Glenn stared at the place they initially came from. It was gone as if it had been transported elsewhere. Or, maybe it wasn't the exit that moved, but them...
'Wow, is this the labyrinth in Harry Potter? Are you going to find the Portkey and fight Voldemort?' Diamanes whispered in his mind, a hint of excitation discernable in his voice. The young man simply shook his head, taking out his trusty shortsword. Giselle's gift had numerous scratches, nicks, and scuffs along the edge and surface of its blade. It was still straight and sharp, a witness to the skill of the smith who made it. He could also thank his past crazed self for taking the shortsword for maintenance after every fight he led. But despite how well Mr. Smith cared for it, the weapon still showed signs of weariness. The hilt, guard, and pommel had worn finishes, and the symbol of the Black Heirs, the black tree with crimson droplet-shaped leaves within a white circle, was pretty much faded by now.
Instead, his sleeveless suit made out of Night Silk looked still as good as it did the first he wore it. He was kind of surprised, but when he asked Rusty to explain why it didn't get used or worn, the shopkeeper casually answered that it was enchanted with a self-repair, self-cleaning, and soulbound enchantment. That's also when Glenn understood that he could summon and unsummon his clothes at any time, leaving him in awe and appreciation at the practicality of the suit. It did everything by itself! How great was that?
Back at their situation, Glenn, who stood frozen in the middle of the woods, made the others react accordingly. Wilbur was the first to do so, as it seemed like the knight was keeping up tabs on the young man, to maybe find some faults in his behavior. For some reason, he seemed to particularly dislike Glenn. Maybe the idea of a man younger than he was making it to the Gold Fixer rank was unnerving him, who knew?
"Hey, kid, why the hell did you st–" The knight stopped himself from talking, tensing up as he discovered that the path they came from had disappeared. The rest of the team turned back, their faces hardening as they prepared themselves for the worst. Without any escape route, they were as good as dead. Even if they did manage to solve the problem of this forest, it would be useless if they were unable to leave the place. Wilbur silently told them to keep on going, talking through hand signs. Their steps echoed in the silence of the forest, highlighting just how much of an anomaly they were in here. The group slowly progressed through the Dread Forest, before they were stopped once again, but not by Glenn this time.
Javier was crouching on the ground, nodding slowly. He turned toward the rest of the team, pointing at broken branches and trampled vegetation. He lifted delicately a bush to show the clear remnant of a shoe footprint. It was half gone, but it was still clear to the whole group that this was one of the tracks of the missing persons. Glenn tilted his head at this thought. He turned toward Tarana, nudging her on the shoulder.
"Did we find the bodies of the disappeared?" Glenn whispered, making it so that only the girl could hear him. Tarana shook her head slowly, trying to understand what he was getting at.
He threw a careful look around, before glancing back at the footprint.
"Are you sure that they're dead? The Silver fixers and the lumberjacks?" He asked with his raspy, broken voice. The small speaker shrugged, before answering.
"I kind of assume they are. When you disappear for longer than two weeks, that means you're probably gone." Glenn scowled at her explanation.
'Wow, imagine if they're just walking in circles in the forest like what you're doing right now?' Diamanes commented sarcastically.
The young man's grip on his sword tightened. Why did his first Raid have to be so...dreadful? The group silently agreed to follow the footprints to try and find their owner. There is always a tacit agreement that saving a person took more importance than slaying any beast, unless slaying said beast allowed them to save the people.
Guided by the Southern Continent tracker, the team progressed through the silent forest. Each twig they stepped on made them snap in surprise, the atmosphere of the forest weighing on them. They continued for an hour or so before they finally reached something.
A cliff. Out of nowhere, they suddenly arrived in front of an absurdly large hole in the ground, wide enough for it to fill their eyes. They all stopped in front of the hole, staring with bewildered expressions at the footsteps that seemed to indicate that whoever they followed jumped in there.
"What the hell is going on?" Tarana blurted out, unable to contain herself. She didn't scream, but it wasn't silent either. Nonetheless, the team was too busy being shocked by the presence of this massive rift to care about the girl's loss of composure. Because, inside their minds, they couldn't help but imagine the kind of thing that made this possible. What can be strong enough to make this, in full view of anyone's eyes? They were still in King's Rise after all, how was it possible that no one managed to see that? Because, honestly, it was really hard to miss.
"I...I think we should do a strategical retreat," Wilbur calmly said, well, he tried to look calm, but the look in his eyes and the shaking of his armor betrayed his nervousness. Glenn looked back, trying to peer inside the dark forest, but he couldn't see far no matter how hard he tried. A scream made him jump in surprise and turn on his feet with a fighting stance. Tarana was looking at the ground with wide eyes, her hands covering her mouth.
On the ground was a hand. To be more precise, it was Javier's hand. They could recognize it because of how pale it was, so pale it was almost transparent. It was resting in a small puddle of blood, dripping drop by drop, the small noise disturbing the silence of the forest. Glenn's eyes widened, but he only gripped his sword strongly, his heart beating in his chest with heavy thumps. That's when he realized. That it wasn't his heart thumping so loud. He looked at Wilbur and Tarana's faces, seeing that they just noticed as well from how terrified their faces were. Under their feet, the ground was beating like a heart, as if veins in the dirt were giving them the pulse of some unknown being.
'Glenn, this isn't a Corrupted One or a monster,' Diamanes said with a grave tone in his mind, 'It's way worse.'
"How worse are we talking?" Glenn asked aloud, his voice scraping against his damaged throat, the apprehension making him forget that he wasn't alone with his left hand. The others looked at him with worried expressions but stayed silent nonetheless.
'Worse than anything you've met before. Even worse than...me,' The entity answered, reluctantly saying the last part. Cold sweat broke down his spine, and his breathing became ragged. Something worse than Diamanes? Even today he hadn't forgotten how powerful Diamanes felt back when he first met him, in his fleshy lair. Glenn wasn't stupid, he knew the entity was more powerful than he let on. But to imagine that what was probably hunting them down was even stronger than that? What were they supposed to do?
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
His thoughts were brusquely interrupted when an object entered his peripherical vision, approaching with great speed. Not having the time to dodge, he summoned his Magic Wall with a thought. His casting speed had jumped so high that he could practically use magic instantly now, as long as it was a spell he mastered. Whatever flew toward his face bounced off the wall, falling back on the ground. Dismissing the spell, he discovered that the said object was...a branch? Who would throw a bra–
Swish!
The branch moved once again, going for his legs as if it were trying to sweep him off his feet. Reacting instinctively, he accurately struck the branch down, pinning it to the ground in a splurge of green, sticky sap. Studying it closer, Glenn discovered that it wasn't a branch but a root, coming from who-knows-where. It was wriggling on the ground, before retracting itself, cutting a long gash in its body, before sinking back in the dark forest. Tarana and Wilbur had witnessed the scene with hardened faces, ready to intervene at any moment, but didn't do so when they saw that Glenn could perfectly manage by himself.
"It's the whole damned forest!" The young man croaked, raising his sword readily. If any more roots/plant tentacles he would slice them like sashimi. He retreated beside his two companions, both being ready to act at any time. Wilbur was awkwardly raising his shield, mostly shaking but still standing strong, while Tarana had two falxes swords held in front of her in a crossguard. In their back was the gaping hole and in front of them the forest. They had nowhere to run, and certainly couldn't go back in the forest.
"Can't you control plants?" Glenn tried to yell, but his broken voice only managed a barely understandable phrase.
Tarana shook her head slowly, fear creeping on her face.
"I...I can't! They're not listening! It's as if...as if I'm trying to control something... something so evil!" She was stuttering, beads of sweat falling from her forehead. It looked as if she already tried to use her innate power without him asking, but was unable to do so.
"It's...It's..." She struggled to breathe, her eyes bloodshot,"...We need to leave!" She coughed heavily, kneeling on the ground. The girl shook her head dejectedly, wiping off the blood on her chin. Glenn clenched his teeth, keeping his eyes on the dreaded forest. Another root shot out of the forest, aiming for Tarana, but a swift slash of Glenn's sword cut it in half, leaving a wriggling root dying on the ground. The green-brown root suddenly became as dry as dead wood, before becoming completely white and bursting in ashes. There was nothing left of what the young man just cut on the ground.
Another root fused, this time stopped by Wilbur with his massive shield, crushing the root under the weight of it.
"RAMPART!!!" He yelled, giving himself courage. A second later, it was Tarana who cut off another root, cutting it in small slices, deftly wielding her two falxes, one with an inversed hold and the other normally. Slowly but surely, the speed and quantity of roots increased, pushing them back toward the cliff. They held their ground for a while, covering themselves and their surroundings in green sap/blood. Glenn could keep on going like this for a while, but after taking a quick look, he found out that his two comrades didn't have as good of a stamina as he did.
Tarana was sweating profusely, and even if her breath was calm and measured, it was clear that she was beginning to exhaust herself. Wilbur, in comparison, was red like a tomato, and gasping for air at any moment. His heavy armor and shield didn't help, as any movements he made tired him more and more.
'Alright, so I have a suggestion, but you probably won't like it...' Began Diamanes carefully. Glenn deflected another flying root, cutting it in half, before answering.
"Whatever you have in–cough," The young man rubbed his throat with a painful expression, reminded once again that talking was quite a hurtful idea. He ignored his companions' puzzled gazes as he answered mentally to Diamanes.
'Whatever you have in mind, tell me now!'
Diamanes coughed lightly.
'Well, you need to trust me and jump in the hole.' Glenn's eyebrow twitched. How great, either he died killed by roots, or by falling. What a nice choice.
Diamanes chuckled tensely. It was the first time that the young man saw the entity so uneasy.
'You also need to give it a strong distraction, before jumping, or you'll get killed mid-air by those roots,' He explained, his words strangely rushed. Glenn shook his head, before deciding to trust his companion. He turned toward his teammates, before pushing them in the hole with a powerful shockwave. He didn't have the time to witness their surprised expressions so he jumped while turning mid-air, aiming his right hand toward the forest, where he could see a hundred roots rushing toward them. His teeth clenched, he held his right arm with his left hand, canalizing his power.
"Blackhole," Glenn's voice had a deep, croaked hint to it, as he pronounced this word. A black, microscopic orb came out of his palm, heading calmly for the barrage of roots. The light and reality itself seemed to get vacuumed into the small orb, making it grow larger. As he was falling down the hole, his Mana completely drained and his consciousness slipping away, he smiled, witnessing the enjoyable sight of the roots getting eaten by the Blackhole, as everything swirled around the spell and got absorbed by it.
Hopefully, he'll wake up before dying from the fall.
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Jack was probably the best lumberjack in the whole of King's Rise. If they excluded the ones using Aura, of course. Those darn cheaters. Fifty years of experience, arms as thick as the trees he cut, and skills mastered to perfection. That's who he was, Jack the Lumberjack. He won twenty-three cups in the annual Woodcutting competition, his record being five seconds to cut a two-meter-wide tree. Today's record, actually, for this year's competition. He knew no friends or family of his would believe him, after all, how could they? It was impossible to do it in one try. But he didn't care, because somehow, he succeeded in doing it in a way that culminated his years of experience and his incredibly well-trained, tree-cutting body.
Every lumberjack in King's Rise participated in the competition, and every one of them watched him do it. That truly was a magnificent cut. His trusty axe, Half-Moon, had hacked at the thick tree with grace and might, felling it in one clear swoop. Ahh, how good it felt when he saw the expression on this arse-face of Justin. "Hack this, hack that", yeah, try and do what I did, dumbass!
Anyway, he was now convinced that he was the best lumberjack of King's Rise, no, of the whole world! Even with such a title, he wasn't sure he would be able to cut the tree in front of him. That was the last obstacle to making him the best lumberjack of all time. A tree that never got cut despite the years, hidden in the deepest part of the Blessed Grove. Its core was hidden behind a steel-like, dark bark, and it towered over the whole Grove, dominating it like the king of the forest. For respectful reasons, it had been named the Ancient Tree and was the dream of any skilled lumberjack. There even was a prophecy that the one who hacked the Ancient Tree would be able to hack the world in half, like the swordsmen of legends.
A hand slapped him on the shoulder warmly, waking him up from his trance.
"Come on, bro, you can do it! If you can't, who will?" His little brother, Jacky, also a lumberjack, encouraged him with a confident smile. His colleagues lumberjacks were also cheering up on him. Jacques, Jacko, Jake, Jakey, Jaque, Jac... They all smiled while clapping loudly, to try and give him the strength he needed for this incredible endeavor. Even Ja was there, the one whose mom died before she was able to say the full name, cheering loudly at him. As a judge, Mr. Sawyer, the carpenter was also there, but a big smile was already on his face, and he was cheering on him. It was a tradition for the winner of the Woodcutting competition to try and cut the Ancient Tree, even if no one ever managed to do so.
With such support, Jack felt like the souls of the Giants were empowering him, giving him the strength he needed. He breathed deeply, seized his cherished Half-Moon, and finally gave the swing. He could only give it one shot every year, and this one was the twenty-third one. No, this would be the one! The gest was filled with the pinnacle of his skill and might, surpassing any of his previous swings.
Silence seized the public as Jack swung his axe, the blade hitting the bark, at last, resonating with a loud noise. For a second, everyone sighed, disappointed, until the axe fell back, and a slight cut was uncovered at the place where Jack just hit the tree. A second of silence passed before loud cheers erupted in the forest. Jack dropped his axe in disbelief, tears of joy slowly falling from his face.
"Jack! Jack! Jack!" Everyone was yelling his name, but he couldn't hear them, still too shocked to understand what was going on.
Because he was the only one still staring at the slight cut he had just done on the Ancient Tree.
And it bled black.