Where No Man Belongs

Malvern walked beside Kane through the palace hall, carrying Nash over one shoulder and Alvis over the other. Both boys were still unconscious. “Let me get this straight,” Malvern said. “This brat is the boy the old baldy died trying to protect.”

Kane did not answer at once. His footsteps continued across the polished floor. “The sole survivor of that village,” Kane said.

Malvern’s expression tightened. “And the Emperor’s target.”

For a moment, Malvern stopped walking. His blind white eyes lowered toward Nash. The boy hung limply over his shoulder, one arm swaying with each step. His black hair covered part of his face, but Malvern could still feel it.

That aura.

The same ominous pressure he had sensed only moments ago.

Malvern moved again. “What does the emperor want with him?”

Kane descended the stairs. “You already have an idea.”

Malvern’s jaw tightened.

At the palace entrance, Alfred stood waiting with his hands clasped behind his back. “Your Majesty. Captain Malvern.”

He bowed with perfect respect, then looked at the unconscious boys hanging from Malvern’s shoulders. “Are Prince Alvis and Nash unharmed?”

“They’re fine,” Kane said. “Alfred, open a portal to the Forbidden Forest.”

Alfred’s eyes widened. “The Forbidden Forest, Your Majesty?”

His gaze flicked toward the boys. “That place is dangerous.”

“Malvern will be with them.”

Alfred lowered his head. “As you command.”

White light gathered before him, rippling into a vertical ring in the air.

Malvern shifted Alvis’s weight on his shoulder. “How is Julia?”

“She’s cleaning the kitchen,” Alfred said.

Malvern winced. “I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be for her.”

“She could clean a thousand kitchens if she had to. She is a hardworking girl.”

Malvern gave a short laugh. “No doubt about that.”

The portal opened fully. White light rippled like water.

“Have a safe trip,” Alfred said.

Malvern stepped into the portal with Nash and Alvis.

The light swallowed them.

For a few seconds, Kane and Alfred stood in silence before the fading glow. Kane’s gaze remained fixed on the place where Alvis had disappeared. “I made a mistake with him,” he said.

Alfred turned slightly. “Your Majesty?”

Kane’s hand curled into a fist. “After Aurora died, Alvis was all I had left. I told myself I was protecting him.”

His voice grew quieter. “But I only taught him that the world ended at these walls.”

Alfred said nothing.

Kane looked toward the closed palace doors. “He accepts me. You. Julia. No one else.”

His eyes narrowed with worry. “If he cannot accept one wounded boy, how will he ever accept an entire continent?”

Alfred’s expression softened. “Perhaps Nash is exactly the kind of person he needed to meet.”

Kane did not answer.

The last of the portal light vanished. “Perhaps.”

Far to the east of Valenharth, at the edge of the continent, the Forbidden Forest breathed beneath a ceiling of twisted branches.

Nash woke to the smell of damp earth.

For a few seconds, he did not move. Something cold pressed against his cheek. His fingers dug into soil that was too wet and too soft. A thin fog crawled over the ground around him, curling between exposed roots like pale fingers.

Then a roar echoed somewhere in the distance.

Nash’s eyes opened.

Above him, trees stretched so high they seemed to hold up the sky. Their trunks were wider than houses, and from different parts of their wooden bodies, white column-like crystal rods jutted out, glowing softly in the dimness like the prismatic crystals that lit the palace hallways at night. Their branches twisted together overhead, blocking almost every trace of sunlight. Between them, enormous mushrooms rose from the ground, their caps pulsing faintly as they breathed out streams of violet smoke.

The air was so thick that every breath tasted of wet leaves, rot, and something bitter he could not name.

A laugh rang out from somewhere deep in the forest.

Not human.

Beside him, Alvis stirred, then sat up with a groan. “Where…?”

A shadow moved between the trees. Then another.

The forest answered with whispers.

Alvis’s face slowly lost color. “Where are we? And where’s Dad and that… old man?”

A voice came from above them.

“I’m already here.”

Nash and Alvis looked up.

Malvern sat on top of a massive rock, one knee raised, calmly eating a grilled strip of snake meat skewered on a stick. The fang necklace rested against his chest. Smoke curled from the meat. Around the rock lay a huge seven-headed snake with one of its necks missing, along with a frog covered in too many eyes. Both creatures were motionless enough that neither Nash nor Alvis could tell whether they were unconscious or dead.

Malvern looked completely at home. “Welcome,” he said, “to the Forbidden Forest.”

Alvis went stiff at the name. “The Forbidden Forest…?”

Nash frowned. The name dragged something from the back of his mind.

A classroom.

Sunlight.

A map pinned to a board.

“So today,” the teacher said, tapping the board with a wooden stick, “we will study geography.”

“Yes!” Arvid clenched his fist. “I like geography!”

“What a nerd,” Leif muttered.

Arvid lifted his chin and crossed his arms with pride. “Knowledge is not something to be ashamed of.”

“Humph. Whatever.” Leif folded his arms behind his head.

At the back of the classroom, Nash leaned forward. For once, he was interested.

The teacher pointed to a continent on the map. “What’s the name of this Continent?”

“Oh! Oh! Me!” Arvid raised his hand so high he nearly left his seat.

“Arvid.”

“That is the Republic of Lykoria.”

“Correct,” the teacher said. “And what is its ruler called?”

Arvid’s hand shot up again. No one else moved.

The teacher looked around the room. “No one? Only Arvid?”

Leif’s pride could not endure that.

He raised his hand.

“Oh?” The teacher smiled. “Go on, Leif.”

Leif stood with complete confidence.

“Sa…”

The class waited.

“Sar…”

Arvid narrowed his eyes.

“Sardin,” the girl beside Leif whispered.

Leif straightened with confidence. “It’s Sardin, teacher!”

Silence.

Then the entire classroom exploded with laughter.

Leif’s face turned red. “What are you laughing at? I’m sure it was Sardin! I read it somewhere!”

Arvid covered his mouth, trembling with silent mockery.

“Just wait until we get out, you bookworm!” Leif snapped.

“Leif,” the teacher said, struggling not to laugh, “sardine is a fish. You meant Sardar.”

“Yes!” Leif pointed at him. “That’s what I said!”

“No, it wasn’t,” Nash muttered.

The teacher clapped his hands. “All right, enough. At least Leif had the courage to answer, even if his answer swam in the wrong direction.”

The laughter continued, but Nash’s gaze had already moved away from Lykoria.

Far to the east of Valenharth, a huge dark shape covered part of the map. He raised his hand.

The teacher noticed him and blinked. “You have a question, Nash?”

Leif and Arvid both turned, surprised.

Nash rarely asked questions in class.

“That place,” Nash said, pointing. “East of Valenharth. What is it?”

The teacher’s smile faded. For a moment, he adjusted his glasses without speaking. “That,” he said at last, “is the Forbidden Forest.”

The room quieted.

“A place where no man belongs.”

The memory dissolved.

Nash stared at the trees around him.

Alvis rose slowly. “Then we’re on the eastern side of the kingdom.” His voice trembled despite his attempt to steady it. “But how did we get here? And why?” He glanced around uneasily. “Lady Julia and Alfred used to tell me stories about this place. None of them ended well.”

Nash looked at him.

Then he smiled.

Not happily.

Sharply.

“I don’t know what brought us here,” he said, rising to his feet, “but it did me a favor.”

Alvis blinked.

Nash turned toward the trees. “I was getting sick of that palace.”

Malvern tore another bite from the grilled snake. “Where do you think you’re going, brat?”

“Not your business,” Nash said.

The fog shifted around his legs as he walked.

Malvern swallowed. “This forest is huge. How are you going to find food? Water? Or even the path out?”

Nash stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “I’m not dependent like the little princess beside you.”

Alvis’s eyebrow twitched. “Still calling me that, you scum?”

Nash raised his fist, and dark crimson aura flickered around it. “I’ll find the way alone. And if anything gets in my way…” His fingers tightened. “I’ll destroy it with my power.”

The words had barely left his mouth when something dropped from the treetops.

A winged lizard.

Its body was long and black, its eyes glowing purple in the dim forest light. A second mouth opened in its stomach, lined with wet fangs that clicked together as it shrieked.

Alvis stepped back.

Nash did not.

The creature lunged.

Dark crimson aura wrapped around Nash’s fist.

He punched upward.

The blow struck the lizard in the chest and sent it crashing into a tree. The trunk shook from the impact. Leaves rained down around them.

The creature slid to the ground and stopped moving.

Nash lowered his fist, then looked at Malvern. “See?”

A second later, the aura engulfing his fist vanished without his command, but Nash did not notice.

Despite himself, Alvis stared.

Malvern only took another bite of snake. “Impressive,” he said flatly.

Alvis brushed dirt from his clothes. “Let him go. If he dies, at least the forest becomes quieter.”

Nash exhaled through his nose. He almost answered.

But that would only drag him into another useless argument.

So he turned away.

“In case you do get out,” Malvern said, taking another bite of snake. He chewed slowly, then swallowed. “What then?”

Nash stopped. “I’ll find the bastard who destroyed my village and kill him.”

“Do you think you can defeat a dragon just because you knocked down one lizard?”

Nash’s fingers curled. “I can summon demons.” He glanced at Alvis. “Ask the princess. He’ll tell you how close he was to pissing himself when I summoned one.”

“No, I wasn’t!” Alvis snapped.

“Hmmm…”

Malvern took his final bite.

Nash walked deeper into the trees.

Malvern tossed away the last bones of the snake and crouched on the rock. “All right,” he said. “Let’s watch.”

Nash continued forward as the fog thickened around his ankles. His footsteps sounded unnaturally clear in the silence.

He stopped and glanced back at Alvis and Malvern.

Idiots. They really think I’d get lost in a forest.

The woods around my village were almost this dense, and I never lost my way there.

He looked up at a tall tree ahead.

I just need to climb high enough to see beyond the trees. If I spot the sea, I’ll head in the opposite direction. If I see open land, I’ll go toward it.

A grin spread across his face.

Piece of cake.

Before he could savor his so-called victory, the ground shifted beneath him.

Nash looked down.

The earth split open.

A mass of slime erupted beneath him.

It was pale green and black, covered in twitching eyes. A mouth large enough to swallow a horse split open across its center, releasing a stench so foul Nash gagged before he could breathe.

The slime wrapped around his legs.

“What the hell—?”

It pulled.

Nash sank to his knees.

The slime climbed higher, cold and sticky, swallowing his waist.

“It reeks.” Nash raised his fist. “Get off me!”

Dark crimson aura sparked over his knuckles.

He swung.

His fist sank into the creature.

For one second, the aura held.

Then it flickered.

Nash’s eyes widened.

The aura thinned, stretched, and vanished into the air around him as if the forest itself had drunk it.

His punch hit nothing solid.

The slime only rippled.

“What…?”

It rose to his chest.

Nash struck again.

No aura.

No force.

Only his bare fist sinking into something wet.

“My magic isn’t working.”

The slime climbed higher.

Nash turned his head toward Malvern. “Did you do something?”

Malvern’s expression did not change. “No.”

The slime reached Nash’s shoulders.

“This forest absorbs mana,” Malvern said.

What!?

The thought struck Nash and Alvis at the same time.

“That is why it is forbidden,” Malvern continued. “Especially for weaklings who mistake anger for strength.”

Malvern smirked.

Each word dug into Nash.

His own voice returned first.

“I’m not dependent like the little princess beside you.”

Then another memory followed.

His fist striking Kane’s back.

“You coward!”

The man had saved him. Carried him. Protected him.

And Nash had repaid him with hatred.

Then came Athelson.

One punch.

That was all it had taken to drop him into the ash.

Nash’s breath shook. It felt as if the slime had become a mirror. Every word he had thrown at others stared back at him.

The arrogance.

The insults.

The rage.

He had thought they were his own choices, but now, sinking helplessly into that monster, Nash wondered if he had only been moving because anger pulled the strings. Because sadness told him where to look. Because hatred gave him something to hold when everything else was gone.

Is that… who I am?

Someone who barks at people who save him…

but can’t even stand before the ones he hates?

Alvis stared at him.

He still disliked Nash, but the bitterness tightening in his chest no longer felt like hate.

“You said you could summon demons. Good. Where are they now? I don’t see any,” Malvern said.

Nash froze.

“This is the real world you intended to face alone—a world that would crush a little boy like you.”

Malvern’s voice remained calm. “So, what now? Swallow your pride and ask for help?”

The slime’s mouth widened.

“Or die here?”

Nash’s breath caught.

Die?

The word hit harder than the slime around his body.

He punched again.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

“Get off me!”

His fist sank into slime.

“Get off me, damn it!”

The creature only pulled him deeper. The smell filled his nose. Cold pressure crushed his ribs. His legs could no longer feel the ground.

Nash’s eyes shook.

No.

He still had to kill Athelson. He still had to avenge his mother. He still had to make that dragon look at him and understand what he had taken.

The slime rose past his throat.

Athelson’s red eyes flashed in his mind. His mother’s hand reached toward him.

Flames swallowed her.

Nash’s breathing broke.

“What’s the point…?”

His voice came out small.

“What’s the point if I die here?”

The slime touched his chin.

His pride cracked.

“I…”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want to die!”

Alvis froze. He had heard that fear before, years ago, when he was younger. For a moment, the forest disappeared, and he was standing outside Kane’s office again, tears in his eyes.

“Dad…”

Kane opened the door immediately.

Alvis clutched the front of his nightclothes. “I had a nightmare about Mom.”

Kane’s expression softened.

Alvis tried to speak, but the words came broken. “I heard her crying. She was calling for help.” His lower lip trembled. “Is she in danger? Where did death take her?”

Kane knelt and pulled him into his arm. “Your mother is somewhere far away,” Kane said softly. “Somewhere pain cannot reach her.”

“But she seemed alone.” Alvis tightened his grip on Kane. “Death is scary.”

His voice became a whisper.

“I don’t want to die, Dad.”

The memory vanished.

Alvis moved.

His body acted before his pride could stop him.

He rushed forward, grabbed the back of Nash’s shirt with both hands, and pulled with all his strength.

Nash slipped free from the slime’s grip and hit the ground outside its reach.

But the slime’s body snapped around Alvis instead.

The prince was pulled in up to his waist.

Nash pushed himself up, coughing. “Hah? You idiot!”

Alvis grimaced as the slime tightened around him, then forced a smile.

“Heh. My dad really did bring home a crybaby.” His gaze stayed fixed on the creature, the smile doing little to hide his fear.

Nash stared at him.

Alvis grabbed the slime with both hands, struggling to hold it back. “It’s hard to admit, but back in the garden, you told that thing to stop when it tried to attack me.”

The slime rose higher.

“So no matter how much I hate you, I won’t let you die in front of me.”

Malvern finally stood.

He rolled his neck from side to side, loosening the stiffness. A small smile touched his face. “Finally!”

In the next instant, he appeared beside the creature.

Nash barely saw him move.

Malvern drove one hand into the slime’s body. A faint current of wind followed the motion.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the creature burst apart.

Its body scattered across the trees in wet fragments. Pieces struck trunks, rocks, roots, and smoking mushrooms before sliding down with squelching sounds.

Alvis fell forward, coughing.

Nash stared.

Alvis stared.

Malvern shook slime from his hand with disgust. “Ugh. That smell is criminal.”

Nash’s mouth opened slightly.

That monster had almost killed him.

Malvern had destroyed it with one hand.

He looked down at Nash. “So.”

Nash flinched.

“That was your revenge?”

Nash lowered his gaze, his jaw tightening.

“One slime almost ended it.”

Malvern’s voice lost its teasing edge. “Even the strongest…” He turned his blind eyes toward Alvis. “… needs a friend.”

Silence settled between them. The slime fragments twitched across the forest floor.

Malvern looked at Alvis next. “And you.”

Alvis wiped slime from his sleeve and glared. “What?”

“For a sheltered little prince, you moved well.”

Alvis blinked. It was not praise exactly, but it was not an insult either.

Malvern continued. “People don’t follow a crown. They follow a king who cares.”

Alvis said nothing.

Malvern stretched his shoulders. “You two are both idiots. Different kinds, but idiots all the same.”

Nash’s eyes twitched.

Alvis’s eyebrow twitched. “Wait,” Alvis said suddenly.

Malvern turned.

“You’re blind?”

Nash stared at him. “What?”

Alvis pointed at Malvern’s eyes. “You’re actually blind?”

Malvern slowly tilted his head. “Yes. Did the white eyes and scar not explain enough?”

Alvis crossed his arms. “So the white part meant blindness, not old age.”

Malvern froze.

A vein rose on Malvern’s forehead. “For the millionth time…” His scream shook the nearby mushrooms. “I AM ONLY IN MY THIRTIES!”

A distant monster roared back.

The slime fragments began crawling toward one another. Wet pieces dragged themselves across the dirt, slowly reforming.

Malvern looked down. “Time to leave before that thing pulls itself together.”

He stepped forward. Nash hesitated, then followed.

Alvis walked after them, brushing slime from his clothes with visible disgust.

For a while, no one spoke. The forest shifted around them. Roots twisted beneath the fog. The mushrooms breathed smoke in slow pulses. Every few steps, Nash thought he heard something moving just outside his sight.

Finally, he glanced sideways at Alvis. “Never thought I’d be saved by royalty again.”

Alvis lifted his chin. “A future king must protect the weak.”

Nash’s eyes narrowed. “You little…”

He stopped.

Then clicked his tongue. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

Alvis blinked. For a second, he seemed unsure what to do with the words.

Then he looked away. “You’re welcome.”

The silence after that was awkward.

Very awkward.

Malvern smiled to himself.

Alvis’s attention shifted to the glowing crystal rods jutting from different parts of the tree trunks. Their cold white light shimmered faintly through the fog.

“Those crystals…” He narrowed his eyes. “They look like the ones that light the palace hallways at night.”

Nash studied them as well. Now that Alvis had pointed it out, the resemblance was unmistakable.

“That’s because they’re the same,” Malvern said.

Alvis turned toward him. “The palace crystals came from this forest?”

“They did.”

Alvis’s eyes widened slightly. “Then who brought them to the palace?”

“His Majesty, a long time ago.”

Alvis blinked. “Dad came here and collected them himself?”

Malvern tilted his head. “Did I say it in another language?”

Alvis ignored the remark and glanced at the enormous trees surrounding them. “But this place is dangerous.”

“Dangerous, yes,” Malvern said. “Just not dangerous enough to threaten His Majesty, I suppose.”

The unease left Alvis’s face. He let out a small laugh, a faint smile forming on his lips. “Dad is so cool.”

Nash stared at the excitement of the boy beside him. Deep down, he agreed, though he would never admit it aloud.

After a moment, Alvis looked ahead again. “By the way, old man, where exactly are we going?”

Malvern’s finger twitched. “Out of this forest, hopefully.”

“Hopefully?” Alvis repeated.

Nash frowned. “You don’t know?”

“I know plenty.”

Malvern stepped over a root.

Then his shoulder struck a branch.

He stopped.

Nash and Alvis stared at him.

Malvern slowly turned his head toward the branch.

That was wrong.

He should have sensed it.

Malvern’s smile thinned.

Tch.

The forest is interfering with my perception more than expected.

Alvis leaned closer to Nash and whispered, “By the way, how does he see?”

“I don’t know.”

Malvern resumed walking. “I see through mana,” he said.

Alvis frowned. “What does that even mean?”

A faint smile returned to Malvern’s face. “Everything leaves a shape inside it.”

He stepped over a root. “But in this forest, mana isn’t as stable as it is outside.”

His fingers brushed against the bark of a nearby tree as he passed.

When Malvern first stepped into the forest with the unconscious boys, he had scratched shallow marks into several trunks along the route he took. He knew better than to trust his mana perception completely in a place that swallowed and distorted mana.

But this tree had no mark.

Neither did the next one.

Malvern’s steps slowed.

That made no sense.

The marked trees should have been here.

Unless he had misread the path.

Or unless those trees were no longer the same trees.

Alvis looked ahead, then remembered something. “Wait. If we’re on the eastern edge of the kingdom, the ocean should be close, right?”

Nash’s eyes shifted. “The ocean?”

“You’ve never seen it?”

“No.”

Alvis looked almost offended. “Then we should go see it.”

Malvern did not slow down. “No.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not on a—crap!”

Malvern’s foot sank into mud. He pulled it free. “We’re not on a vacation!”

“Please.”

“No.”

“I am the prince. I order you to take us to the ocean.”

A hand caught Alvis by the ear.

“OW! OW! OW!”

Malvern dragged him forward. “Can’t you shut up for five seconds and let me focus on not getting us killed?”

Nash covered his mouth. A small laugh slipped out anyway.

Malvern released Alvis. “Besides…”

He stopped.

Nash’s smile faded.

Alvis rubbed his ear. “What?”

Malvern turned slowly, his blind eyes moving across the trees around them. His fingers tightened.

Not one mark.

Not a single one.

“Am I imagining things, or…”

The forest was silent.

Too silent.

“…or have more trees grown around us?”

Nash’s chest tightened.

Alvis stepped closer without realizing it.

Behind two trees, two pairs of eyes opened.