Before his bleeding even stopped, Harrow jumped at the opportunity presented to him.
The hypnotic spores didn’t affect him as much. However, the dull bugs weren’t safe from their reach. Giant ants, bees, beetles, or cricket-like bugs flew to their deaths willingly, intoxicated by the spores.
Harrow stayed clear of the paths of the more agile bugs—especially the bees. However, he didn’t let any of the ants pass to their death. No, he killed them himself, squashing their shell-like exoskeletons with wild abandon, one after another.
He kept at it for a quarter of an hour. His feet were smeared in purple fluid from all the hard work.
By then, the plant monster had stopped emitting spores, though that hardly stopped the bugs from bolting to their deaths.
Now that he was satisfied with a couple of dozen giant ant corpses, he turned his gaze to a beetle that had almost fled from the trap of the plant monster. The black beetle was twice as big as the largest ant he had killed but injured to the point that it couldn’t fly straight.
All that worked to his advantage. Harrow loomed behind it to shove his fist into its back. The injured shell cracked as he smashed it against the ground. Its struggle was finally rendered futile when Harrow leapt on top of it, squashing it with everything he had.
[You have slain an unformed creature: Iron Beetle.]
[Unformed Core: +2%]
“Whoa!”
Within mere seconds, the familiar current pulsated through his chest. This time he was prepared for it, so he could feel it stronger than the previous times. His whole body warmed up, eliciting a sharp pain through his bones and muscles.
Harrow squirmed on the ground, clenching his jaw to suppress his scream. Pain was familiar, pain was a universal companion--every awakened endured pain because there was no path without pain. If there was such a path it isn't worth taking.
He uttered the words of the Autarch in his mind like a mantra, hoping it would ease the pain. It did not. But it distracted him just enough to endure through it.
The agonising moment passed, leaving a relishing feeling of awe—an awe at how lively he felt. Even the wounds he had received from the jagged petals closed up, though not completely healed.
He would need to kill a couple of dozen beetles like this to reach another percent of progression—or maybe something more menacing. Harrow had a perfect target in mind.
Harrow jumped to his feet and found himself soaring a couple of metres into the air, his body light as a feather. A grin split his scrawny face.
Now it was time to deal with the freaking tree.
After having the bugs as breakfast, the flower monster reverted to its beautiful state, recoiling its serpentine stem into the hedge. Harrow would be a fool to fall into its scheme again. Quietly, he collected a few of the ants he had killed and crept closer towards it. He rested six dead ants in a heap just beyond its reach and peered at where his relic lay.
“Hey there, nice day, isn’t it?” he called, holding out a corpse. Maybe the monster plant had some form of intelligence, even if it couldn’t communicate.
“I guess you’re just not like most trees. How ’bout this? I’ll give you this tasty, delicious, not-so-juicy corpse of a giant ant in exchange for you refraining from eating me.” Harrow shook the corpse around, trying to gauge its attention. “You know, it’s quite special, freshly killed by yours truly, Harrow the fearless. I know you want it. Well, you can have it, just... be a little less vicious, okay?”
Honestly, it felt stupid to talk to a tree, but it pushed aside the nervousness gnawing at his heart.
Harrow took another cautionary step, his eyes drawn to the obsidian knife. He sucked in a deep breath and threw the ant at its head. The fiend lurched up off the hedge, and the maw opened in the middle of the petals as it devoured the corpse completely. It let out a high-pitched shrill. Satisfaction? No, it wanted more!
“I have more?” Harrow grinned, raising two ants and clutching them by their appendages. He prepared to throw them, dashing towards his weapon. “Go and get it!”
He threw the corpses in two different directions. No matter which one the plant monster chose, it had to reach for its food. That had been his plan. As the plant lurched to collect the ant to its left, Harrow bolted to where his weapon lay.
The baits worked as Harrow lunged at his tool. He rolled over to swiftly fish out the knife. On the other hand, the plant monster caught onto the corpse sooner than he had anticipated.
Harrow swore inwardly, but instead of trying to escape, he lunged towards the hedge where the stem stuck to the ground. That had been his plan, to begin with.
The flower head didn’t go for the second ant lying on the ground. No, it twisted its head to shoot for him. Its mouth opened in a screech, aiming to take a bite of his leg. Harrow lurched towards the stem as the maw missed him by only a small margin. Before it could attack again, he lunged at it, pinning the ebony dagger to the green bark. Even if he couldn’t kill it, he was confident of escaping in one piece. The beetle had done it, and its wit was literally nonexistent.
The serpentine stem lurched. Harrow struck again, hacking the dagger continuously, using all of his augmented strength. The flower head reeled at him in self-preservation.
Harrow waited for the Sacrifice option to expand before his eyes. But no such thing happened, much to his distress. So he could only double down on his plan and hack relentlessly at the bark, working for the utter destruction he sought.
The blade had no trouble finding purchase either. It was an Ascended Relic, not just in name, even if it was ill-equipped for the job.
[Essence Plundered.]
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
[Essence Plundered.]
[Essence Plundered.]
Finally, something! He wasted no time in celebration, twisting his legs around the stem and hacking without a care in the world. The undulating flower struck at his back constantly, but it couldn’t quite find the elevation it needed to strike a blow that would dissuade Harrow from his work.
“God-fucking-damn!” It was agonising—the jagged petals tearing through his tunic to bite into his skin, worse than anything he had endured under Master Onearm and his disciples.
Clenching his jaw in grim determination, he twisted his legs tighter around the stem and began hacking with ruthless efficiency.
“Bad tree!” Harrow shouted, yanking his dagger and plunging it repeatedly into the same spot. Dark green liquid poured out in a spray, its smell entrancing, melting his pain away. “You could’ve lived happily eating those bugs.”
The flower head struck again, wounding him. His already torn shirt turned threadbare in mere seconds, but he worked through the pain, as though the monster had turned him into a true hater.
Green liquid bubbled onto his palms and body, while the intoxicating aroma stunned his senses. His pain dulled, but his instincts screamed, forcing him to keep working.
Before Harrow lost himself in the intoxication, the monster became sluggish. Its attacks barely mustered any force now. He was successful in penetrating it multiple times, enough to create a deep hole, causing the stem to dislocate.
The flower monster screeched, and its scorching red petals distorted. Madness filled the plant monster as it hurled at him in a final desperate attack. The dagger-like teeth in its maw twisted and contorted, looking fiercer than ever.
“You know,” Harrow said, panting. Green liquid bubbled on his palms and body, while the intoxicating aroma numbed his senses. “I’m finally starting to understand you. You just want to eat, don’t you?”
He lunged to climb higher above the wounds he had inflicted, forcing all his weight and strength onto the stem to split it further. Its undulations ceased, unable even to carry its own weight. The creature couldn’t muster any real attack anymore. It did try to strike with its mangled head, but it was too slow. Finally, the stem snapped, rendering all its madness futile.
The plant wasn’t dead yet, though he had almost completely severed its stem. A flood of juice poured from the crack. Did he need to sever it entirely or uproot it to kill it?
Severing it completely was easily achievable, but he felt uprooting it might be counterproductive. Who knew how deep its roots extended into the earth?
Thankfully, the Sacrificing enchantment finally triggered, relieving him of the burden. A prickly sensation came to his palm, and Harrow accepted it before the option even appeared.
[Claiming Sacrifice!]
[You have slain an Unformed Forestfiend: Rose Hunter (Tainted).]
“Whew!” A warm power surged within him again, driving away his exhaustion momentarily. But it wasn't enough to raise his Core by another percent. “All this for…”
He winced as the green serpentine trunk melted into mist and light. Harrow fell to his knees, coughing violently. The tree monster vanished, but his arms were still drenched in green juice. It shimmered like nectar.
A small white ball, uneven and oozing juice, appeared when the smoky mist cleared. He rasped, picking up the uneven white ball and fixing his gaze on it, hoping the system would reveal its secret.
[Rose Hunter’s Root Essence:
Hint: Alchemy material. Can be ingested directly to recover from essence exhaustion.]
“This is going to be useful,” he rasphed. But his attention soon shifted to the buzzing noise behind him. Harrow squinted and turned to see a giant beetle flying towards him.
Although the plant had vanished, its intoxicating nectar and spores had not. Most of it was smeared on his body. He sniffed the liquid on his arms, and his expression stiffened. He reeked of the same smell as the Rose Hunter—and with alarming intensity.
“Kismet’s teats!”
The giant beetle, nearly twice the size of his head, hurtled at him. Harrow raised his dagger in defence, but its jet-black shell was too hard to crack. The inky dark knife was deflected, so he followed up with a kick that flung the creature several metres away.
Unfortunately, the dead flower monster hadn’t summoned just one beetle. Dozens of ants from the surrounding trees converged on the scene. A smaller number of bugs, beetles, bees, and other flying insects joined their ranks soon enough.
Half the swarm went for the remains on the ground. The rest made Harrow their primary target.
He cursed his luck and quickly gathered all the bolts within reach. Before he could collect them into his quiver, he had to strike at one of the beetles attacking him. The strike felled it, but there were dozens more, assaulting him from all directions.
[You have slain an unformed creature: Iron Beetle.]
He didn’t stay to find out what other creatures the nectar might summon. Collecting his wits, he made a run for it. The dumb insects gave chase, drawn by the intoxicating scent he carried.
“Solas!” he screamed as a sting bit into his back. It felt like an icy cold keel piercing his body, followed by an unbearable burning agony.
He killed half a dozen of them, hacking with his dagger in wild abandon as he dashed, claiming essence and sacrifices alike. But the numbers were too overwhelming for him to handle. Harrow needed to find a way to escape their pursuit—and he needed to do it fast. It would be a lot easier if he could remove the nectar from his body.
[You have slain an unformed creature: Iron Beetle.]
[You have slain an unformed creature: Pincher Ant.]
...
[You have slain an unformed creature: Hunter Bee.]
He bolted through the looming woods, twisting and turning among the towering trees. The buzzing of bugs never ceased, nor did his heart stop pounding. Something bit into his shoulder, and he jerked it off, swinging the dagger. The distinctive crunch told him it was another beetle.
Lactic acid built up in his lower muscles, spasming with burning indignation, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The insects were still buzzing in his ears, still after him.
Harrow wheezed, panted, and cursed, almost certain now that if anyone was overseeing the trial, they hated him. Because this kind of bad luck could only be intentional.
They were probably having a blast, laughing at his expense.
[You have slain an unformed creature: Hunter Bee.]
...
[You have slain an unformed creature: Pincher Ant.]
[Unformed Core: 3%]
Pain ripped through his core like a landslide, eliciting a sharp groan. Harrow was in no potion to think about the Autarch's wisdom. He already had enough problems to distract him from the agony. The power-up was welcomed. It drove away his exhaustion, and augmented his form in ways he barely figured out.
Powered up, he dashed with renewed vigour. The thick forest gradually gave way to rough, rocky terrain. After a few moments, he discerned he was on a ridge, which likely led to a stream. Hopefully.
The ridge was high—about a few metres—but not high enough to pose any mortal danger, even if he mistimed his jump. Honestly, he wasn’t sure of that as he decided to jump. Then again, what choice did he have? At least his augmented body would help.
He knew how to swim, though diving had never been an option he entertained. First time for everything!
Somewhat relieved, he charged and vaulted into the stream, screaming at the top of his lungs.
This was merely an hour into this madness, and Harrow was already exhausted, delirious, beaten, and screaming pathetically to no end. He didn’t even know—or care—what horrors beyond his comprehension awaited him next.