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Wraithwood Botanist [LitRPG]
B2 - Chapter 18 - Motivations

B2 - Chapter 18 - Motivations

Aiden’s teeth ached from the blasting wind as Halten shot him to the top of Galfer’s Gate. His environment changed rapidly. Steel wall, then geometric arrays, and then finally, open sky.

Only then, lost in the skies above the Third Ring, did he remember the horror and terror and trauma he suffered the first time he crossed the wall. He only thought of that a second before Halten rocketed into the fray.

The forest was already alive, teaming with hatred and revenge. The second they crossed the gate, birds flooded them like locusts, creating a scene worthy of biblical texts from brutal times long past. Aiden’s mind shut down, and he accepted his fate—

—until Halten took a deep breath and released a battle cry that shocked the heavens and sent birds flying in all directions.

2.

My arms gave way when I heard a wyvern’s roar in the distance. I was fifteen miles from the Bramble, but I recognized the noises I heard during the Trial of Survival. It was just that loud.

Why is everything trying to kill me? I silently screamed, jumping to bold conclusions as I army-crawled through the water. Five seconds later, I hit a rapid and tumbled through the water like a game of ping pong, smashing into rocks along the way.

3.

Aiden snapped into focus when Halten screamed at him.

Concentrate! They’re organized!

He turned and saw formations of birds flying above and to the side of him.

Attack from the West!

Halten released a barrier that smashed into a hundred birds at high speed, like a windshield, before switching to Aiden’s eyes and gaining a broader perspective. Aiden turned, showing him more. Then Halten acted, flying in a complex pattern to kill a group, block another, and dive underneath a third. The acrobatics were remarkable for the beast’s overbearing size.

Halten Vraxle was a king—Aiden was certain of it.

Suddenly, a cloud of spores and poison erupted into the skies like during the Trial of Survival.

Domain up! Halten yelled.

Aiden did his best, but his domain was a centimeter thick and easily broken. He didn’t have soul meat to gain soul force, but Halten insisted, even though the vraxle’s domain could swallow a tanker ship, so Aiden complied.

The two rocketed right through the poison, unaffected—

—but not for long. Six vraxles shot through the poison cloud in a tactical formation.

Hold on! Halten screamed. He sharply turned and cut off the wyverns at a near-90-degree angle before shooting through the Bramble at a hundred miles an hour.

Aiden’s mind became hazy from blood rushing to his head, and he desperately wanted to give in and go limp and trust Halten would protect him. I’m not useful to him anyway, right? his mind tried to argue. If you scream, he’s dead. So just black out. You’ve successfully filled your role as a rubber stamp…

Suddenly, Aiden’s mind blanked out, and he woke up in a gym within the Claustra mansion. It had beautiful wood floors and walls that lacked embellishment—a simple space to practice. His trainer had just left him there an hour before, and he spent the whole time struggling to thread a first evolution core without making his mana channels rupture. He wanted to give up, just as he did in the skies above the Bramble, but even more so. He was in pain, exhausted—hurt.

He collapsed on the smooth wood floors and looked up at the artistically carved arches on the eighty-foot ceiling, wondering whether the influence was Eastern for its wide-open simplicity or European for the elaborate yet subtle murals over everything. He wondered how long that mansion had stood. Centuries? Millennia? Before Earthian civilization?

If you want us to stop bullying you, you needa work a lot harder than that, Brexton said, walking into the room for his combat training.

Aiden huffed. I’m normal—you’re blood. Nothing’s going to stop you from bullying anyone. You remind Everen every time you see him.

Oh, yes. I remind Everen—but you’re not Everen. Brexton took off his coat and shirt and fancy shoes as his trainer came in. You’re different. With your skills, you can join the Vestra—then it’s suddenly a lot harder for me to bully you. Right?

The Vestra were a Middle Family that specialized in beast taming. It was also the family Railain was the First Domain scion to.

Sure, they’re just a Middle Family, Brexton continued, but they have connections. If you’re invaluable to them, they could hire the Dante or convince the Melhan to run a supply embargo against us until we stop bullying you. Or, you could just spend a really, really big request doing something that made it hard for me to bully you. See, these are things that you can do because you have talent in this world. Everen? Not a chance. He’s just a leech in a land of leeches. But people with value? They rule supreme.

Are you ready? Brexton’s trainer asked.

Yeah, yeah. Brexton stretched his arms and legs and then looked at Aiden one last time before practicing. Value, Aiden. Never forget that. If you’re valuable, you can have just about anyone fighting on your behalf—and you’re valuable. You can get your life back—the only question is, are you willing to fight for it? Or… He looked at Aiden’s trembling arms, are you gonna let something like this hold you back?

Brexton proceeded to get trounced by his teacher over and over again before Aiden’s eyes, but he never gave up, and he gave it his all. It was hypnotic and engrossing and confusing, and it ate into his brain. Then he suddenly blinked, and he was back in the skies above the Bramble, on the verge of giving up from the intense pressure.

But now his blood was boiling, and he was gripping the reins and releasing a battle cry. I want my life back!

Another time! Halten yelled after the no-context declaration. Now brace!

Aiden gripped the reins at the bottom as Halten suddenly rocketed upward, doing a high-speed backflip and diving down on one of the chasing wyverns on the down stroke. The other inhaled to breathe fire.

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Fire!

Halten instantly deployed a barrier as fire crashed into them, blocking the attack with ease.

Aiden looked up and saw the purple smog swirling.

Above!

Halten switched to Aiden’s eyes and immediately reacted, charging forward just in time to avoid a massive fire attack from above.

Aiden swung from the whiplash, sending his organs crashing into his side and taking away his breath. Then they righted and shot forward as five wyverns released cries around them.

Wind blades shot from all directions. Halten blocked them with a barrier, but a massive wind blade from above shattered it and left a massive gash on the back of his neck, shredding through scales and nearly paralyzing it. Halten was a king—but he had a fraction of his soul force due to the curses.

On it!

Aiden closed his eyes and put his hands on Halten’s scales and unleashed the largest “blunt stitch” spell he could use. It was the only spell he could spread through the wyvern’s body, but it was enough. It rippled up his body and stopped the bleeding by fusing the nearest muscle fibers and skin. It wasn’t meant for healing. It was intentionally improper healing designed to stop death on a battlefield—

—and it worked.

Halten regained control and shot forward, releasing a fire breath that tore through a wyvern hovering around him like a vulture. The fire fried the beast before chasing course, clipping another two with blue flames that left them spiraling.

Aiden kept looking around, calling out Halten’s name, and the two covered all their bases as they plowed their way through the poison, sending a purple plume of gas exploding out like a bullet as they raced to make it past the Bramble.

They did.

In the skies above the Fourth Ring of the Areswood Forest, twelve vraxles flew into the safe zone, leaving the Bramble behind. They weren’t leaving.

Aiden looked at his map and saw that Mira’s marker—now visible to make the drop.

She’s East! he yelled. At the River.

The Diktyo?

Yeah!

That makes things much easier.

Halten flapped his wings with monstrous force, seemingly bending wind and space and time to launch ahead at mind-numbing speeds toward the Diktyo River.

4.

A tiny orange and white cat bounds across the rocky bluffs of Callasan Mountain. His Warp Step teleports him fifty meters at a bound—but that’s too slow. Beasts are flocking to the river, and dragons approach from the skies. Mira is in trouble, and he will not stop until he saves her.

The cat jumps off a two-hundred-foot cliff, creating a warp portal twenty feet down. It launches him backward into the rock face, which he bounces off to break his momentum. He repeats this five times in two seconds to shear a hundred feet off the fall. Then he lands on a bridge of raw mana and runs down the skies as if the air were as solid as land.

Beasts and dragons are coming for Mira—but so is he.

5.

I’m not sure when I realized that what happened before wasn’t an isolated incident, but when it sank in, it was terrifying. Whenever I gasped for air, I saw white silhouettes of beasts attacking me in the fog and saw the black silhouettes of real beasts behind them. I couldn’t differentiate between their chattering growls and guttural cries. Everything was blending into a surreal parade of dead and living beasts, all fighting to kill me. I didn’t understand.

After a deep breath, I submerged myself in the rapids and called out, Yakana!

One second passed, or perhaps it was ten minutes, but Yakana did answer me.

Why have you brought invaders to our forest?

Why have I… what?

A past guardian and human are killing our guardians in the Bramble. Now they are moving toward this river. Why?

Yakana’s voice wasn’t chilling or damning, but he had the aura of someone who spoke little but inspired people to listen. I shivered and tried to breathe, and my lungs filled with water. I breached the surface, coughing out water in the mayhem, and then dove back in, trying to think.

Deli… Delivery! There’s a delivery!

Delivering what?

Equipment. The Oracle is dropping off the equipment I ordered!

Yakana fell silent as I surfaced and clawed for air before coming back down.

What’s going on? Can you please answer that? I’ll leave after!

I could always learn to evolve with Elana—but right now, I need to survive.

Yakana thought silently, somehow immersing me in the feeling of him thinking right next to me. He wanted to communicate that he was thinking—weighing, deliberating—judging. Then he spoke.

These souls do not hate you. They see you as their salvation.

I ran short of breath and resurfaced and returned.

Salvation? This doesn’t look like salvation!

Life’s challenges force us to value many things. A need to sate our desires for food. Our desire to have sex and propagate. To become strong and independent and protect the people we love. Yet what happens once you lose your life? Your body? Your vehicle—but your life continues on?

I hit a rock underwater and spiraled out of control, tumbling through the river until I gained purchase. I emerged from the water and coughed water from my lungs as the forest’s denizens howled and hissed and wailed. It was hard to believe that these beasts saw me as their salvation.

I don’t know! I mentally screamed when I returned. Tell me!

I could feel Yakana’s tonal shift before he even spoke. But his answer matched. Despair.

I held my breath instinctually, grabbing onto a rock underwater and fighting to keep still.

Despair…?

Yes, despair. What else is there to do when you do not still exist, but your soul lingers and no one can hear you? When you drift aimlessly, unable to see those you love, and in the rare instance they may pass by you, they cannot see you or hear you and may have moved on without you? To watch your home be burnt and destroyed. What then?

I surfaced and returned.

I’d go crazy… but… how do they think about it?

They cannot. The record captures their thoughts at death and everything before it. The brain doesn’t work—but the soul remembers. It remembers its family and its home and enemies and feels despair. Such is the agony of a remnant.

Remnant… that sounds awful.

It is. To escape that fate, souls drift to the Diktyo River to cleanse—but there’s a process. One must purify before they can purge themselves of their rage, hate, and anxiety. But they are impatient, for they are in pain now.

I pushed off the river floor and shot out of the water, taking deep breaths. My body was buzzing with oxygen deprivation, and I didn’t care about the haunting cacophony knocking at my soul. I returned.

So, what does this have to do with me? I asked, clutching at my chest. I needed mental shielding just to focus.

You now have a soul core—and thus, you may liberate them of their impurities so that they may purge themselves of negative emotions.

How?

Do you wish to help them?

Forgive me for this answer, but yes—if it benefits both of us. And right now, it certainly fucking does.

Yakana laughed—he actually laughed—and at that moment, I felt like he was—or at least used to be—a real human like me. Someone who could have taught me in high school, long before most teachers grow egos like leaves and start to indoctrinate their beliefs. A mentor. A friend. The laugh was so genuine and, for that reason, so profound in this basic sort of way, that an amalgamation of souls could share ideas so genuinely.

That will do. Now breathe, so that we may begin.