Chapter Six: Old Master, You’ve Started!

“Dragon Knight? Do you possess such power, little one…”

Tana lifted her head, flicking her silky hair back with a playful smirk as she tapped her smooth chin, a trace of amusement flickering across her brows.

She was a dragon who had lived for centuries, her strength even surpassing that of the slovenly Linus next door. Over the years running the inn, any troublemakers who dared to cause problems were swiftly thrown into the dark forest to be fed to the goblins.

Now, this fledgling little creature intrigued her, but no matter how you looked at it, he was still far too inexperienced.

Of course, his pastries were delicious…

Not only sweet in taste, but they also seemed to restore vitality and magic. How did he manage that?

“Whether you have the ability or not, I’ll leave the door open for you tonight. You’ll find out for yourself, won’t you?”

Such a teasing, mature woman naturally prompted a fierce response. Nightlin’s gaze grew commanding as he reached out and lifted Tana’s chin.

His fingertips were smooth and delicate to the touch.

“I’m looking forward to it. Perhaps you’ll be the one who makes me willingly wash the sheets. But for now, you’re still a bit too weak.”

“You’ll pay the price for that…”

Nightlin smiled confidently, reaching into the box… Huh?

Weren’t there supposed to be five strawberry cakes? Why were they all gone?

No one would refuse a piece of delicious dessert, whether before or after a meal.

Since Tana had eaten half the bread, he hadn’t had enough. He wanted a piece of cake to satisfy his sugar craving.

“Sorry, the desserts at Elven Frontline are mostly just sugar or sugar-coated biscuits. Wild strawberries exist, but fresh cakes are rare.”

Celia swallowed the last bite, a bit embarrassed as she looked at four empty plates before her.

Tana ate one piece, and the rest had all vanished into her belly.

Celia’s eyes darted around, avoiding direct gaze, seemingly shy about having secretly eaten the other three cakes.

But in truth, it wasn’t that. She was afraid Nightlin might suddenly ask for money for the remaining cakes.

No one could ever get money from Celia!

“Well, it’s alright.”

Nightlin reassured her. He still had tens of thousands of strawberry cakes in his backpack — clear evidence of his in-game purchases…

“That won’t do!”

Tana objected from the side, pulling Celia’s small face close and wiping the cream from the corner of her mouth before waving it teasingly in front of Nightlin.

“How about it? Want some? It’s Celia’s~”

A provocative smile played on Tana’s lips, her triumphant eyes nearly drifting to the sky. Little one, you’re still too green!

She had noticed that despite Nightlin’s boastful manner, his attitude toward Celia was complex and puzzling.

Sometimes his gaze was filled with joy when looking at her, but other times it was strange — almost like when dealing with adventurers who owed debts.

What on earth?

“I still have plenty of cake, but… tomorrow’s share is yours…”

“Tch~”

Tana pouted, adhering to the principle of no waste, and once again dipped her cream-covered finger into Celia’s mouth.

“Nightlin, can you help me find out what’s really going on inside the Grand Forest? I can’t shake this uneasy feeling.”

Having eaten her fill, Celia finally brought up the serious matter — the anomaly within the Grand Forest.

“Hm, can’t Tana just go? She’d crush it all the way through.”

“No.”

Tana shook her head decisively. “The Dark Forest is filled with muddy swamps, dead branches, and a pungent stench. It’s filthy.”

“Until we figure out what’s wrong, neither Celia nor I will step in.”

Well, even a centuries-old dragon was still a little neat and tidy young lady.

“Alright, I’ll go check out the Dark Forest tomorrow.”

Nightlin already knew where the problem lay — deep within the Thunder Ruins, a group of zombies led by the “Grave-Thief Bone Prison” were wreaking havoc.

However, the Dark Thunder Ruins were deeply hidden, and their exact location remained unclear without a more precise map.

The next morning, with the sun just rising,

after bidding farewell to Celia and Tana, Nightlin hoisted his battered katana and crossed the Elven Frontline toward the Grand Forest.

The Elven Frontline was once a stronghold built by the elves, who crafted rain shelters from hollow trees arranged in clusters, exquisite and elegant.

But after the great fire, the elves vanished, and these hollow tree houses had almost disappeared.

Behind the inn, Celia and Tana still had two nice hollow tree houses — their private spaces.

Within the Dark Forest, even after many years, traces of the great fire remained visible along the way.

Massive trees burned halfway through, strange blackened boulders, and various ruins were common sights here.

After ten years of natural recovery, the Grand Forest gradually regained its former glory — lush greenery, towering verdant trees, and a myriad of rare and exotic flowers and herbs, some possibly precious alchemical plants.

Tough vines clung to the branches while the calls of birds and beasts filled the air.

Yet the elves of old had disappeared, replaced by rampant goblins, mutated and vicious cat demons, and minotaurs.

Nightlin swiftly ended the life of a goblin with one strike and silently crouched among a thicket, concealing himself.

The goblin population in the Dark Forest had clearly increased; minotaur warriors were no longer rare, and even some mutated, differently colored goblins had appeared.

They could wield rough magic — flowing fire sand or ice spikes.

Adventurers had to be especially cautious.

Ahead stood a small hut made from branches and scraps of cloth, inside which faint, low shapes moved.

“One, two, three — five goblins in total.”

Nightlin nodded — not many, so manageable.

The moment he stepped out from the bushes, the goblins inside the hut, as if catching a whiff of blood, grabbed their spiked wooden clubs and crude iron tools, and frenziedly charged through the thorns toward him.

“What the hell!”

Nightlin was momentarily stunned. Goblins were fierce, but he had never seen ones with bloodshot eyes this wild and frenzied!

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened — a nearly imperceptible black smoke drifted from one of the goblins.

Could it be…?

“Old man Luke, you’ve begun again…”

The Black Nightmare was a special energy created by Luke, the Ninth Apostle, to reconvene the energy of light.

Any life touched by the Black Nightmare would awaken like red-eyed berserkers, losing all reason and becoming ferocious and bloodthirsty.

Now, the old man had begun gathering the energy of Arad’s light, preparing to transform once more from his frail form into the four-armed giant of light, awakening the Ora Ora barrage.

No, no — the ruler of Hebron, the emperor of light and darkness!

P.S. Loran lies a bit north of the Elven Frontline, while the Grand Forest is to the southwest. Due to the terrain, Loran is considered the gateway to the Grand Forest.