Chapter 212 – Proof (2)
The Fruit of Fate.
This wasn’t something that had appeared in the novel.
It was a completely unfamiliar term to me.
That meant it had to be one of two things:
Either I truly didn’t know about it, or it never existed in the first place.
Since both possibilities were equally plausible, I refrained from making any hasty judgments.
“If you eat the Fruit of Fate, your destiny will be bound to the witches.”
I fell silent, carefully weighing my options.
Bound by fate…
That didn’t sound like a good thing.
“Does that mean if the witches disappear, I die as well?”
“You’re sharp. So, will you eat it?”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then the proposal for you to become a disciple will be void.”
“I need to master Spirit Arts to uncover the secret of the Millennium Tree. And for that, I must become her disciple.”
“Well, you won’t have any trouble learning. We won’t acknowledge you, but we’ll choose to remain silent.”
“An implicit approval?”
“You could see it that way—or not.”
Medeia’s gaze was calm, but there was an unfathomable depth within it.
It felt as if she could see right through me.
I found it difficult to hold eye contact for too long.
“You have already delved too deep into the witches’ society. You’re already halfway bound to our fate. Even if Natasha hadn’t made the proposal, this fruit was always meant to be given to you.”
“And if I refuse the fruit?”
“You may refuse. If that is your choice…”
No.
Despite her words, this felt like an extremely important decision.
If it were a minor matter, Natasha would have been the one to bring the fruit.
But the one who handed it to me was Elder Medeia herself.
The leader of the witches had personally come to deliver it.
Why?
‘I can’t avoid this.’
I reached out and took the fruit.
What exactly was this fruit?
What did she want me to see through it?
After a brief hesitation, I took a bite.
The tartness was nothing like an apple.
A strange sensation quickly spread through my body.
[You are sensing sorcerous energy.]
Reto, my spirit, immediately detected the foreign energy entering my body.
Just as Medeia had described, this was a curse disguised as a bond, marking me as someone who shared fate with the witches.
At that moment, Reto proposed an alternative.
[There’s no need for you to take this curse yourself.]
That was true.
I wasn’t alone—Reto was another being residing within me.
He had already absorbed the Curse of the Divine, neutralizing it.
This curse, too, would mean nothing to an immortal like Reto.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have hesitated to let him take it.
But before making my decision, I asked Medeia a question.
“This awful-tasting fruit… Is it given to all who become the witches’ friends?”
“…You could say that.”
I stared straight into Medeia’s eyes.
This time, I didn’t look away.
Her face, deeply lined with wrinkles, revealed nothing.
Her gaze was unreadable.
She had said that even without eating the fruit, the Dortas wouldn’t oppose me becoming Natasha’s disciple.
But then, why…?
A moment later, my heart began to pound.
[It’s coming. I’ll take the curse.]
Hearing Reto’s voice, I made my decision—and shook my head.
“No. This is mine to bear.”
[You idiot.]
Ignoring Reto’s grumbling, I accepted the sorcery into my body.
Soon, a blue mark began to form on the back of my left hand.
Was this the mark left by the Fruit of Fate?
As I blankly stared at the mark, Medeia suddenly burst into a chuckle.
“…Why are you laughing?”
“Because now, I no longer have a reason to kill you.”
…Huh?
Kill me?
“…You were planning to kill me?”
“What? Does that surprise you?”
Tapping her staff on the ground, Medeia turned and began walking away.
I hurried after her.
“But I ate the fruit!”
“The important thing is the mark. If it hadn’t appeared, you would have been executed sooner or later.”
“…The mark?”
“The mark only appears on those who accept the sorcery themselves. Your spirit—Reto—has the ability to absorb curses in your place.”
“Ah…”
Lily must have told them about Reto.
That meant Medeia already knew the curse could have been redirected to him.
“…So, the Fruit of Fate was…”
“What nonsense. Just some random fruit I found on the way here. It wasn’t even rotten, was it?”
This… damn old hag.
“Then why put me through this test?”
“Lily has opened her heart to you. Natasha wants to take you as her disciple. Once those two decide to trust someone, they don’t question it again. Foolish witches, really.”
Medeia slowly turned to face me.
“Keros is the same. The guardian of the Ghostly Forest now follows you. If you so desired, he might even guide humans through the woods.”
“That’s…”
“Soon, you will learn the Millennium Tree’s secret. And we witches have no way of confirming whether it is true or false. We simply have to trust you. Even if that trust is misplaced.”
“Isn’t that terrifying? That the fate of the forest could depend entirely on one human’s whim?”
“…Is that why you made me eat the fruit?”
“We cannot entrust the witches’ fate to someone without the courage to share it. This test was necessary—to determine what should be done with you in the future.”
“…This situation is exactly what people mean by ‘being hit by lightning out of nowhere.’ And what if I had chosen to let Reto take the curse?”
“Then I would have had to console Lily first. She’d be crying, after all.”
Medeia extended her staff, pressing the tip lightly against my forehead.
The moment it touched me, a violet light spread across my skin.
A moment later, a small insignia was engraved onto my forehead.
[Friend of Witches]
As soon as the staff was removed, I felt a shift within my spirit.
[Reto detected it immediately.]
[Your vessel has grown larger.]
“…Welcome to the friends of the forest.”
“…I’m not happy about this.”
“You are not bound by the laws of witches. But you may claim any benefits the witches enjoy. Consider it a gift given to our friends.”
“…Are there any other ‘friends’?”
Medeia let out a bitter laugh and shook her head.
“There were.”
Past tense.
[How did you know?]
“…Know what?”
[That this was a test, and that the curse wasn’t real.]
As I stood there watching Medeia’s retreating figure, Reto’s voice rang in my head.
It was rare for him to ask questions first.
Even he hadn’t foreseen this situation.
“…Because I’ve never heard of anyone feeding such a disgusting fruit to their friends.”
[Friends?]
I already knew that the witches once had a friend.
And that they had been betrayed.
That betrayal led to the Massacre, forcing the witches into exile in the forest.
So I understood why Medeia had tested me.
My presence had grown too large—and she needed certainty.
“Being endlessly suspected because of some other guy’s mess…”
I cursed under my breath, recalling the man who was once a friend of the witches—Arcane, the Prophet of Fate—before heading back to the cave.
The moment I arrived, Natasha rushed over and immediately checked my forehead.
Seeing the mark of friendship, she beamed and gave me a thumbs-up.
“See? I told you, I have a good eye.”
“…Don’t tell me—you planned this?”
“Huh? You mean the Fruit of Fate? That thing was a jackpot! It got unanimous approval from all the Dortas in one go!”
Damn it. Should I just flip the table and leave the forest?
Her bright, innocent smile made it impossible for me to get mad, even though her idea had nearly gotten me killed.
“Here, take this.”
She casually tossed a bracelet my way.
Now that I was officially her disciple, she handed over her spirit conduit, something as valuable as her own life, without the slightest hesitation.
[Once they open their hearts, they don’t doubt anymore.]
Medeia’s concerns made a lot more sense now.
The bracelet was unexpectedly heavy, seemingly made of solid steel.
As I fiddled with it, lost in thought, I decided to reintroduce myself properly.
“My name is Arthur Clayton.”
“Huh? You’re telling me your real name?”
“You already knew Alex was an alias, didn’t you?”
“Of course. Everyone in Dortas knows. We just didn’t ask because Lily said your name was ‘special.’”
“…A disciple should at least share his real name with his master.”
“Well, if that’s how you see it…”
She shrugged, running a hand through her hair, but from her expression, she seemed oddly pleased.
“Listen up. Until I tell you otherwise, you cannot take off the bracelet. Not during spirit contact training, not when learning Quanru, not while eating, not even when sleeping.”
“What kind of training is this?”
“Think of it as sensitivity training to feel spirits. You’ll understand what it is as time passes. I’ll explain it properly then.”
After tapping her fists together a couple of times, she simply told me to rest before skipping away toward the cave.
That light step of hers…
She looked way too happy—and it wasn’t because of me.
It was because of the toys waiting for her inside the cave.
“…It’s already that late?”
Looking up, I realized the sky had brightened.
Meeting Keros and Medeia in the forest had taken longer than expected.
Morning was coming.
And that meant—
“Ah, a witch!!”
“Crap! It’s the crazy one! Run!!”
“KAHAHAHAHA!!!”
Elton and his team, who had finally recovered, were about to become Natasha’s punching bags once again.
“Ghhhhaaah! S-Shit! Call the captain! Get the captain!!!”
Beyond the forest, I could hear Carl’s desperate screams.
They were looking for me, but I casually ignored them.
I examined the bracelet in my hands before finally letting out a sigh and sitting on the ground.
Natasha had told me to train in front of the cave starting today.
Training to establish contact with Reto…
I closed my eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—today would be different.
***
Three Days Later
“Damn, this doesn’t feel right.”
“…Wait, you’re stopping?”
“Tch. Unfortunately, this is where it ends.”
“UWAAAHHH!!”
Three days after I received the Bracelet of Gereflam, for the first time—
A cheer echoed from the cave instead of screams.
It was the cheers of the ghosts.
Since all the witches had started calling Elton’s group “ghosts,” even I ended up referring to them that way.
When Natasha finally declared the end of their training, they walked out of the cave for the first time.
The clothes they had originally worn were now in shreds, making them look like beggars.
But their faces…
They looked like men who had achieved enlightenment, basking in the joy of transcendence.
Just the fact that they had left the cave seemed to fill them with unparalleled happiness.
“…After a few days of rest—”
“WE’RE LEAVING IMMEDIATELY!!”
“PLEASE SEND US OUT! I BEG YOU!”
I had planned to let them rest before assigning their missions, but Elton immediately grabbed me by the collar, shaking me violently.
Even someone as usually composed as him was freaking out—which meant their training must have been absolute hell.
Well, considering they had to endure both the training of the dead and being Natasha’s personal sandbags, it was no surprise.
Even so, Elton still hadn’t reached 5-star rank.
However, it was clear that he was right at the threshold—the gap between him and the other 4-star ghosts was undeniable.
He just needed the right trigger to reach 5-star.
“Elton, your foundation is solid now. Just find the opportunity.”
“…I’d rather ‘find’ you first.”
“Please put the dagger away.”
I gave him an awkward smile and waved an assignment letter in front of him.
Nine ghosts, including Elton, were scheduled to leave the forest.
I planned to assign all of them to targeted information-gathering, except for one, who would act as a messenger between me and Elletor Fortress.
Their mission was to observe key individuals up close and track their movements.
A highly dangerous task—but one that only the ghosts, trained in ghostwalking, could handle.
Their targets included:
Kamel, Arcane, Rengua, Lyon, Wiley, and more.
“If you go to Elletor Fortress, the Black Rose will inform you of what they need.”
One by one, the ghosts read their mission details before silently disappearing into the forest.
No one tried to stop them.
They had completed the training of the dead—they could now roam freely within the Witches' Forest.
Ordor Forest was no longer a threat to them.
Once the messenger who would travel between me and Elletor Fortress was assigned, only Elton remained in front of the cave.
He finished reading the assignment letter, then looked at me with a puzzled expression.
“…Why don’t I have a target?”
“Elton, you’re not going downward—you’re going up.”
Not to the southern part of the forest—
But north.
Elton’s mission was to gather intelligence on Demtor, located in Hell Grime.
“But I don’t know anything about Hell Grime.”
“An escort will arrive in a few days to take you. Stick with them and learn about Hell Grime first. Only then can you gather intel on Demtor.”
“…Who’s the escort?”
“His name is Samuel Barber—a well-known courier in Hell Grime. There’s no one more familiar with its geography than him.”
Elton, who had been desperate to leave, let out a sigh and quietly sat down on a rock.
He immediately understood how critical his mission was.
None of his comrades were familiar with Hell Grime’s terrain.
He would be the scout—
A role that could determine the success or failure of their mission.