The sun was about set on the botanical garden once more when Zora and Julius led all sixteen children of class 2-D out of the greenhouse, each of them carrying a satchel filled to the brim with herbal flowers and plants they could use as medicine back in the dorm.
Last to exit was Emilia, who was effortlessly lifting Marcus and Cecilia’s sleeping bags with two arms each. Marcus alone was large enough to provide shade for her entire body, and the fact that she wasn’t just wobbling around despite the obviously imbalanced weight distribution made Zora feel like ‘striking’ the two teachers awake. Alas, the two of them had fallen into a deep slumber a few hours ago, and Julius had said they wouldn’t wake up until well into the night; even still, the rest of them couldn’t wait around the greenhouse for that long.
It was still burning, and the poisonous fumes still hung thickly in the air, but even Zora could tell the giant wall of flames surrounding the greenhouse was about to extinguish. There wasn’t much oil left in the river.
About five minutes left.
After that, there’s no stopping that Mutant-Class and its horde of giant bugs from collapsing on the greenhouse all at once.
Save for Julius, all of them covered their mouths with thick rags as they approached the wall of flames, facing south in the direction of the dorm. Thank the Great Makers the poisonous fumes blew outwards naturally, diffusing far and wide across the artificial forest so the giant bugs couldn’t just wait for them right outside the wall of flames—there was no doubt the bugs were still as close by as they could possibly be, but given it was a short three-hundred-metre run to the door, Zora believed he could at least get all the children out of the garden. If he and Julius just stayed behind to distract the bugs, surely they wouldn’t all be caught.
He didn’t want to stay behind, of course, and Julius was currently quivering in his boots as he chewed on his nails, standing at the very front of class 2-D. Zora was at the very back with Emilia right next to him—he needed to make sure nobody would get left behind as they made a break for the door—so if everything went well, they’d all be back in time for dinner in the dorm with class 2-A and 2-B.
…
It wouldn’t be easy, but he had to try nevertheless.
With a firm, resolute nod, Zora raised his wand and struck the river in front of the group, breaking and opening up a section in the wall of flames; that was Julius and class 2-D’s cue to go. Four, eight, twelve, sixteen children dashed across the river and began following Julius’ lead, sprinting into the forest with their short, clumsy legs. Julius himself reached into his pockets and smashed two vials of earth-scented liquids at their feet, camouflaging their scent as best as he could.
While Zora waited for all of them to file out of the clearing, he looked down at Emilia and gave her a small, reassuring smile.
“The moth that looks back meets the flame,” he whispered. “Do you know what this expression means, Emilia?”
She gave him a cute, knowing look, and he couldn’t resist another smile; she knew exactly what the expression meant.
“Go,” he said, kicking the back of her heel softly. “Get Miss Sarius and Mister Evander back to the dorm. Don’t stop for anything, and I’ll give you another piece of bloodberry candy after this.”
Her eyes widened. She’d already devoured half a dozen pieces of bloodberry candy during the afternoon—Julius was the one who designed the candies to smell like human flesh, after all, so she’d crawled around his study desk until she found his hidden stash—but evidently, her insect instincts were becoming stronger and stronger. It used to be that one piece of candy could satiate her hunger for the entire day, but now, he wasn’t even sure if he and Julius would have enough to last her the rest of the week.
Once the infestation was over and Julius could return to his study, he could resume cooking up a new batch of bloodberry candies for her.
Without another word, Emilia sprinted ahead with the two sleeping bags containing Marcus and Cecilia in a solid log-like position. It looked ridiculous for a ten-year-old girl to be running as fast as the other kids with two logs on her shoulders, but her strength simply wasn’t human.
Now, he must become superhuman for the rest of his students as well.
“... Strike!”
Reaching into his hollow abdomen, clenching his throat, he raised his wand and ‘struck’ the steel-reinforced ceiling, shattering an entire section of glass with a deafening crack. That was the second signal, and the artificial forest screeched to life as a rain of shrapnel fell onto the canopy; the garden rumbled as the giant bugs stormed towards his location.
At least I’m strong enough to consistently sling my spells thirty metres away now.
He ran fewer than ten steps into the forest by the time he heard sets of giant bugs collapsing on him from the east, from the west—mostly from the west. His heart thumped down into his gut, but the children were still in front of him and the silver trees were grown high and close together. He struck all of them with a few ‘rustles’, felling whole canopies to add to the noise of the chase.
The giant bugs were loud, and they just couldn’t shut the hell up.
“Circle around them and get in front!” one of the giant bugs bellowed to his left, a battering ram charging through the forest. “They’re heading for the northern door! Stop them!” shouted another group of smaller bugs, skipping and hopping on the branches overhead. “The big ones are magicians! Kill them first!” screamed another giant bug, this one’s voice getting farther and farther away as Zora continued running.
… And one of those commands wasn’t like the others.
Zora grinned as he listened to the giant bugs charging away from them, each of them fanning out in a completely different direction, none in sync. His strategy was working. The children of class 2-D were rather spread-out, and all of them were shouting the ‘magic words’ he’d taught them earlier, rattling their throats and screaming their guts out and repeating the exact same lines over and over—only, they were speaking in the tongue of the bugs, and he’d already known the rabble giant bugs weren’t particularly smart individuals.
It also helped that Julius was scattering pheromone vials left and right every twenty metres or so, confusing the giant bugs even more. Despite his timid nature, his mind for all things related to bugs and biology was the real deal; he’d spent the entire afternoon brewing pheromone vials that matched the giant bugs’ scents based on memory alone. Sure, he may be lagging behind now, and his kids may all have overtaken him already—they were only a hundred metres away from the southern door—but Zora gave him a pat on his back as they met up at the back of the group, both of them haggard and already well out of breath.
“We really… need… to exercise a bit,” Zora panted, hopping over a small fallen log as he did. “Alternatively, we could just… increase our toughness and speed and strength… but muscleman won’t appreciate us taking the easy way out, would he?”
Julius was sweating bricks, his oversized lab coat probably slowing him down by a non-insignificant amount, but he managed to shoot Zora a nasty scowl back. “I don’t… wanna! This is just… a one-time thing! I’m not built for this!”
“At least we can’t… let our kids outrun us, can we?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The two of them snapped their heads forward, watching four, eight, twelve, seventeen children and two sleeping teachers break into the clearing at the southernmost end of the garden. Nothing burst out the forest to intercept them. It was a straight path to the still-open southern door, and at this rate, the two of them were going to be a whole thirty metres behind their own students by the time even Emilia charged through the door.
So Zora gave Julius a knowing nod, and Julius gave him a weak, shaky one back.
“E-Exercise after this,” Julius agreed. “No muscleman… though. We do it by ourselves.”
“With Cecilia, too,” Zora added. “Then, all three of us can gang up on muscleman whenever he tries to bully one of us.”
“That… I can get behind–”
A gust of wind whistled through the forest behind them, and only Zora heard it coming. He made the split-second decision to cast ‘block’ only on himself, deflecting one of the antennae with a sharp twang. The other antenna speared into Julius’ back, right out through his chest, and lifted him several metres up into the air.
Zora didn’t blink.
Well.
If you really didn’t want to do ‘Operation Backstab’, then you should’ve dodged that.
Apologies nevertheless, Crystalblood.
Blood gurgled from Julius’ lips as he tried to speak, but Zora did him a favour by ‘striking’ him in the head, snapping his neck and sending him flying back towards the Mutant.
The children ducking through the door whirled one by one. Emilia also turned to see what’d happened. What was happening was the Mutant longhorn beetle trudging slowly out of the forest, retracting both its serpentine antennae as it stared at the lifeless Julius laying on the ground next to it.
Zora’s throat tightened. The Mutant was human only in form, without any of the facial expressions of common gestures that’d indicate surprise or confusion of any sort, so he couldn’t really tell what it was thinking. Its lidless, bulbous eyes were unmoving. Its four arms were folded behind its back, and though it was easily three metres tall and clad in smooth black chitin from antennae to claws, it didn’t exactly give off the impression of a feral, famished giant bug.
It was a Mutant, after all—a bug that’d devoured so many humans that it’d become something like a human, but not quite.
“...”
And, unlike the other giant bugs, it didn’t even bother pulling its mandibles apart to speak. Its Hexichor Aura was powerful; its killing pressure was powerful.
It knew he was shivering slightly.
So it only screeched once—calling the other giant bugs to its location—and with an underhanded whip, it sent its antennae flying at him. Twenty metres away. Zora heard the muscles tensing with loud snaps before he saw the actual attack coming, so he ‘struck’ both antennae away before taking a step back, clenching his jaw.
He needed to put all his strength into his voice just to deflect its attacks.
“Emilia! Class 2-D! Ignore us and run down to the dorm!” he shouted, the air cracking once more as the antennae whipped at him from the left, from the right, top, down, and straight forward; he ‘struck’ and ‘blocked’ most of them just in time, skidding back with every successful defence. “You all know Titus, right? He should be up and watching the gate already! Tell him three things only class 2-D knows, and he’ll let you–”
He hadn’t finished his sentence when it struck with both antennae at the same time, coming from opposite directions like scissor blades trying to decapitate him—he ducked and avoided getting his head lopped off with a hiss, but he had to throw himself back as the antennae stabbed down, cleaving along the ground as he scrambled onto his feet.
Looking back was unnecessary; he could hear the children of class 2-D screaming and shouting for Julius to get up, unwilling to leave the garden without him, but Zora just really, really needed them to leave.
So, without looking, he reached into his pocket and tossed a piece of bloodberry candy through the door.
Come on, Emilia.
Lead them away.
You promised you’d get Cecilia and Marcus down to the dorm, didn’t you?
The Mutant advanced slowly, unhurried but intent, but its antennae swiped and cleaved at him harder than ever before. His wand shook and rippled as he blocked with spells, sometimes by turning it into a sword, continuing to back up against the door—and thankfully, Emilia stopped standing around with the rest of class 2-D. He heard her shoving the other kids through the door, out of the garden, and he heard a faint little ‘come back, Mister Zora’ before their footsteps clattered down the stairs.
Still taking heavy blows, Zora’s heart burned with energy.
Good girl.
On the next antennae swing at his torso, he sucked in a sharp breath, ‘blocked’ the attack, and then immediately countered with a direct ‘strike’ at the Mutant’s torso. It stopped walking for a second to withdraw one of its antennae, slapping his spell away without even really looking at it. The rising dread of anticipation began to pitter-patter in his chest; it looked so calm and composed he could hardly believe it’d once been a giant bug like the others he’d fought so far, but now he understood the pattern of their exchanges.
It would strike with one antenna, and he would ‘block’ with his wand. He would ‘strike’ with his wand, and it would defend with its other antennae. They both preferred fighting at range as well, so it was all terrifically simple exchanges. The Mutant wasn’t charging into walls like the short-winged butterfly, it wasn’t dashing around like the katydid, and it wasn’t shrouding itself in any dispelling haze like the ermine moth—this was a battle of pure attrition and power, and on that note, the Mutant was twice as big as he was with inhuman speed and strength to boot. Even Marcus wouldn’t be able to outpunch this Mutant with brute power alone.
So he steadied his feet beneath him, counting down from one minute in his head.
Sixty seconds.
He kept the pressure on as he kept backtracking. Julius had already shown simple phrases could function as spells, so he started adding ‘swerve’ in front of his ‘strikes’ to make them curve mid-air, like throwing a stick of chalk around a corner to hit a running kid. If he flicked his wand left, his spell would fly left initially before curving hard right, hitting the Mutant in the side of its head.
His ‘swerving strikes’ did little damage, of course; they only landed twice and annoyed the Mutant before it adapted to his multi-directional attacks, its antennae moving at double speed to intercept all of his spells.
He'd have to hit it fifty more times before he could do any actual damage.
Forty-five seconds.
As the Mutant continued closing the twenty-metre gap, he reached into his pockets and smashed a dozen vials of poison in front of him, letting the glowing liquids seep into the earth. He ‘struck’ the earth a moment later, sending the poison clumps flying at its body. The Mutant couldn’t deflect all of the clumps, so inevitably, some of them splattered onto its chitin and made loud hissing noises—for once, his attacks seemed to have some effect. The Mutant growled and unfurled two of its arms from its back, scraping the poison clumps off its torso as it continued stabbing and cleaving with its antennae.
Thirty seconds.
With a growl of his own, Zora backed into the doorway and realised he couldn’t go any further. This was where he had to make his stand. Faintly, he heard the children of class 2-D still running frantically down the stairs, and if he could hear them, so could the Mutant with its unnaturally long antennae; he wouldn’t let it past this point.
Spells swirled around his head as he ‘struck’ the Mutant with everything he had, whipping three spells forward a second, matching the flurry of antennae attacks for the first time. He put everything into these attacks, but upon seeing him grit his teeth and strain his throat, the Mutant seemed to grin—pulling its mandibles so far apart he thought it was about to rip its head in half.
Fifteen seconds.
Just gotta hold on a little lon–
He blinked and missed it; the Mutant knew he was running out of stamina and dashed forward, black claws snapping around his throat and lifting him into the air. It was only the ring of chitin around his neck that stopped him from dying instantly, but then it jabbed its antennae into his neck as well, making him gasp in pain.
Venom.
It's going… straight to my heart.
“... Do you understand us, human?” the Mutant drawled, tilting its head and drawing him closer to its face as it did; he was too busy kicking its chest and wheezing for air to really focus on its voice. “My siblings in the south, west, and east haven't been sending their pheromone signals at our agreed-upon time for the past few days. Were you the reason? Did you deceive and devour them with our own tongue?”
He didn’t answer.
The Mutant snarled, pulling him even closer.
“Are you an old Magicicada Mage in disguise?” it snapped. “That'd explain how you can speak our tongue. If you are, then I'll make you an offer: tell me where Mother Nona's weapon is, and I'll kill you quickly–”
“So chatty… when you think you've already won,” he breathed, shooting it a pained smirk as he looked down. “And Nona’s looking for some sort of weapon… huh?”
The Mutant tilted its head again, following his gaze—and then it finally noticed the crystalised emerald hand that'd already punched through its chest.
With a bloodcurdling screech, it flung him to the ground and tried backing away, but the crystalised hand immediately spun and tossed it twenty metres back from the door. Zora fell, dropping his wand as he choked for breath. The Mutant's venom was still burning through his veins, but the all-purpose medicinal soup he'd downed a few hours ago was still in effect; he wouldn't die as long as he continued applying pressure to his neck to stop the bleeding.
… On the other hand, the scrawny, wimpy man standing over Zora couldn't die.
With a dozen glowing syringes stabbed into his neck, along his spine, and across his shoulders, the strongest teacher in the academy had resurrected.