Aargh!

Dammit, this hurts. My shells little garden is now stained with red as blood leaks out of my shell.

I managed to lead them on for a bit into a ravine, but ultimately we ended up in a corner against the side of a cliff, so with no way to escape, the only thing I can really do is last as long as I possibly can, hoping for reinforcements. And other less reliable methods.

It's been an hour or two by now and a strenuous experience the whole time, as my shell has begun showing cracks and my soles are bleeding from the effort of keeping steady.

I've been doing my best to fight back, using stake strikes, using the vines to fight back, even erecting defenses in an effort to trip my foes, but none of it works quite the way I'd wanted.

Of course not. This is only my second evolution, and these are still C-rank to B-rank foes.

In the tunnels which I had prepared I controlled the environment and was able to use it to gain a step on them, but here in the open the advantage goes to the agile elven scouts.

Dammit, my vines have been cut to all help, and there's only so much regenerating that can happen from what I can tell.

Thank goodness I'm a defense type, because had I been an agile type of fighter I likely would've been outpaced and cut down.

However, what that means is that I'm essentially just sitting here and taking it all, so one would argue that this is just a drawn out form of execution.

There's also a chance they're just screwing with me in frustration after failing such a mission, since they've been taking their time dodging and scratching my shell in what I assume is supposed to be excruciating.

It hurts for sure.

Not the worst pain I've endured, but unpleasant all the same seeing the gouge marks on my shell that my regeneration skill can't keep up with.

Nonetheless I must persevere.

I will not falter.

Death is no excuse to give up.

Those potato mines are prepared right?

The potato mines thanks to their subtle color and inconspicuous form, paired with their ability to be planted underground meant that I can hide them from the sight of the enemy.

Alright then, time for one hell of a gamble.

My vines are torn, so unfortunately I can't use them to grapple them and drag them in, but that's fine, they'll work into the illusion instead. It's not like I could've used them to drag in a pair of C-B ranks anyway.

My vines flop, and I start panting slowly, letting the exhaustion seep in. That's how you act, letting your real feelings help accentuate the acting. I am tired after all.

So I begin backing into the side corner that they have driven me.

"Look, he's fleeing!"

"Like hell he is! If I'm dying a failure because of this tree freak than he's going too! Flee all you want you little tree pot!"

They start advancing slowly, as if to savor this. The looks on their face are appropriate for bandits

And so, I keep trailing back, and little by little I lure them under the cliff as my breathing grows more laboring, and the blood keeps flowing.

Soon my shell is bumping against the back of the wall, and they're under the cliff with me.

I can't help but snort at how easy this was.

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"That! That damn thing just snorted at me! I'm going to rip its shell off!"

No you won't

Confusion runs through their face as they hear a voice echo in their head.

Boom!

The ravine rumbles as it comes down, thanks to a little effort by my potato mines. I don't want them able to escape after all, so a ravine happened to fit my needs to the letter.

The confusion shits into realization. Too little too late as the rocks come tumbling down, as one of them knocks out one elf, maybe killed.

"Damn it! Another trap! The turtle was behind them all along!"

Yeah, took you a while. Did you think a kid planned all this?

Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. Goodbye!

boom

A tiny boom occurs behind me as I explode a small cluster of potato mines.

Not very explosive, but I essentially created them to take up space, and now that they're gone, there's enough space to lodge myself into before quickly shutting myself in.

The elf sees me doing so but is helpless to do anything as she attempts to flee.

I don't really care. If she flees then she's still no longer my problem and if she fails here and dies, then she's still not my problem.

I'm a lot more worried about whether I'll survive this rockfall, since there's a chance I won't even get out.

So I take one last look around the shelter I have made before going to sleep.

Whether this will be my shelter or my tomb remains to be seen.

----------------------------------------

Servante and Lenore finally arrive at where the trail wen cold, finding themself at a dead end.

In spite of their desire to help Willow's benefactor, they had quickly traveled back to the village and dropped off Willow before rushing back. As the guards assigned to protect her, it only made sense that they prioritized her. It wouldn't be due for her to be killed by any surviving scouts due to carelessness.

And if the benefactor was dead, it was probably best that the child did not see. They could tell her the turtle went back into the forest to comfort her.

The trail ended at a huge pile of rubble, of which Servante and Lenore was sure due to the dead scout sticking out of the rubble.

Servante analyzed the corpse. "Death by bleeding, multiple puncture wounds, likely due to the rock fall."

Lenore nodded. "I don't see the turtle or the other scout for that matter. You don't suppose..."

Servante looked at the pile of rubble, while looking for any signs of life using his mana detection spell, an efficient way of looking for living beings, though in some cases predators and fighters are more than capable of hiding theirs.

"I can sense one living being in that rubble, though the mana signature is unsteady."

"Alright. Where?" she asked as she walked over the pile of rubble, ready for excavation.

Turtle or scout, either way it would be beneficial for them to dig them up. If the scout unfortunately survived, they would have a source of info in regard to who called for this attack on them, regardless of how little.

Using her bare hands, the elf Lenore began lifting rocks, following Servante's instructions.

They found the other elf scout dead first, due to blunt force trauma, likely by one of the many sufficient rocks within the vicinity.

They eventually found the turtle in a hidden enclave, likely dug by the creature itself.

The turtle was healing, but still in a rather critical condition, so they decided to take it back to get it some first aid to speed up the healing process.

"Looks like a bush turtle." noted Lenore as she examined the turtle, who seemed exceptionally small for his species, being little larger than the size of a child.

Servante disagreed. "Not quite, it might look like a bush turtle, but if you look at the plant in question, it looks more like a tree rather than a bush. A forest turtle. Rarer than bush turtles, but not an uncommon variant."

Lenore frowned as she thought about it. "That doesn't feel right though. A E-rank monster managed to kill 2 C-rank monsters?" she narrowed her eyes as she stared down at the turtle resting in her grasp. "It's also weird how active this turtle has been."

Servante nodded in agreement before adding on with a frown. "Hold on, this isn't normal wood." he noted giving it a closer look, before surprise bloomed on his face.

"Ironwood" he said, and Lenore also looked surprise. "Really?" she questioned. "I know forest turtles come with many forms of trees like birth and oak, but I didn't know they could have ironwood as a base."

"They don't" stated Servante as gears started moving in his head. "This creature... is a variant for sure." before he'd merely commented that off-handedly, but now examining the wood, he had a guess. "Ironwood forest turtles. They're recorded in some obscure books as a documented variant of a variant, but they're rare for sure. They're usually killed or grabbed by private groups before they can be examined by biologists or nurtured. To think we would find one here..." he breathed in exclamation.

Lenore shrugged. "Who cares. We promised Willow we'd bring back her savior, and we have him, so we'll bring him. Unless someone looks really hard, they'll mistake it for birch, and after we leave people will likely be none the wiser. It seems smart enough for that." Lenore turned to leave, with no hesitation in her actions. She didn't want to think about consequences, just to make Willow a little happier.

Servante nodded unconvinced but seeing no point in arguing that point decided to leave with Lenore and to head back to the village.

And yet he was worried, very much.

There was something weird about this creature, and now it turned out to be a variant of sorts. Was this premeditated? He didn't know who was behind this, and now there was no evidence. Were they really so lucky.