"We're going to die here..."
The wind whispered, brushing against the falling crimson leaves as if warning the two figures standing before the forbidden forest. Two black horses stamped their hooves at the forest's edge, their iron shoes scraping against the cracked, barren earth, split open by monstrous roots.
Before them loomed the Blood Red Forest—a gaping maw like the gates of a living hell. Even from the outside, they knew this was a place no one should enter. From within the shadows, dozens of bloodthirsty red eyes stared back at them.
"Lord Sorbet, this is madness!" The soldier beside him gripped his sword so tightly his hands trembled. "No one has ever come out of here—not even their corpses! Are you sure we should go in?"
Sorbet didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the swirling red mist between the trees, where shadows moved too fast to be mere animals. Whatever they were, they were anything but friendly. Sorbet swallowed hard.
Ding.
A small bell, hanging from the nearest branch, swayed on its own. Its chime sounded like the choked cry of a strangled infant. An ordinary sound, yet it sent shivers down Sorbet's spine. On the battlefield, he was the bravest of knights—yet now, for the first time, he was truly afraid.
"A welcome," Sorbet murmured.
Then—
CRACK!
A wolf as large as a horse crashed down from the sky, its body split cleanly in half. Blood pooled beneath it, forming words:
"Get in.. if you dare."
No one had ever greeted visitors with such terror. If this weren't the Blood Red Forest, Sorbet would have drawn his sword in fury—but here, that would be suicide.
The soldier behind him vomited.
Sorbet stepped forward, his boot crushing a rib hidden beneath the leaves. Only a fool would dare enter this forest, and Sorbet was that fool.
"Warlet Von Crimson," he called, his voice trembling with reverence, "The Slaughterer of Five Thousand Endrian soldiers... I come with a request."
The red mist parted.
The path, once obscured, now lay clear. In the distance, atop a mound of skulls, stood the silhouette of a small girl. She smiled at Sorbet—like a doll smiling. A doll of death.
Sorbet took another step forward, but the soldier grabbed his sleeve. The man's face was pale, sickly. He shook his head, sensing disaster.
"My lord, this isn't wise," the soldier warned.
But Sorbet didn't listen. He walked deeper into the forest. The soldier had no choice but to follow—he was a guard, sworn to stand by his master's side no matter what.
"Trust me," Sorbet insisted.
***
As they ventured deeper, the air grew thick—like an invisible hand tightening around their throats. The soldier stumbled, his knee sinking into suddenly damp earth.
He looked down.
"M-My lord—!" His voice choked.
The ground was breathing.
Pink flesh pulsed between the cracks, like a gaping wound. Black roots slithered like veins, dragging animal carcasses—and things shaped like humans—into the earth's depths. It was horrifying. Disgusting.
Sorbet didn't flinch. He knew the rules: Never run. Never scream. Never stare too long. Never disrespect what dwells here.
"Our family has kept our oath," he said, voice low but firm. "One woman every hundred years. Now, we ask for—"
"Ssssttt..."
The hiss came from everywhere. The leaves whispered. The roots trembled. Sorbet clenched his jaw—he knew the price of defiance.
And then—
She was there.
The little girl now stood right before Sorbet, no taller than his waist. Her blonde hair was tangled, adorned with withered funeral flowers—the same kind that grew on the mass graves of Endrian soldiers.
But her eyes...
Those were not human.
Vertical pupils, like a cat's, but deep red—like blood pooling in a grave. Eyes without mercy. Empty, yet cruel.
"You dare speak my name, mortal?" Her voice was sweet, childlike, yet it made the air tremble.
Sorbet bowed deeper, cold sweat dripping down his temples. "Forgive me, Lady Warlet. But the Royal Magic Academy needs—"
"The Academy?" Her laughter sent birds plummeting from the trees—dead before they hit the ground.
"Do they want me to teach?" Warlet tilted her head too far, her hair brushing the dirt. "Or... do they wish to study my power?"
Sorbet swallowed hard. This was more dangerous than he'd thought. One wrong answer, and he'd be a corpse.
Then, tiny fingers—cold as death—touched his chin.
"I'll come," she whispered. "But bring a better offering next time... or you'll become my trees' favorite fertilizer."
She smiled, revealing neat little teeth. Warlet didn't look terrifying at all—just a sweet, innocent child. And that was the most horrifying part. People would underestimate her.
Then—
She vanished.
The red mist thickened again, swallowing the path. Sorbet turned. His soldier had collapsed, face blue as if strangled. He quickly administered a healing potion, and color slowly returned to the man's face.
"Thank you, Lord Sorbet," the soldier gasped.
"Get up. We're leaving."
Sorbet strode toward the forest's edge, retracing his steps.
He had secured Warlet's agreement. That was enough.
Yet doubt gnawed at him. "Was this the right choice?" He shook his head. "No. I cannot hesitate. This is for the best."
***
Sorbet had left the Blood Red Forest behind. Against all odds, he had returned alive to the capital of the Endrian Kingdom. Only he and his family had ever survived entering that cursed place.
When Sorbet was but a distant speck on the horizon, the girl deep within the forest grinned—a smile that stretched too wide, filled with too many teeth.
"My Lady Warlet," a woman's voice called hesitantly, "shall I accompany you?"
The speaker was Warlet's personal attendant, a woman who had devoted her entire existence to serving the crimson witch. There was hope in her voice—hope that she might finally leave this accursed forest.
Warlet's answer crushed that hope instantly.
"I go alone." Her voice carried the finality of a tomb sealing shut. "Guard this forest. Let no one enter." A pause. Then with chilling simplicity: "Kill them all."
The attendant's shoulders slumped, but she bowed deeply. "As you wish, Lady Warlet," she murmured, the words tasting like ashes in her mouth.
***
Note: Chapters 1-10 are just the prologue. If you find them less engaging, feel free to start from Chapter 10—you won't miss the core story.