Wraithwood Botanist

Chapter 38 - Nymbrel

My heart released a double thump, pushing blood into my arms as the beasts drew near. The world naturally slowed around me, and my ears twitched, survival instincts primed and ready to go.

There weren’t a few of these beasts—there were a dozen, and they were barrelling through the woods quickly, creating sound patterns I had never heard before. There was no gallop of hooves or rustle of grass under paw. Branches were breaking, and leaves were whipping.

No.

The sound came from clawed wood and the sway of canopies. I’m not sure what was happening—but it wasn’t good.

"I’m running, Kline!" I yelled and booked it. That sounds dumb, but consider the context—these beasts had super hearing and I was going to be rushing over grass and brush and ground cover. They would hear me if they hadn’t already. By contrast, Kline would need to return to me before I could start running—and that was a problem. That’s why I announced it before I burst through the forest at full speed, avoiding poisonous plants the best I could—

—preparing to use the anti-toxin if I had to.

My foot scraped against a rock, stinging but giving me fuel, matching my heart. I weaved around a massive tree, passing between two orange bushes.

Suddenly, the haunting screech flew right behind me like a truck smashing into a car, and I could see something hit a tree doing sixty. I thought that it painted the tree red, but it was intentional. Even from the dark spot in my periphery, I saw it jump from the trunk, releasing another screech as it gained on me.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!"

I jumped over a rotting log, putting a tree between us. Yet it didn’t help. The creature jumped from the tree it was on onto a tree just to my right like it was playing ping pong. It was like a cross between a werewolf and a sugar glider, flying between trees and latching onto them.

I quickly dove forward as it crashed into the tree I was next to.

Between the trees! I thought. I needed to angle myself so that there weren’t trees for it to fly to. After all, there was a damn good reason that it couldn’t touch the ground. That’s how evolution worked!

I angled myself with the tree so it would have to fly past me. It understood my ploy and flew to a tree beside me, hitting it and then immediately jumping. I moved my head just in time to see its claws rip into my shoulder, drawing blood but narrowly missing my head.

My heart nearly stopped, and I nearly froze, but I didn’t. My mind kicked into overdrive, and my mind snapped back into that Moxle Dilation groove that I had practiced for hours that day, and the world instantly slowed.

I could see the hairy creature grab the tree at normal speed, as if time hadn’t slowed, press its legs on the tree, bend, and rocketed forward. I barely connected the acceleration spell and ran before it moved past me again.

That was close!

I remembered the world shattering and speeding up, and I knew that if I didn’t kill this thing, it would soon break me. So, instead of running, I slowed time more until my head started hurting, turned, and lifted Nymbrel, pulling back the string.

Words cannot express what it’s like to interact with a soul weapon. I felt my body merge with it like it did with Yakana, and I could feel the mana within it. I immediately linked it to my own and let it siphon mana from me. As it did, the runes and arrays tattooed on the bow got brighter and hotter until I could feel my bones trembling. A bright white bolt materialized, and my world dimmed as if I started wearing welding goggles.

It was overbearing, but the creatures must’ve been nearly blind. I could see its face contort, but it didn’t shy away. It locked into a tree and thrust out at me. It was fast—far faster than I could aim. It was going to hit me!

Suddenly, Kline jumped out of nowhere, catching it mid-air, sinking his teeth into the creature’s neck with surreal force, causing it to scream out as its neck cracked.

Thank—

I couldn’t count my blessings. The two creatures chasing Kline suddenly came into view. I turned my bow to them and yelled, "Close your eyes!" at Kline. The words came out slow, but I saw Kline comply as he turned around.

My world turned nearly black as my bolt increased in size and vibrancy. It was like a little sun—and then I released the string. Under hyper-slow motion, I could tell that I would’ve missed with a normal bow. I was off by a few feet—but it didn’t matter. The arrow became a meter wide as it shot through the forest like a railgun, clipping the creature’s shoulder and swallowing the wing. Then the blast went forward, punching a massive hole into a tree before continuing on.

The blackness dimmed after that, revealing the normal world again.

Then, she continued to watch diligently until Mira opened her eyes. The brivelts didn’t return.

3.

I opened my eyes to feeling like I was hung over. My head was throbbing and the sounds around me seemed like piercing needles. For a few minutes, I just tried to calm my mind, ignoring the sticky texture that was cracking around my skin, or the tickle of leaves and smell of dirt.

What happened? I silently asked. Slowly yet surely, I started patching everything back together. Once I patched enough of it together, I shot up, looking for Kline. He immediately jumped on my chest, eyes puffy and red. It wasn’t from tears. The eyes looked glazed, and I knew why.

"What happened..." I trailed off. "Oh, you poor thing. Give me a moment." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the balm. Then I grabbed him, dirt and all, and used Purify, instantly dropping all the dirt onto his fur onto myself. It was annoying, but I didn’t consider it. I pulled out the balm. "Close your eyes."

Kline didn’t want to but ultimately gave in. I purified my hand, opened the jar, and smeared some on his closed eyelids. In a moment, his eyes healed and Kline plopped onto my chest, relieved.

"I’m so glad you’re okay..." I said, finding more wounds to heal. There weren’t many.

Kline meowed weakly, shedding emotion like a snake shedding skin. I hugged him tight, grateful that we were both alive somehow—and taking note of what I learned.

Moxle Dilation wasn’t a joke. It saved our lives, but if it didn’t scare off those creatures, we would be dead. I would’ve hit the ground, and Kline would have fought to the death, dying right beside me.

In the future, it would be a terrifying weapon. Right now, it was a trump card. I couldn’t forget that. Tonight, I had to practice my mental shielding no matter what. I felt like the latest suicide quest was on a different level entirely—

—I needed every advantage I could get.

I stood and looked at the creature that Kline had killed.

—---

Name: Brivelt (Dead)

Type: Spirit Beast, Bat

Summary: Congratulations on surviving this creature, somehow—because you weren’t supposed to. Half sugar glider, half harbinger of death, these creatures cling to tree bark and then propel themselves off, gliding to the next tree before moving to another. Not only is it fast, it’s necessary. They’re notoriously sensitive to poisons, so their entire life is one big game of Avoid the Lava. But don’t worry, they’re really, really good at it. Their cackle works as echolocation, rendering stealth skills at your level useless, and their sense of smell is just as high. They swarm like a pack of wolves, and they hit a beast on all sides like cannonballs. If you didn’t sear off the little eyesight they had left, they would’ve killed you both within seconds.

Description: Bat body, humanoid torso, black fur, and the nose of a dog. They cackle a war cry as they fly through the forest.

Key Facts:

Their bodies absorb water from the atmosphere, so they don’t need to touch the ground to drink. However, this feature also makes their bodies susceptible to poison, so they are careful where they hunt.

Brivelts have a strong sense of smell to help detect poisons.

...

—---

I read through the rest of the information carefully, leaving out nothing. There was nothing in the Warning section that I hadn’t just experienced, but I was amazed by what I read. I immediately researched the Brivelts thoroughly before smirking.

These things aren’t as bad as I thought.