved into the dappled afternoon sun.Simon unfurled the map slowly—the lines and symbols shifting subtly, revealing unknown trails, hidden clearings, and cryptic markings that promised both danger and hope.Mammon's eyes gleamed with approval. "Now, we move forward—wiser and more prepared."As they turned to leave the glade, the whisper of the wind through the treetops seemed to echo a quiet promise: this forest held secrets yet to be unearthed, and their journey had only just begun.
Satan and Mammon studied the map with grave focus, their eyes flicking across the intricate symbols and cryptic pathways sketched upon the ancient parchment. The delicate lines twisted through dense forests, winding rivers, and shadowed valleys, highlighting hidden clearings and mysterious landmarks. Every detail seemed to pulse with untold secrets.They exchanged a knowing look—silent but charged with resolve—as if the map itself spoke of challenges yet to come. Without hesitation, they turned and strode purposefully through the undergrowth, the forest echoing with their footsteps.Soon, they reached the waiting figures of Levi, Simon, Lucifer, Devilo, Bluzbub, Blubghor, and Yuki. Relief softened the tension in their eyes as Mammon's voice cut through the murmurs: "It's good that you're here."Satan stepped forward, his glasses catching the faint light as he held up the map reverently. "We found it," he announced, pride and urgency mixing in his tone. "A map of the forest—one we can trust. It marks the places we must visit, the paths we must take."The others leaned in, curiosity and cautious hope spreading through the group. The map's aged parchment seemed almost alive, its ink shimmering faintly as if infused with magic. As they traced the routes with fingers trembling from anticipation, discussions burst forth—hypotheses about terrain, speculation on hidden dangers, and strategies for moving forward.Lucifer grimaced, eyes narrowing on one particularly ominous region. "These markings... they're warnings. This forest holds more than just trees and beasts."Yuki nodded, her face serious. "Understanding this map might be our only chance to survive and win."Simon felt a renewed sense of purpose settling around him, the weight of responsibility lightened by tangible direction. Mammon, standing apart but no less engaged, surveyed the group with a measured gaze, confidence anchoring their fragile hope in the greater mystery of the forest.Together, grounded by the map and their intertwined fates, they prepared to navigate the unknown. The forest waited.