Chapter 555: Chapter 553 Witch Forest
Yatis!
After leaving the abandoned Black Stone Graveyard and conducting an extensive investigation, Richard figured out what “Yatis” actually was.
Yatis was a place na, to be precise, it was the Holy Land of the “Jungle Hut” Wizard Organization.
The Jungle Hut Wizard Organization was not unfamiliar to Richard, located to the southwest of Florence, distinguished by sapling brown robes as their identifying attire. He had once co into contact with a girl, Narlyd Clark, who displayed exceedingly high moral values and was a mber of this organization.
According to the information he had gathered, the Jungle Hut differed from other Wizard Organizations. Instead of being a highly centralized power like the White Stone Tower, it was more like a loose federation, resembling the Mo’er Alliance.
Located within the Witch Forest, there were about a dozen settlents in a circular distribution. Each settlent consisted of nurous wizards and Wizard Apprentices, each independently autonomous, nominally unified as a whole. The so-called Holy Land of Yatis was located in the deepest part of the Witch Forest, encircled by the dozen settlents.
Reportedly, this was to ensure that Yatis could be guarded by all the inhabitants of the Jungle Hut settlents. Hence, it was incredibly difficult for outsiders to approach the Holy Land—even for mbers of the Jungle Hut—without special circumstances. Forcibly approaching would involve facing the wrath of the Holy Land’s mysterious guardians and the attacks of many Jungle Hut Wizards—just thinking about it was terrifying.
Yet, Richard was not afraid. At that mont, he was following his prearranged plan, attempting to enter one of the Jungle Hut settlents in the Witch Forest.
…
Cold rain drizzled relentlessly, chilling to the bone.
The sky was gloomy, as if stained with ink, heavy like lead blocks. Occasionally, flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the heavens and the earth.
On the gray land, sinister trees sprouted abruptly—this was the Witch Forest.
Venturing deeper, one would notice that every tree in the forest seed abnormal. Tree trunks twisted, branches entwined, greyish-white bark split open, and when soaked by the rain, resembled gaping mouths in agony—each tree seed like a monster that had spasd to death, pinned to the muddy ground, exceedingly bizarre, exceedingly insane.
Evil, shadowy, and strange atmospheres mixed with the damp cool air, spreading around. The cold wind carried ghostly wails, the sound sharp as a woman’s long fingernails scraping across one’s eardrum, painfully sharp to the ear, startling a cold sweat out of anyone.
Continuing deeper, a rugged path appeared in the forest, winding towards the distance. On either side of the path, wild grasses flourished, occasionally giving way to carved-out farmlands. The fields were planted with early-ripening red pumpkins, interspersed with detestable, soggy scarecrows.
In the fields, the early-ripening red pumpkins, mostly piled up like small hills, were partly rotten, emitting a sour stench. There were also so—placed by soone unknown along the roadside or on branches, suspiciously hollowed out and carved into skulls—then filled with flas. From a distance, each pumpkin resembled a grinning Dark Elf, staring with a pair of blood-red eyes, full of sinister intent toward any approaching person.
Richard walked through the forest amid an odd atmosphere, accompanied by quite a few people—over thirty in total. A large portion of them were teenagers, with a few young adults in their early twenties occasionally seen among them.
These were the students who had passed a simple test and qualified to gather at the Jungle Hut.
Yes, students.
Similar to the old White Stone Tower, the Jungle Hut also recruited students, but not on a regular schedule—sotis once a year, sotis twice, and at tis, several years would pass without recruiting a single person.
Moreover, the recruitnt requirents at different Jungle Hut locations varied; so were extrely high—almost demanding perfection in ten different skills, while others were extrely low—needing only the sense to run inside a house when it rained, so required female students, others required male students.
After leaving Black Stone Graveyard, Richard had spent over a month thoroughly investigating the information about “Yatis.” Afterward, he spent another month and a half confirming all the details for infiltrating the Jungle Hut and waiting for the right opportunity.
Since his departure from Black Stone Graveyard, nearly three months had passed, and the East Coast had entered the cool month of September.
During this ti, Richard wasn’t entirely engrossed with the matter of “Yatis.” He spent his spare ti exploring quite a few trifles. He made so progress in studying the plans for the so-called “Destructive Gloves,” but the deeper he delved, the more he realized just how complex the plans were, featuring many poorly detailed descriptions.
He speculated that this might be intentional, though he did not know why. However, he expected things would be clarified once he found the Black Spirit King’s final treasure.
Thinking this, Richard stepped through the muddy terrain, moving steadily forward. His many companions, by comparison, were far less composed; many felt the eerie atmosphere of the Witch Forest and showed faces full of fear. The sight of pumpkins burning with flas and soggy scarecrows on the roadside caused their eyes to widen involuntarily, their faces turning extrely pale. Several of them began to tremble as they walked, significantly slowing down the group’s pace.
Leading the group was a woman in her thirties nad Martha, full-figured with light purple lipstick and dressed in a brand-new Jungle Hut standard robe.
Martha, keenly sensing the slowdown in the group’s pace, arched her eyebrows, stopped walking, and swiftly scanned the students. Identifying the “culprits,” she quickly approached and gently patted the shoulders of a few extrely frightened boys and girls before speaking softly, “What’s wrong? Are you afraid the forest is dangerous and might hurt you? Ha, don’t be afraid. It’s all in your head. The forest might look a bit odd, but that’s all it is. As long as you walk properly, nothing will happen to you.
On the other hand, if you don’t listen and continue to slow down the whole group, I won’t need the forest to hurt you—I’ll do it myself. Do you hear ? Then, I’ll twist your little heads off and stuff them into those roadside pumpkins! You must be wondering why those pumpkins are hollowed out? They are specially prepared for you!”
“Ga!” After hearing this, a few boys and girls widened their eyes at Martha, their expressions like rabbits about to get their ears snipped and arteries cut, taking three seconds to fully process Martha’s words. In the next mont, they ran towards the front of the group faster than anyone. One of them, not being careful, “splat,” fell on the slippery road but didn’t dare to cry out in pain. Instead, they quickly got up and continued running.
“Heh, that’s better,” Martha smiled slightly and walked back to her leading position, continuing to guide the more than thirty students deeper into the Witch Forest.
…
Reviews
All reviews (0)