CHAPTER 443: DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING YOU DON’T KNOW.

The ground of the Black Forest at the End of the World seemed to shift beneath his feet with every step. There was a palpable unease in the air—not the kind that portends immediate danger, but that almost primal discomfort of someone treading on territory that should never have been touched.

Vergil walked with steady steps, even though the environment around him was anything but steady. The trees bent in ways that defied physical logic; their branches seemed to stretch when they weren’t being watched. Some flowers opened only when he had his back turned, letting out a soft sound, almost like a sigh.

The sky was invisible. The closed canopy of black and lilac leaves blocked any hint of direction. It was like walking in the womb of something ancient, alive... and hungry.

"Are we walking in circles?" Vergil asked, without turning around, his voice more irritated than tired.

The white snake around his neck moved slightly, as if yawning—or just pretending to be lazy.

"Probably," Zuri replied, her voice hissing inside his mind like an invasive thought. "But don’t you understand yet? Here, circles sometimes lead to the center. The forest has a mind of its own."

Vergil snorted and raised his hand, watching the black crystal pulsing with a faint inner glow—the "stone" Selene had given him with enigmatic instructions. Place it in the center. Simple. Too simple.

"This stone. Is it really that important?" He asked, not hiding his skepticism. "Do you really think it’s worth the risk of crossing a living forest with an ancient labyrinth complex, just to stick this in some mystical spot that no one can find without going mad first?"

Zuri didn’t answer right away. She just slid a little further down his collarbone, her green eyes lighting up from within.

"Do what that woman asked," she said at last. "She rarely asks. And when she does... it’s because something will collapse if it’s not done."

"Wonderful." Vergil slipped the stone back into the inside pocket of his tunic. "Another hellish Tuesday on the agenda."

Silence returned to envelop them, but it was not a natural silence. It was dense. Pressurized. Filled with distant sighs, the crackling of untouched branches, and leaves whispering to each other in dead languages.

After a few minutes of walking, Vergil stopped. The feeling of being watched had intensified. It wasn’t just paranoia—not anymore. His warrior instincts, honed in wars, massacres, and battles against cosmic entities, did not lie.

He turned quickly, his eyes fixed on the darkness between two grotesquely twisted trees.

Nothing.

Zuri didn’t say a word, but he felt her body stiffen. She felt it too. Something was watching them.

Vergil stood still for a moment, then continued walking, now more slowly, as if challenging the pursuer to approach.

And then... there it was again.

The gaze. Not like that of a hungry predator. It was more... curious. Intense. Like a pair of children’s eyes holding their breath, trying not to be noticed.

This time, Vergil didn’t turn around. Instead, he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The air was heavy with raw, primitive mana—difficult to absorb, but intoxicating when understood.

With a single movement, he concentrated his energy in the center of his chest and expanded it into an invisible wave.

His aura spread like silent lightning, touching trees, leaves, roots, shadows... and something else.

A flash of consciousness. Small. Quick. But real.

Vergil opened his eyes and looked eastward, where the trees seemed to lean toward a void that shouldn’t have been there. And there, between two huge roots, was the creature.

Small, no bigger than a rabbit, with pale, almost translucent skin. Its eyes were too large for its face, glowing with a milky light. It had long ears folded back, and its legs moved like those of a deer, but its tail was forked like a snake’s.

The creature did not flee when it saw him. It just looked at him. Curious. As if trying to understand what he was.

Zuri stretched her head slightly to see it too. Her body contracted with an involuntary shiver.

"Don’t touch it," she whispered in Vergil’s mind. "Don’t get too close."

"Why?" Vergil replied mentally, keeping his eyes fixed on the small creature.

"Because the curious ones in this forest are the ones who remember the most. They see... and they don’t forget. They are the eyes of the center."

Vergil frowned.

"The forest has spies?"

"It has children. That one... was probably born from the ground. Grown from memories, fears, and forgotten souls. It wants to know what you are before letting you go deeper."

The creature took a step forward. Vergil remained motionless. It raised one of its paws, as if hesitating, and then backed away. Its eyes, however, were still fixed on him.

"If it’s a child of the center," Vergil said in a low voice, "then maybe the path isn’t as far away as we think."

"Or maybe the center has noticed you... and is still deciding what to do about it."

The creature then made a sound. A small crack, like the crackling of a dry leaf breaking. In response, the ground around Vergil lit up in a faint circle of bluish light, like a seal revealed after centuries.

The creature ran into the woods and disappeared without a sound.

Vergil looked at the symbols that now covered the ground around him—ancient arcane runes, some he recognized from forbidden texts, others that seemed even older.

Zuri sighed in his mind.

"Congratulations. You have been marked."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps it is an invitation. Or perhaps... a sentence."

Vergil looked into the forest. The path now seemed clearer—a newly formed trail where before there had been only mist.

He adjusted his tunic, checked the sword strapped to his back, and felt the weight of the stone in his pocket.

"The invitation is accepted," he said.

And then, with Zuri still wrapped around his neck and the eyes of the center already piercing his soul, he followed the open trail... into the heart of the forest.

The newly formed path was narrow, lined with twisted roots and leaves that whispered secrets in dead languages. Vergil walked on without hesitation, his eyes alert to every variation in color, every noise that seemed unnatural—or seemed too natural, as if the forest were trying to appear friendly.

Zuri was silent now, wrapped around his neck like a living necklace. Her presence was comforting, but also tense — as if even she were holding her breath.

After a few minutes, the vegetation began to part on its own. The trees receded, making room for something that shouldn’t have been there. A geometric void within the organic chaos of the forest. A clearing of broken stones, ancient moss, and fallen columns.

Vergil stopped at the edge, watching. It was a ruin—ancient, circular, with marks from civilizations that not even the underworld remembered anymore. A symbol engraved in the center caught his attention: intertwined spirals forming an eye with two pupils.

He jumped into the arena without hesitation.

The sound of his feet hitting the ground echoed for a time too strange for the size of the space. It was as if he were in an amphitheater forgotten by the gods.

He looked around slowly. Silence. No movement. Just fallen stones, cracked columns, and the shadows of trees watching as an audience.

Vergil walked to the center, where a slightly elevated rock seemed more recent than the others. His instincts warned him, but he approached. He knelt down. He reached out his hand.

Zuri moved in warning, but said nothing.

His fingers touched the cold surface of the stone—and the world shook.

A dull thud echoed from the depths. The ground vibrated. The columns trembled. The cracks in the stones expanded like living veins. And then, slowly, something began to rise from the ground.

First it was a hand—made of living black stone, marked with inscriptions that glowed red. Then the other arm. The chest. The head. A colossal figure rose, emerging from the ruins like a tomb opening to spew forth its guardian.

An ancient golem, at least fifteen feet tall, made of fragments bound together by magic and hatred. Its eyes, two glowing slits, stared at Vergil with silent judgment.

Zuri stretched her head over Vergil’s shoulder.

"First rule of an ancient forest with a life of its own. Don’t touch any shit you see."

"Yeah. Got it."

The golem moved, its footsteps shaking the earth. In its left hand appeared a blade of rough, irregular crystal, as if it had been torn from a mountain and forged in pure killing instinct.

Vergil let out a weary sigh. He stared at the creature and reached for the hilt of the sword on his back.

"I just wanted to put a rock somewhere. But no, of course it has to be like this."

The golem roared. Not a sound from its throat—but the noise of rocks breaking, of tectonic plates colliding. A sound that came from the heart of the earth.

Vergil cracked his neck to the side, flexing his fingers.

"Fine. Let’s do it the hard way."

He disappeared in a flash.

The golem moved at the same instant, twisting its body with a speed incompatible with its size. Its colossal blade passed inches from where Vergil had been seconds before. Vergil appeared behind him, his sword already drawn in a quick slash.

Metal met stone... and ricocheted.

Vergil took a step back, his eyes half-closed. "Tough, huh?"

"He’s a guardian of a center that no one has reached in centuries. Did you think he’d cut like butter?" Zuri commented, as if it were obvious.

The golem slammed its fist into the ground. A wave of gray energy spread like cracks across the arena, forcing Vergil to leap backward.

"If it’s made of ancient magic..." Vergil muttered, twirling his sword between his fingers, "...then maybe force isn’t the answer."

He ran again, but this time not to attack directly. Instead, he circled the golem, analyzing the runes that glowed on its shoulders and back. They formed a pattern. A seal.

Zuri noticed it too. "There. Right shoulder. The center of control."

Vergil advanced. He jumped, spinning in the air, and came down with a precise blow. The blade was not meant to destroy—but to unlock.

When it hit the spot, the rune glowed brightly... and the golem froze for a second. Then it let out a second roar—this time, higher pitched. A sound of pain.

It was wounded.

Vergil smiled slightly. "Ah, now we’re talking."