Two Weeks Later
Two weeks had passed, and Nyx had settled back into her usual routine. She raided dungeons, visited the Constellations, explored the forest, and continued learning more about magic and her growing powers. The Bull’s looming presence had become a constant, but she made a point of ignoring him. If he followed, he followed—it didn’t matter to her anymore.
The day she returned early from Tiger’s territory, Drac met her at the entrance of his cave. His eyes immediately sharpened, noting the unusual timing. “You’re back earlier than usual,” he said, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. “What happened?”
Nyx sighed, dropping onto a nearby rock. “You’ll never guess who I ran into today.”
Drac’s gaze darkened slightly. “The Bull.”
Nyx nodded. “Yep. He showed up at Tiger’s place, demanding my treasures. He even tried to bribe me with a skill.”
Drac’s tail flicked sharply against the stone floor. “And Tiger let him near you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge creeping in.
Nyx quickly raised her hands. “I agreed to it, okay? I thought it was just another random Constellation showing up to test me.”
Drac’s intense stare softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. “You were lucky. The Bull isn’t like the others. He’s greedy, persistent, and stubborn. He’s hunting for something. And I won’t let him use you to get it.”
“I get it,” Nyx said, trying to ease his tension. “But I wasn’t hurt, and I told him no. He’s not getting anything from me.”
Drac sighed, the tension in his massive frame easing just a little. “Good. But you still need to be careful.”
Nyx hesitated, then seized the opportunity. “Speaking of careful… can we talk about this whole chaperone thing? I’ve been really good for the past two weeks, and I think I’ve earned a little freedom.”
Drac crossed his arms. “No.”
“Please?” Nyx’s tone turned pleading. “I’ll be back before sunset, and I promise to avoid trouble.”
Drac remained silent, clearly unconvinced. Nyx’s eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together, giving him her best puppy-dog look. “I’ll be extra careful! Pretty please?”
After a long pause, Drac sighed heavily. “Fine. But if you’re not back before the sun sets, we’re going back to square one.”
Nyx beamed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Drac! You won’t regret it!”
He grumbled under his breath but allowed the hug. “You’d better not.”
Now, Nyx found herself in another slime dungeon within Snake’s territory. These dungeons had become laughably easy since she earned the title Emperor of Slime. The slimes trembled and froze at her presence, making their defeat almost too simple.
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“This is child’s play,” she muttered smugly, slicing through a cluster of slimes with ThunderClaw Slash. Their cores clattered to the ground, adding to her growing collection.
The dungeon boss, a massive slime with a glowing core, tried to muster a defense, but Nyx dispatched it with a single strike. She collected her rewards with ease, stashing them into Airy. Four dungeons in one day, she thought, feeling a swell of pride. Not bad for a nine-year-old.
After exiting the dungeon, she breathed in the fresh forest air. The vibrant colors of the sky—blue, pink, and purple—created a calming backdrop as the sun began its descent. But something felt… different.
For the first time in weeks, the Bull’s presence was gone. The air felt unnervingly light, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Nyx paused, her brows furrowing as she scanned the area with Echo Vision. Nothing.
“Weird,” she murmured. “Where’d you go, big guy?”
Though relieved, she couldn’t shake the unease creeping in. The Bull never missed an opportunity to pester her. Why would he disappear now?
Shrugging it off, she began her walk toward Snake’s territory. The forest was peaceful, the soft rustling of leaves and distant chirping of birds blending into a serene melody. But as she strolled, a sound caught her attention—a faint rustle in the nearby bushes.
Nyx stopped, her ears straining. A critter, most likely. She was used to hearing small animals scurrying about. Still, her instincts kicked in, and she activated Echo Vision again, scanning the area for anything unusual.
Nothing.
She relaxed slightly and continued walking, but then she caught a faint scent—metallic, like iron. Her brows furrowed as the smell grew stronger. A soft, plaintive cry reached her ears, faint but unmistakable.
Is that a wounded animal? she wondered, her steps slowing. The thought of a creature in pain tugged at her heart. Or could it be a trap? The idea sent a small shiver down her spine, but curiosity and compassion won out.
Each step felt heavier, the scent of iron thickening in the air. The rustling stopped as if whatever was hiding knew she was close. Nyx’s fingers tightened around her weapon, her heart drumming a steady warning. She crouched low, speaking softly, her voice gentle. “Hey there, little one. I’m here to help. Don’t be scared.”
She slowly parted the leaves, her pulse quickening. The light shifted through the canopy, casting strange patterns on the ground. The air felt still, charged with quiet tension.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here—”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Huh?” she gasped, eyes widening.
Nestled among the undergrowth wasn’t a critter. It was something—or someone—completely unexpected.
*****************************************
“I dare you to pick up that big rock,” one voice chimed, full of mischief.
Giggles rippled through the group as they gathered around, eyes wide with anticipation.
“That’s easy peasy,” the dearee boasted, stepping forward with a confident smirk.
But as they bent down and tried to lift the rock, their expression quickly shifted. Grunts and strained breaths filled the air as they struggled against the sheer weight. Despite their determination, the rock didn’t budge.
Laughter erupted from the group, echoing through the clearing.
“You lost!” someone teased, doubling over with glee.
“Fine, fine,” the dearee muttered, brushing dirt off their hands. “What’s the next dare?”
The group exchanged mischievous glances, their excitement mounting as they whispered among themselves. Finally, one of them clapped their hands, a wicked grin spreading across their face.
“Oh, I’ve got it,” they declared. “I dare you to go into the cursed forest.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Gasps escaped from several participants, and a cold hush fell over the group. Even the boldest among them hesitated, glancing nervously toward the dark line of trees looming in the distance.
Everyone knew the stories. Whispers of strange sounds, shadowy figures, and the chilling fact that no one who entered the forest ever returned. Some said the trees themselves moved to trap intruders. Others spoke of a presence—an ancient, watchful force that consumed anyone who dared step foot beneath its shadowy canopy.
The dearee’s bravado faltered, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “The cursed forest?” they echoed, their voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, even the one who suggested the dare hesitated, their grin wavering. But they quickly recovered, forcing a laugh. “Come on,” they said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Or are you scared?”
The tension thickened, the once playful game now tainted with an unspoken dread that seeped into everyone’s bones. The group’s eyes flicked back to the dearee, waiting to see if they would rise to the challenge—or back down in the face of the unknown.