Morus albiflorum venenata, a low-growing plant that rarely exceeds one meter in height, is as captivating as it is perilous. Its delicate white petals are pristine, providing a striking contrast to its deep red anthers. Its fruits, known as "phantom mulberries," are pale and translucent, alluring to the eye yet exceptionally dangerous.
These fruits contain potent toxins that, when consumed, can unleash a cascade of harmful effects, starting with weakness and mild paralysis. These symptoms progress to blood clotting and hemoptysis (coughing up blood). In larger doses, the plant’s venom induces more severe symptoms, including distorted magical perception, extreme pallor, hallucinations, temporary blindness, mana poisoning, and severe emotional imbalance. Ultimately, these effects lead to death.
This plant is often mistaken for its harmless counterpart, Morus albiflorum, with which it shares a nearly identical appearance. The harmless variety produces "pale mulberries," completely safe for consumption. Despite their similarities in flowers and fruit, the leaves offer a crucial means of differentiation.
The Morus albiflorum venenata has triangular, slightly serrated leaf edges, while the safe Morus albiflorum displays oval-shaped, smoothly rounded leaves. The anthers of the toxic variety are a more vivid red, whereas the safe variety’s anthers exhibit a vibrant wine-like hue. These subtle details are essential for distinguishing between the two species and avoiding potentially fatal mistakes.
"How could anyone possibly fail to tell these fruits apart?" muttered a child of about seven years old, his golden eyes glinting with disdain as he stared at the worn pages of the open book before him. His dark hair, tinged with purple, framed her face as his voice carried an air of exasperated impatience. He flipped through the book deftly, his small, agile hands moving with practiced ease.
"Only an idiot would eat the poisonous one by mistake. Isn’t that right, Albert?" he asked, casting a sharp glance at the tall, impassive butler standing beside him. His condescending tone filled the quiet library, where streams of light filtered through stained-glass windows, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Albert, with his immaculate posture and serene demeanor, appeared entirely unfazed by his critique. His reply was immediate, as if he had anticipated the question.
“Young master, not everyone is able to discern such differences, especially in the dark,” he said in his deep, calm voice, a stark contrast to the child’s youthful irritation.
“In the Black Forest, for instance, distinguishing between the two would be nearly impossible unless one is an extraordinarily attentive expert. Even seasoned professionals have often been caught unaware by this plant.”
Albert paused, as if weighing his words carefully, before speaking again in a grave, almost solemn tone. "That is why it is called the Death Mulberry."
The child grimaced, his small body stiffening, though his eyes remained glued to the book as if trying to prove something to himself. He shook his head sharply, his dark hair flying around his face. “Humph,” he muttered, disdain etched into her expression.
“Excuses. Only an ignorant fool or a truly stupid idiot would fall victim to such an easily identifiable plant.”
He snapped the book shut with a loud, irritated clap, his face marked by frustration. Rising abruptly, his golden eyes glimmered with silent defiance. Without wasting a moment, he grabbed another book from one of the piles atop his desk, his movements both decisive and impatient. “This book is for idiots,” he said with cutting derision, his voice as sharp as a blade. “Albert, put it back where it belongs.”
“As you command, young master Alexander,” Albert replied, his impeccable posture unyielding. Without hesitation, he picked up the book and glanced at its cover. His eyes flicked over the title, lingering for a moment as though pondering the content. He made no comment, however, and carefully returned the book to its rightful place on the shelf, slotting it neatly among the other volumes.
The title of the book read: Dracknum: A Beginner’s Guide to the Black Forest.
----------------------------------------
In the Black Forest, the stillness of the woods was broken by growls and the heavy thud of footsteps reverberating among the trees. The bear, immense and menacing, advanced with deliberate steps, its eyes fixed on its prey. With each movement, the ground seemed to tremble faintly under the weight of its massive frame.
I lay stunned on the ground, struggling to react, but my body refused to obey. My vision blurred, and a searing heat coursed through me—not comforting warmth, but a burning sensation that worsened with every breath. The pain from the bear’s blow, coupled with the strain of the magic I had used to push it away, throbbed through me, leaving my chest tight and my breaths shallow. I couldn’t afford to hesitate now—not with the beast closing in.
The sound of its heavy steps grew clearer. The bear’s imposing figure loomed closer, its every movement radiating raw power. Even through my haze, I could make out its dark silhouette against the shadows of the forest. Its eyes locked onto mine, a ruthless predator that didn’t need to think twice before striking.
‘I won’t die so easily,’ I thought, a spark of determination flaring within me. My body was weak, every muscle screaming for respite, but something deeper pushed me to fight. Fear, pain, and exhaustion were forced into the recesses of my mind as I focused on everything I had learned until now.
With a restrained cry, I focused every ounce of mana available in the environment that I could gather, channeling it into the spells that I knew were my only chance. The air around me seemed heavier, the oppressive weight of the forest pressing down on me, but that only fueled my urgency.
— “Breeze!” — I shouted, the wind magic enveloping my body with sudden force, propelling me backward. The ground rapidly slipped away beneath my feet, but the pain in my battered body caused me to lose control momentarily, sending me crashing heavily onto the forest floor. The sensation of being carried by an unseen current, as though swept along by a rushing wind, was both terrifying and exhilarating.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I recovered as quickly as I could, my eyes fixed on the bear as it advanced with unrelenting fury. This was no longer a battle of physical strength—it had become a test of survival. My hands trembled, but the magic I summoned was my only weapon.
— “Flame!” — I cast the fire spell, a small flickering flame sparking to life in my palm. It was fragile, almost insignificant, but power wasn’t my goal—creation was. I had to use the forest itself against the beast.
The flame didn’t waver. I pressed it to the tree beside me, watching as the fire consumed the trunk, crackling through the dry branches and leaves. The heat hit me instantly, and the pungent scent of burning wood filled the air. I continued, guiding the fire into the undergrowth, watching it spread across the dry grass and leaves at my feet. The flames hissed and popped as they caught, the ground around me beginning to blaze.
My focus remained sharp, even as my body quaked with exhaustion and pain. The bear drew closer, but the fire was starting to form a barrier between us. The flames leapt fiercely, illuminating the forest and carving a searing line that I hoped the animal wouldn’t cross. The flickering light cast jagged shadows among the trees, heightening the tension of the moment.
‘This has to work. If it doesn’t, I’m screwed,’ I thought, adrenaline coursing through me as my breaths grew increasingly ragged.
The bear halted, seemingly hesitant. Its gaze locked onto the wall of fire separating us as the heat began to take its toll.
— “Breeze!” — I shouted again, sending another gust of wind toward the flames. The wind whipped through the burning foliage, spreading the fire to nearby trees and filling the air with a stifling, smoky haze. The smoke swirled and thickened, blending with the flames to create an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere.
I took a deep breath, my senses sharpened by the urgent need to act quickly. The fleeting sense of control over the situation, however tenuous, offered a sliver of comfort. I wasn’t defeated—not yet.
Summoning what strength I had left, I prepared to cast another spell. But before the words could fully leave my lips, an overwhelming wave of weakness enveloped me, as though every reserve of energy had suddenly drained from my body. The air around me grew oppressively dense, and my battered frame responded sluggishly. A heavy lethargy threatened to pull me under, but adrenaline kept me tethered to consciousness.
‘Don’t fail me now,’ I thought, anger flickering faintly within me, fueling my resolve.
The bear began to retreat, its massive, deliberate steps breaking the oppressive silence of the forest. It hesitated, perhaps recalculating its next move. This brief pause was all I needed.
‘This is my chance!’
— “Gale!” — I shouted the command, but the spell faltered. A weak, pathetic breeze rustled a few leaves, doing nothing to alter the bear’s course. A pang of dread shot through me, but I refused to let it consume me. I tried again.
— “Gale!” — Nothing. The spell fizzled out before it could even manifest.
Fighting the panic clawing at my chest, I attempted another incantation.
— “Flame!” — The word echoed in vain. The cold air around me remained untouched; the fire I relied on, my most trusted magic, was gone—snuffed out before it could even spark.
Desperation mounting, I tried again.
— “Charge!” — This time, I felt the mana stir, faintly flickering to life. But just as quickly, it was repelled, as if the very environment around me were devouring every shred of energy I managed to muster.
Frustration boiled over, erupting in a raw scream.
“DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL! BREE—”
Before I could finish, my body gave out. A fit of violent coughing overtook me, pain lancing through my chest as a metallic taste flooded my mouth. Blood spilled over my lips. Each cough drained more of my strength, each convulsion blurring my vision further. Warm, thick rivulets of crimson dripped down my chin, mingling with my fear and anguish.
I didn’t know if it was because I was weak because of the lack of nutrients or the damage I received, or even, because terror had taken hold of me, or if my eyes were deceiving me entirely. I looked at the bear again. It was no longer simply a beast. Its form seemed to shift and expand, becoming something far more monstrous.
It was advancing, its immense figure dominating my field of vision. Its claws, already lethal, now appeared impossibly long, razor-sharp extensions of its wrath. Its teeth gleamed like daggers in the dim light, and its eyes—those wild, feral eyes—now burned with an unholy fury, as if possessed by a force far beyond nature.
And then, as if the world itself had twisted into a nightmare, enormous wings unfurled from its back. They stretched outward, vast and menacing, their every movement stirring gusts of wind that seemed to mock my helplessness. The air trembled as the wings beat rhythmically, each powerful stroke amplifying the bear’s monstrous presence.
It stepped forward, unbothered by the flames that had once been my shield. The fire licked at its fur but did no harm, parting as if cowed by the sheer force of its unnatural power.
It was ready to break through. To destroy. To end me.
It leapt with an earth-shattering roar, its claws outstretched to seize me in a single, devastating motion. Its wings, now fully unfurled as the ultimate sign of its dominance, allowed it to glide toward me with terrifying grace.
My hands, frozen in terror, refused to obey me. The branch I had gripped so desperately slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering to the ground. I couldn’t move, couldn’t react—I was entirely at its mercy.
The world seemed to warp as it drew closer, its deadly claws inches from me, and the crushing weight of inevitability bore down on me like a nightmare unfolding in real time.
There was no escape.
My body, battered and drained, gave in to exhaustion, and darkness began to creep into my vision.
The last thing I saw before everything slipped away was a shadow—a figure darting in from the side, swift and precise like a blade slicing through the air. My eyes, blurred and fading, couldn’t keep up with what unfolded next.
All I could register was the faint, muffled sound of something slicing through the air, followed by an eerie silence that swallowed everything.