To many, holy light was the polar opposite of dark magic. Natural power, by contrast, seemed more tolerant. After all, death was part of nature, and there shouldn't be any real conflict between the two branches of nature and death.

That idea wasn't entirely wrong, but neither was it entirely right.

The problem was that many assumed the concept of death in undead philosophy to be the same as the death understood by druids.

That wasn't the case. To the undead, death represented eternity; to druids, a cycle.

Undead: "Ah, I've died—but now I am immortal. I shall exist forever."

Druid: "No, absolutely not. You need to become nourishment for that which still lives. Kindly die more thoroughly."

Therein lay the contradiction.

Natural power can accept death so long as the dead are willing to become part of the cycle. But it cannot accept dark magic, which exists to disrupt that cycle.

Of course, this was merely the mainstream druidic view, which was not harbored by all druids uniformly.

Some druids choose stranger paths. Members of the Circle of Spores, for instance, handled corpses more skillfully than many liches.

Moreover, the dark aura Ambrose sensed was unusual. It didn't feel like the work of undead. It felt more like the influence of some evil god.

This was the territory of the Oakfather. What kind of dark god would dare stir up trouble here?

Ambrose couldn't figure it out immediately, but for the moment, he chose not to interfere. He was still focused on how to arrange Monge Greywater's reasonable and convincing demise.

As they followed the druids deeper into the forest, writhing vines snaked beneath their feet. The vines adjusted perfectly to each step, carrying them forward like living conveyor belts.

As a result, their pace was astonishingly fast, as if they were sprinting throughout the forest.

The entire forest felt like a colossal living organism, capable of producing effects beyond imagination.

Ambrose sensed the omnipresent "harmony," yet something about it felt off.

Every kingdom had its natural advantage. Even the impoverished Ragetide Kingdom had the sea as a natural barrier. The desert possessed a defensive line of sandstorms to halt Lyon's armies. The druids' forest was likely even more terrifying than the sandstorms—any invasion meant fighting the entire woodland itself. It would be suicide.

But with such an overwhelming advantage, why raise the Dreamveil Barrier at all?

A magical formation capable of covering an entire kingdom was astronomically expensive to maintain. Even with a divine blessing, the manpower required would be enormous. Much like constructing a wonder of the world, such an expense would usually be considered wasteful.

Lyon was powerful, but not so powerful that the druids should be this frightened.

Combined with the dark energy he had sensed earlier, Ambrose suspected something had changed within the Emerald Dreamwood, something that made them unwilling to rely solely on the forest for protection.

If that were the case... could he take advantage of their circumstances?

As Ambrose pondered this possibility, a hidden settlement appeared before them.

Druids disliked altering nature excessively, so the town was nestled within a natural mountain hollow. Simple stone houses, decorated with vines and flowers, were built without disturbing the terrain. It looked primitive, yet everything bore the mark of natural magic. Animals roamed freely through the settlement. It was impossible to tell which were real beasts and which were druids in disguise.

Several rooms had been arranged for Ambrose and his party. Though the stone dwellings were rough, they were more than spacious enough.

Elder Sares instructed them to wait there. Representatives of the elder druids would soon arrive.

Once the druids left, Ariel leaned toward Ambrose and whispered, "This place feels strange. It's like there are eyes everywhere."

Her mind might not be the sharpest, but her instincts were good.

Ambrose stroked a fearless little squirrel on the table and said casually, "In druid territory, anything alive can be their eyes and ears. This little fellow, for example—who's to say it's a real squirrel and not a druid? Every snake, insect, and rodent in this forest is either a druid or a druidic companions. You'll get used to it."

"If we can't tell the difference at all, doesn't that make us extremely vulnerable?" Ariel asked nervously.

"Don't overthink it," Ambrose replied. "Some dangers in this world can't be avoided."

Animals were an inseparable part of the deep forest. Any one of them could leap out at any moment with lethal intent.

Excessive vigilance in the Emerald Dreamwood was useless. It would only fray one's nerves.

Seeing that Ariel still seemed uneasy, Ambrose added, "Well, I do have a way to identify which ones are druids. It only works on male druids, though."

Ariel's interest was piqued. "What method?"

"Simple. Go back to your room and take off your clothes. Since druids can freely transform into animals, shapeshifting for the sake of spying is considered an extremely serious crime among them. The moment you undress, any male druids watching will bolt immediately. They wouldn't dare commit such an offense under the Oakfather's gaze."

Ariel flushed bright red and gritted her teeth. "How do you know something like that? Have you been here before?"

Ambrose shook his head. "Read more books. Books contain everything about the world."

This was, of course, a lie.

In his youth, Ambrose had maintained a less-than-innocent friendship with a female druid and had learned quite a bit about druid customs as a result.

Though embarrassed, Ariel was not the type to grow coy for long. She quickly regained composure and continued the discussion seriously.

"But driving away the men doesn't solve everything. What about female druids?"

Ambrose smiled. "Even simpler. Send a man in first and have him undress to scare off the women. Then you go in and scare off the men. Problem solved."

Ariel frowned. "Wouldn't they just switch observers?"

"They wouldn't risk returning," Ambrose replied calmly. "They'd be too afraid of being accused of violating druid law. Druids don't even earn salaries. Who would risk punishment for something so trivial? Of course, it's not foolproof. If you happen to encounter someone bold enough to ignore consequences... then you'd have to count yourself unlucky."

Ariel's eyes widened. How did Monge Greywater have such a good grasp on human nature?

At that moment, the squirrel Ambrose had been petting suddenly spoke. "Since when has there been someone so clever among the Stormborn?"

Ariel nearly jumped out of her chair. She seized her warhammer as lightning erupted around her.

The thin layer of natural energy surrounding her shattered instantly under the surge of thunder. A wave of drowsiness hit her like days of sleepless exhaustion. Her eyelids drooped uncontrollably.

She immediately jolted herself with a burst of electricity, forcing herself conscious, but she was clearly struggling.

The squirrel leapt lightly from the table. In midair, it rolled and transformed into an elderly woman with a cane, her face painted with ritual markings.

She withdrew a vine-woven bracelet from her pocket and handed it to Ariel. "Easy, child. Put this on. Pain alone won't counter the Dreamveil Barrier. You'll only hurt yourself."

Ambrose spoke calmly as well. "Your Highness, put it on. Don't strain yourself."

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Ariel obeyed. She suppressed the lightning and quickly donned the new bracelet.

Natural energy enveloped her once more, and the overwhelming drowsiness vanished.

Ambrose turned to the elderly woman. "May I ask your name, Elder?"

She studied him curiously. "I am Teresa. Sares is my husband. You don't look like someone from the Ragetide Kingdom. Calm minds are rare among the Stormborn, and I've never heard of one so knowledgeable about druids."

"Elder Teresa, that sounds suspiciously like prejudice. The great Lord of Storms teaches us to be brave and pursue strength, not to throw away our brains."

Teresa chuckled. "And you sound more like a silver-tongued robin than a Stormborn. Still, there's no need for such childish tactics. I'll have them withdraw."

"Would you swear it in the name of the Oakfather?" Ambrose asked.

She gave him a sharp look. "Very well. In the name of the Pine-Needle Tribe, I swear to the Oakfather that, as long as you do not leave this settlement, no one will monitor you again."

Undiscovered surveillance was one thing; persisting after it had been exposed directly would be disrespectful. Though relations between the two kingdoms were strained, Ariel was still a princess and Ambrose a high-ranking official of state. If they wished to avoid immediate conflict, concessions were necessary.

So long as the guests did not leave the area, it would suffice.

Teresa tapped her cane against the floor. The room filled with rustling sounds as countless unseen creatures scurried away.

"Our thanks," Ambrose said sincerely.

Teresa merely assumed he was mocking her and departed with a stern expression.

Once the druids were gone, Ambrose told Ariel, "You can relax now. Go rest. The elder druids' envoys will likely arrive soon."

"Are we truly safe?" Ariel asked doubtfully.

"If you don't believe me, you're welcome to test my earlier method," Ambrose replied, and promptly ushered her out.

After closing the door, Ambrose sat alone and extended his senses outward.

Beyond five hundred meters, his perception blurred into vague outlines. Past a thousand meters, even shapes dissolved into indistinct rises and dips in the terrain.

Still, he pushed further, straining his mind to its limits. At last, he found what he was searching for—his beast companion.

Deep within the Emerald Dreamwood, Naomi, who had been resting beside Catherine, suddenly lifted her head in excitement. "He's back."