I got the feeling that I, Heidschi, and probably also Sniffle had the same two theories about how this boar was killed. Those dry, magic-tipped vines snaking around and through the body…either they were the weapons or the perpetrator.

And if the magic wasn’t native to Vencia? Then whatever it was, it could be the makings of a bigger existential threat. So if I didn’t destroy it all now, then…

Wait. I looked around and, sure enough, saw a glimpse of a bluish-black wing in the trees behind me. Logy was watching even now. She just hadn’t chosen to do anything. Considering the way the body and the old magic was just kind of, well, hanging out, maybe that was an okay call.

Heidschi and the rest of the flock waited as Sniffle raised her nose and began to swivel her head around.

“Oh no,” Heidschi murmured. “So the magic’s not just around the body—there are traces of it all throughout this place.”

Now that they said that…I noticed something else that was all throughout this place. More crunchy vines than the path before, and several with the heads of dead flytraps.

Dead? Were they really? It looked like it, but if none of those vines we’d passed by on the way here had enough magic for Sniffle to stop and smell them, then…

Hm, then maybe magic could be sent through, like a current through a spine. And maybe that could animate—

Something trembled, deep in the ground, shaking the trees. Birds rushed up and scattered.

Alright, that was it. I Morphed, stepped forward, pulled out my sword, and with two hands thrust the tip into the earth.

HP 99% (847/855) SP 12% (399/3280)

ATK 954 (x6)

INT 5 (x0 +5)

DEF 111

WIS 312 (x3)

SPD 132

Heidschi muffled a gasp. The sheep shivered, but I didn’t hear a bleat out of them. I only heard them drawing closer together.

And I stood firm, looking straight ahead…as if that rumble had come from in front of us, and not down below.

Something rolled to its feet. The boar corpse—surprisingly fast. It charged.

The body was ghastlier in full motion. It hadn’t started to rot, but its movements were wrong, like this was a sack of bones being shuffled around by a puppeteer. Bones wanted to explode from their skin. A black-and-rainbow fire lit up the body’s eyes and glinted in its wounds.

The boar curved around me and went for Heidschi, but I whipped out the Debug Blade, holding it horizontal, hoping I could cleave right through.

I did, but the two halves of the pig kept going.

Two sacks of meat collided with Heidschi and tackled them to the ground. Now the sheep were panicking. So was I! I whirled around, ready to lob a Spell.

Heidschi was already on that. Which was terrifying, and brave, because if a Fire Spell burns the thing right on top of you, soon it’ll probably burn you. Flame roared and spurted up from the boar corpse, which tumbled to the earth as Heidschi backed away and swatted out the embers on their dress.

The fire died out, impossibly fast. It wasn’t that the fire had done nothing—the flesh was now charred and crisp, and the organic matter of the vines was gone completely, burned away to dripping ash. But it had done nothing that mattered. In place of the vines, there were writhing cords of pure magic. In place of the lost skin and organs was…not much, but did the boar need it?

Those cords of magic had bound the remains back together. Magic dripped from the husk. As soon as the corpse was back in one shaky piece, it roared and thrust forward with its tusks, to skewer Heidschi.

Lightning arced through the air and into its side. I knew I hadn’t done much, but at least taking a Spell in its side shoved the boar away from the shepherd. This allowed Heidschi to dart backward, gaining a bit of distance, and pull out twin drumsticks.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Meanwhile, I didn’t rest. I closed in with the blade.

My only strategy was to hack and hack and keep hacking away. That body couldn’t fix itself faster than I could chop it up, could it? In any case, I’d try it.

I closed in without fear, telling myself only to be as brutal as possible. Then I stopped thinking as much as possible.

“Brutal” was a good guidepost to have. Now I wasn’t worrying about whether I was doing well or badly. A hit was a hit!

I swung ferociously, putting all my near-thousand points of ATK into it. The first strike sent the boar to the ground with as much suddenness and power as a car crash. The next were stabs, slices, and bludgeonings with the side of the sword. I was cutting away skin with ease. The only part of this body with any kind of sturdiness was the bone—and only because that was where the magic pumped most fiercely. This I cut away with ease too.

Suddenly an undead killing machine had become so many loose parts. It was going down easy! And without a sound besides the odd grunt.

The boar tried to dash through my bladework and gore me with those tusks. I simply hacked through the tusks. They shattered into dust. Once I’d done that, the rest of the body disintegrated too, before my eyes. Skin and bones finally gave up.

A hunk of dust was flying toward me. Almost like a shower of victory, like a…

Oh my gosh, why’d I leave my mouth open?!

The weaknesses of this darn blade continued to haunt me, and I would keep blaming its brain-changes for every foolhardy decision I made when I used it. I had stood there proudly with my eyes and mouth wide open as a cloud full of magical evil dust came flying at me.

Immediately I retched and fell into a crouch. I dropped the sword—not on purpose, but that certainly brought me back to my senses. Enough to know that dropping that sword in the first place had been a truly horrible thing to do!

Sheep cries sounded from behind me. The ground burst.

It was hard to concentrate on the world around me when my insides began to twist. A nightmare image flashed in my mind of tentacle vines wrapping, constricting, crawling.

Perishing, wilting…purged? Suddenly I felt a lot better. My eyes, once squinched shut, fell open and found a delicate cream light all around me. I felt a warmth inside of me, but especially in my core, where just seconds ago I had felt the deepest pain.

In the past few seconds, a fairly quiet battleground had become choked with noise and motion. Yet somehow the first sound I picked out of the mess was a delicate drumming.

Thanks, Heidschi, I said silently.

Then I hopped to my feet, feeling the last of the inner pangs fade with the light. To my surprise, I found the Debug Blade not only still in front of me, but hanging. It had been picked up by a krigrie, one of many now swarming the area so much that I could hardly see the sky.

Well, that explained it! This place was so busy and uproary because Logy had decided to do something about it. I grabbed the blade and felt its changes wash over me. Then I speedily put the blade away. I was definitely not using that again until I got a better Intelligence cantrip, not if I could help it.

I was smack-dab in the middle of the swarm, and trying my best to analyze things, which also meant standing around like a goober. Who were we even fighting? Oh, right, those vines that were now popping up from the earth itself.

They were thin—as thin as the vines we’d come across on our way here—but turned into catastrophic threats by their sheer volume, not to mention the threads and smoke of magic they all trailed and whipped around.

Not to fear, though. We had lots and lots of krigries, who were latching onto the vines, getting as close to the roots as possible, and apparently biting into them. More than a few of their lives were lost as the vines counterattacked, strangling and claiming their bodies.

But that wasn’t all. We had lots and lots of sheep! Or more like eight sheep. But now, thanks to a new and more powerful rhythm created by Heidschi’s latest drum pattern, they were encased in aura. In fact, the blurs I saw racing about looked even a little deadly. Huge red horns in imitation of the mighty ram, glowing hooves, and billowing aura along their whole bodies streaked through the battle, adding dashes like paint, as they fought off vines and spectral tendrils.

I practically had nothing to do! Acting at all might stab through a krigrie, and frankly, we were losing enough of those. First I focused on getting out of the way. So I changed to my slightly more comfortable, slightly smaller-of-a-target cat form and darted through the fracas, feeling like a windshield as krigries butted against me.

A vine snared me—wrapping right around my torso. As much as I wanted to slip through and ignore it, the thing wrapped too tight and too quickly, and even at a touch, it felt sturdy. Way too sturdy for a floppy dry twig!

I hastily used the Amber Beam, turning my head so the sphere would swing into the vine. It burned through. It wasn’t much, but it burned, and in the gap between the vine breaking in two and those two halves joining back together, I moved. The lasso was loosened just enough for me to slip out.

Then, with the orb still hovering by my side (and likely burning through a few more krigrie hides…sorry), I was on the edge of the battle. Actually, when I stared across, I could see Heidschi! But it wasn’t like I could greet them. Their head was down as they drummed, focusing on a steady beat. Sniffle was at their ankles—I assumed she’d guided them to a place just beyond the danger zone.

Which made me feel wary about where I was standing. Was there a chance the vines would get me here?

Even now, Sniffle and Heidschi were edging backward. I started doing the same.

But it hardly mattered. Within a shockingly brief amount of time, the battle had ended.

It happened in a flash. The overwhelming buzz of the krigries fell a few decibels as the swarm switched from fighting to hovering. Then they took off in a mass toward the south. One brownish-black cloud, done with their duty.

Thanks, Logy, I thought. I didn’t feel reluctant about giving her that credit. I just felt a little put off by how easily she could summon millions of billions of little insects who were, by all appearances, ever-ready to put their lives on the line. Did they feel bad about it, or were they more like…drones? Or did they make their own peace with it? Maybe I would just never understand bugs.

To say nothing of Heidschi. What was even going through their head? “A guardian angel saved my life and it came in the form of a crispy swarm”? Heck, it might not even be a good idea for me to explain who brought them here.

Well, for now, I sped around the ruined clearing toward Heidschi and the regrouping, auraless sheep. Not through it, in case any bit of magic lingered.

Sniffle had relaxed. That was a good sign. Though I saw plenty of exhaustion in that face, I also read relief. The other sheep had a few injuries, clearly from whips and squeezes, but all looked steady on their feet. So did Heidschi, who only looked scuffed.

Before anyone could say or spell a single word, we heard a fluttering. Not the mass migration of birds or insects, but a smaller sound from silk-thin wings. A young woman had appeared nearby, looking…deliberately mysterious.

She didn’t speak, of course, putting the onus of explaining who she even was on me. Darnit.

At least Heidschi grinned and curtseyed, taking this in stride.