Chapter 95: What Happened One Night XIII (part 1)

“I can’t believe it. Even though I’m seeing it with my own eyes, I still can’t accept that such barriers exist in this world.”

Heron, the exclusive mage in service to the Duke of Decaraznan, stood a short distance from the Duke, carefully inspecting the barrier that encircled the forest. His face was a mask of astonishment as he groped at the invisible wall.

“Heron, explain. What exactly do you mean by ‘barrier’?”

Noel’s puzzled expression deepened as he looked to Heron for clarification. 

The mage sighed, then slowly reached his hand into the barrier before them.

Ugh—

As Heron’s hand entered the barrier, ripples spread across its surface. 

Then, unexpectedly, his hand reappeared from a point some distance away, as though space itself had been twisted. It resembled one of those street magician tricks where body parts appear to be separated—but this was no illusion. 

This was real.

“Do you see it, My Lady? This barrier doesn’t just block access. It distorts the very fabric of space and denies entry to anyone not permitted. If this were a typical barrier, its ‘strength’ would be blocked from outside interference. But this one… it manipulates spatial continuity, making interference meaningless.”

Noel blinked, her brows furrowing as she digested the explanation.

“So, in simpler terms… we can’t enter, nor can we destroy it? Even if we try, the distortion of space itself renders any attempt ineffective?”

“Exactly,” Heron replied with a nod.

Noel let out a hollow laugh, incredulous. “That’s ridiculous. I may not know much about magic, but even I know how absurd that is. I understand the limits of modern magic.”

Indeed, as far as Noel knew, it was nearly impossible to interfere with time and space using current magical techniques. 

Such feats were said to be attainable only by an archmage—someone who had touched upon fragments of the world’s deepest truths. 

And even then, their interference in time and space would be limited.

But if that were the case, what kind of archmage was aiding the culprit? 

Who could pull off such a feat? 

And why kidnap Sarah Cernard?

“…Have you heard any rumors of an archmage coming to this region?” Noel asked.

Heron shook his head. “There’s been no word of any magic tower master being away. The Marquis of Castana is one of the most influential figures in the Empire. If someone like that had arrived here, we would have heard of it.”

Noel could only nod at Heron’s logic.

“…You’re right.”

“Moreover,” Heron continued, “this goes beyond the identity of someone with a profound understanding of space and time. This barrier is designed to only allow certain individuals to pass through. I can’t even begin to comprehend the intricacies involved.”

Heron’s words carried a tone of reverence, making Noel narrow her eyes in curiosity.

“…Only certain people can enter?” she echoed.

“Yes. Whoever constructed this barrier clearly wanted to keep us out while silently letting others in. I’m willing to bet that the ‘certain individuals’ entered the forest without even realizing the barrier existed.”

“What could’ve drawn them in?”

“This is just my theory… but I believe it’s a hunt.”

“…A hunt?” Noel asked, her voice low.

“Yes. First, they kidnapped Lady Cernard and made a spectacle of it. Then, they erected a barrier right near the Duke’s mansion. That’s bait. They’re luring in a third force, someone unknown. Doesn’t this remind you of how hunters operate? Set the bait, lure the prey, trap it… then kill it before it even realizes what’s happening.”

“…If that’s true, then deep within that forest…”

At Noel’s grim speculation, Heron shivered.

“…It’s probably already hell in there. Whoever went through the trouble of creating this barrier wouldn’t leave a single prey alive. They’d have prepared something lethal for the moment anyone stepped into the snare.”

***

Tracking down the one who kidnapped Sarah Cernard hadn’t been difficult.

Especially not for the Hounds, an elite unit renowned for being unparalleled when it came to following a trail. 

Whether the abductor had left the traces intentionally or was simply careless didn’t matter—they were easily tracked. Their path led directly to the forest near the Duke of Decaraznan’s mansion.

The Hounds entered the forest without resistance. 

No traps lay in their way, no obstructions. 

They drew closer to their quarry, step by step.

Yet… something about the forest was wrong.

Even these hardened men, whose senses had long since dulled after countless encounters with death and darkness, couldn’t shake the creeping unease that clung to the air like fog.

The silence was unnatural. 

Not even the chirping of grasshoppers could be heard. 

The only sound was the eerie rustling of grass stirred by the wind, sometimes accompanied by what resembled low moans—almost like howls.

The branches of the trees twisted and interwove into grotesque shapes, almost like living things. 

The entire forest exuded a strange energy, as if it might come alive at any moment to flay the flesh from their bones.

It felt as though an invisible blade hovered at their napes, cold and ready to strike.

Their honed instincts—the very ones that made them Hounds—were screaming at them to be cautious.

No one dared speak aloud what they all felt, but the silent consensus was clear:

This forest… was ominous.

And it was only just beginning.