Swinging with as much strength as he could muster, Percy cut through the vine. At first, the blade slid right through the black growth, slicing it apart like butter. However, this was the thickest one he’d encountered by far. Consequently, the edge kept slowing down, before ultimately coming to a halt about halfway through its width.
“Shit…” Percy pulled, trying to pry the sword out of the tendril, ducking in the meantime to dodge its erratic lashes.
“Pull again!” Sengo yelled, kicking the spot right above the trapped blade, helping his ‘son’ free it.
Percy considered hacking at it again to finish the job, but the vine had already mended the damage. Realizing this was a lost cause, the two ran out of the workshop, hoping the situation was better in the rest of the house.
Sadly, that was just wishful thinking. The demonic vines had already sprouted everywhere, upturning chairs and tables, smashing through the walls and blocking the exits.
“Upstairs!” Sengo shouted again, pushing Percy towards the staircase, running right behind him.
Another vine broke through from their left, though this one was slightly thinner. Without a moment’s hesitation, Percy swung downward, using gravity to add even more strength to the blow, slicing the tendril apart before it had the chance to stop them.
“Faster!” he said, pulling Sengo up the stairs as the vine was already growing back.
The two entered a bedroom – Takeo’s, according to an influx of memories flooding Percy’s mind. Not that trapping themselves here was particularly wise, but it wasn’t like there was anywhere better to go. The whole village was a shitshow by now. At least here, the elevation coupled with a few layers of concrete might keep some of the gluttonous jungle at bay.
Brandishing their weapons, they prepared themselves again, as more vines broke through. This time, there were two of them – one digging through the floor, another climbing into the house from outside, breaking through the window.
Realizing their swords would only get stuck again, Percy gestured at Sengo to take care of the thinner of the two vines, as he tossed his katana aside, manifesting a sickle of teal mana. Next, he hacked at the infernal thing, cutting about two thirds into it again before the sickle stopped. Unlike before, however, Percy had a response this time. Switching the construct to its immaterial state, he freed his weapon before swinging it again, finally cutting the tendril apart.
Sengo raised an eyebrow at the scene, but didn’t say anything. Given the circumstances, the mystery that was Percy’s identity was clearly the last thing on his mind right now. Using his own weapon, he took care of the second vine, leveraging his bigger build – his muscles forged from decades of gruelling work.
But their trouble wasn’t over yet. In fact, it had only just begun. Two more vines smashed through the walls, and then two more, and then a fifth one right after. Father and son unleashed a flurry of strikes at the demonic plants, desperately trying to hold them back, to keep them out of the bedroom.
Through all their efforts, they did manage to carve out a small space amidst the vines, but their house was already surrounded. The wall of tendrils had blocked out the last traces of moonlight seeping through the window, forcing Percy and Sengo to fall back to their inherent night vision.
Percy didn’t even want to imagine how the rest of the villagers were faring. Even if any of them survived the ordeal, it would take them months – if not years – to clear out the village again.
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‘And decades to repopulate it…’
The young man’s movements slowed down as he contemplated how pointless his efforts were. He was fighting for a lost cause, to help a doomed people he didn’t even know merely delay their inevitable demise. What for? He wouldn’t even be here tomorrow!
Lost amidst his thoughts as he was, he failed to evade an incoming blow. A vine hit him right in the chest, slamming him against the wall. The taste of iron filled his mouth as blood trickled down his chin. Some of his ribs had also cracked, the vine greedily sucking him dry through the spots where its thorns had stabbed him.
‘What’s wrong with me?! Since when do I give up so easily?!’ he couldn’t help but wonder as his body grew cold.
It was true he couldn’t do too much for the villagers, but that had never stopped him before. He’d always tried to help people in need, even when the odds were stacked against him.
Thinking back to his actions since coming to this place, Percy couldn’t help but recognize he’d really been acting strangely throughout. Whether it was his reluctance to tell Sengo the truth, or his indecision against the raider, it was like he was a different person.
‘Is it the vines?!’
Was it possible the demonic jungle devoured more than just mana and blood? Could it be gnawing at his very willpower too?
The realization sent a chill down his spine. These demonic infestations were even more insidious than he had originally thought.
Suddenly, he felt the pressure on his chest ease as somebody pulled the vine right off him. Percy winced as the thorns were removed from his wounds, but at least he was free now. Making out his saviour’s figure through the darkness was tough, but who else could it be?
“Thanks.” he said, before pushing himself up.
Most of the fused mana in his construct was gone already, but he repaired the sickle with some more from his stash before helping Sengo again. The two fought for what felt like an eternity, as the jungle continued its relentless assault, determined to devour every last morsel of flesh, every last drop of blood on this forsaken world.
Sengo might have been the stronger of the two, but he was also older, his movements slowing as his stamina dwindled. Even Percy wasn’t doing too great, his wounds – both the old and the new – holding him back. At least, he now knew to consciously fight back against the jungle’s influence, but his host’s soul wouldn’t last much longer either.
Suddenly, he felt the ground disappear from beneath his feet, the floor having apparently sustained too much damage. He fell by about a metre before somebody grabbed his arm, slowing his fall. But not stopping it. Both he and Sengo slid down the now inclined surface, rolling right onto another vine. They were back in the workshop, though the place now looked more like the jungle Percy had seen the day before.
Stabbed in multiple spots against the tendril’s thorns, the young man knew this was it. Even if he could somehow unlodge himself, he wouldn’t be in any condition to move. Sengo wasn’t doing much better either. The man had been lucky enough to avoid impalement, but Percy could vaguely see the blacksmith’s legs bent in the wrong direction through the darkness.
‘Is it me, or are the thorns drinking my blood slower than before?’
Percy didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at the irony. The feast was probably close to its end, yet that was little consolation to him and Sengo. Their wounds were already lethal. The two just remained in that spot, the only sound breaking the sombre silence being their ragged breaths, alternating in irregular intervals.
“Sengo…” Percy muttered, forcing himself to say what he should have said a long time ago. “You know I’m not your son, don’t you?”
“…”
The man didn’t reply immediately, though Percy faintly saw him nod after a while.
“When did you find out?” he asked again.
“…the first moment I saw you.” Sengo said, causing Percy’s eyes to widen.
‘The first moment? Is that why he was crying?!’
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything…” Percy said, feeling his heart tighten. “But why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid you’d leave…” Sengo spoke, his voice cracking. “…and my boy’s face would rot.”
Percy had no words for the man. All this time, all the lessons. Teaching him about steel and concrete. Showing him how to repair a wall. Demonstrating how a sword was forged. Was it all just a grieving father’s desperate attempt to see his dead son’s face for a few more hours?!
“Sengo… I’m sorry about your son… and your village…”
“…”
“I know it’s not much, but I promise I’ll use what you’ve taught me to help others.”
Percy wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw two pale trickles flowing down Sengo’s cheeks as he nodded. Two more were rolling down his own as his soul crumbled apart, bringing his journey to an end.
There wasn’t much he could have done for these people, but there was one last thing.
“Torui village… I promise I’ll remember it.”