Disclaimer: Black Clover is owned by Yūki Tabata, Studio Pierrot, and Shonen Jump.
Saga 27: Forest Part 3
Unknown Forest, Spade Kingdom?, Morning?
"PULL!" Corrin cried out as she and everyone else (sans Ogmios, Brigid, Roland, Rinaldo, and Patry) tugged on the vine rooted into the ground that is connected to the rampaging [Barometz].
Just as the creature tried to eliminate those who were about to unplug it from its power source, only for its attempts to be intercepted by Patry and his innate [Light Magic].
"If you're going to leave, then give me back the grimoire that you've stole!" the elven boy then shoots a [Mana Blast] towards the plant-goat man before closing the gap with his [Mana Weapon] in hand.
The [Barometz] then resumes clashing with Patry with its stolen [Light Sword of Judgement], the serrated light blade grinding against the beaming straight edged sword in the elven boy's hand.
"GOD, FUCKING, DAMMIT!" cursed Vanica as she pulled on the waxy hose-like vine with the others. "JUST HOW DEEP IS THIS NOODLE BURIED IN?!"
"I'd say pretty deep," Ogmios snarked as he contributed by fending off the [Treants] trying to intercept their group from unplugging the [Barometz]'s cord.
"Thanks for stating the obvious!" growled Zenon as he kept pulling with the others despite his (and his sister's) puny constitution. "... That said, what the hell's connected down there?!"
Brigid then closes her eyes to get a better idea on what's connecting the [Barometz] to whatever's lying beneath. "... No luck," the artificial spirit replied right as she dodged a hammer blow from another [Treant] before flash-freezing it and several of its contemporaries behind it. "It's too blurry! It's like I'm staring into another part of the forest rather than a source of concentrated power!"
"... That's not concerning or anything of sort!" Rinaldo remarked as he whipped around his [Froberge] in its mercurial broadsword blade shifted into a segmented whip-blade that struck the frozen [Treants], shattering them into tiny frozen bits. "We need to thin their numbers, ASAP!"
"I REALLY HATE PHYSICAL LABOR!" Moccus cried out as he and Aengus pulled on the vine with everyone else doing so.
"DON'T GIVE UP!" Aengus cried out, who among the group, was the one who pulled the hardest despite her hands already blistering and bursted a while back despite being overall the weakest. "... WE'RE SO CLOSE TO WINNING! WE HAVE TO DO THIS!"
For a moment, the vine rooted into the ground slightly moved up. Something that everyone pulling on it noticed, especially the [Barometz], whose back was connected to it.
"Where do you think you're looking?!" Patry cried out as he brought down his [Mana Weapon] down to the [Barometz]'s face, slicing one of its sunflower eyes in half before the creature retaliates with its [Light Sword of Judgement].
Realizing that simply taking out the main threat (the group pulling on its vine) won't be proficient enough, the [Barometz] opts to take everyone out within the vicinity all at once.
Patry notices this after the creature knocks him away before jumping back and began charging up a mighty spell.
Patry immediately recognizes the spell as [Light Ray of Divine Punishment]. "Oh no you don't!" he exclaimed as he sped towards the creature charging up the spell.
The [Treants] then came flooding in both directions adjacent to the eleven boy.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY, FIREWOOD!" Patry then tore through the shambling horde of walking trees with the combination of his speed and dual-wielding [Mana Weapons] in each hand to increase the vectors of his kill-range. Upon tearing through the horde, he blinks himself before the creature at it was charging its [Light Ray of Divine Judgement]. "YOU'RE MINE-!"
Unexpectedly, the creature then claps its hands between the orb of concentrated [Light Magic] in front of Patry's eyes in an attempt to blind him with the brilliant glare before jumping up to one of the trees above.
"NICE TRY!" the elven boy boasted as he emerged from the light, his charge towards the [Barometz] being unimpeded. "BUT MY EYES CAN HANDLE DIRECT SUNLIGHT-!"
The [Barometz] then belches a massive lime-green cloud of highly-irritant grass pollen into said light-resistant eyes and every working facial orifice present in Patry's physical faculties. The end result was his mouth sneezing uncontrollably, his nostrils now flooded with mucus and snot, his eyes stinging like if they were directly stung by a swarm of bees, and and his whole body colliding against the tree that the [Barometz] was on, specifically, directly below where the creature clung from.
"Oooh, that's gotta hurt," winched Brigid as everyone present saw his semi-crumpled body slide down the bark that Patry had landed face-first into before crashing onto the ground in an undignified heap. "... Hopefully, his spine can be salvaged from that kind of injury."
With nothing getting in the way, the [Barometz] then resumes charging its [Light Ray of Divine Punishment] as it climbed further above towards the canopy and summons all of the [Treants] from the surrounding area to intercept the other stragglers.
"Shit! There's now a whole other rampage of them!" Ogmios cried out as he swung his pendulum Relic [Ionróir] through the tree monster horde.
"I sense a massive surge of mana right above us!" Brigid pointed out before she was then punched across the open field and crashing into the whole group tugging on the vine.
"BRIGID!" Rinaldo cried out as it blocked another blow from the shambling tree monsters before being pinned down by three sets of hammer fists around him, the only thing preventing him from getting crushed being his own Relic. "SHIT! MERDE! MOVE YOU FUCKS!"
"EVERYONE!" Corrin cried out as she scrambled back up. "WE NEED TO MOVE-!"
The [Barometz] with a menacing bray akin to a demonic goat, roared out its complete [Light Ray of Divine Punishment] unto the hapless crowd of both intruders and [Treants] below.
But as the burning light could completely engulf them, a certain silhouette eclipsed before the glare and in front of everyone else.
"... Wait a minute," Vanica remarked as she looked from her covered sight. "... I recognize those buttocks!"
With a loud roar, Roland then brings down his [Durandal] towards the coming light, splitting the beam in two with his blade, the cleft light then burning everything that it touched sans where Roland had stood behind.
Patry slowly opens his eyes, and finds himself being greeted by a light akin to a morning dawn shining across a man's bare testicles.
"... I died and went to Hell, didn't I?" he groaned before passing out to spare himself of this horrid sight as the light from above petered.
"Roland?!" Ogmios exclaimed as he began cleaning up the remaining [Treants] that were behind the split blast.
"They all ran off so I followed them," the nude Paladin remarked before staring at the fainted elf. "... Already a casualty?"
"I think you might've dealt the killing blow," Corrin remarked. "With that, HELP US PULL THIS THING OUT!"
A menacing bray was then bleated from above before the [Barometz] jumped down from the treetops above. But just as it could bring down its [Light Sword of Judgement] unto Roland, he catches the creature by its sword arm before slamming it down and does so repeatedly by swinging its body over his own head, beating the poor plant creature like a metronome's ticking pendulum.
The back and forth motion of his swings causes the vine connected to the creature to tangle up into various knots around themselves and Roland's arm, constricting its length up to the point where with one final motion, the vine is then completely uprooted from where it was buried in, excavating a bulbous root akin to a giant potato or a beet with the constitution similar to that of a water balloon.
"So this is what's powering it?" Corrin remarked before she then took out magnetized nail. "Not anymore you're not."
The pointed end then drives itself into the root with ease, causing a breach in the root sac to begin deflating itself as an ichor of translucent green liquid spewed out like a geyser, spraying its contents all over those who stood before it.
Vanica then licked her lips to get a taste of said liquid before gagging. "... Ugh, tastes like one of those cough medicines."
"But it seems to be working. Look," Zenon then pointed towards the now-withering [Barometz].
The dying creature then futilely reached out towards the deflating sac as its bodily composition shriveled and died, its horns containing Patry's grimoire now crumbling, releasing it from its grasp before the creature then let out a final moan and finally dying.
"... Well," Zenon blinked before sighing. "... Good work."
Roland actively held himself back from smacking the twerp for giving him lip. Take the compliment. Don't say anything.
"And now that just leaves the hanger-ons," Brigid then looked towards the dozen [Treants] left behind. "Ogmios, wrap it up."
"Yes ma'am," he replied before sending his [Ionróir] through all of them, connecting his wire across all of them before the pendulum returned to his other hand.
"And just for insurance," Rinaldo remarked as he transformed his [Froberge] into a giant metallic anaconda serpent, "[Mercury Binding Magic: Anaconda Bind]!"
The giant mercurial serpent then bounds the tree creatures into a neat bundle.
"Thank you," nodded Brigid as she then prepared her [Anima Magic] through her Relic, [Anbhair]. "Let's see... [Fire] for base, [Water] for catalyst, and [Wind] as structure..."
The three elements then coalesced into a singular orb.
"Cover your eyes, everyone," the spirit remarked as a wicked bolts of lightning then struck the bound creatures in one spot. "[Anima Magic: Dysphoric Voltage]."
The flashes of thunder and lightning cede as soon as the smell of soot and charcoal tickle everyone's noses. Ogmios then disconnects his Relic from the now-dead [Treants] while Rinaldo sheathed his now-bladeless sword.
"... And that takes care of the rest of them," sighed Brigid before she looked back at everyone. "Everyone okay?"
"Uh, someone's near death," Vanica pointed out. "Someone should heal him, because I sure as hell won't."
"Let me," sighed Roland as he knelt before the downed elf before planting his [Durandal] before him. "Give him a few minutes. The holy aura from my Relic keep him safe from any outside interferences while he heals."
"... So rather than drive its users insane, it instead has healing properties while not compromising its killing potential," observed Zenon. "... That's kind of simple, but practical."
"Don't butter me up," growled Roland. "Especially when its coming from you."
"There there," Aengus then glomped the two from behind. "Don't let mister meanie hurt your feelings!"
"Arugh, I forgot you're still here!" shuddered Vanica as soon as she felt her neck being coiled around by her tender embrace. "... I think I'm breaking out in hives!"
"Keep doing that!" Rinaldo remarked before he walked towards Corrin. "So uh... thanks. You really pulled your weight back there."
"Whatever," she then plopped down onto the ground. "... I'm already sick of this place."
"It's not like there's a way out of here yet," Ogmios replied. "So suck it up, I suppose."
The three then look at the deflated sac and see Moccus sniffing around it.
"Hey," Ogmios called out. "Find anything?"
The talking pig then sniffs onto it more before sticking its nose into the breach. "... I SMELL SOMEONE IN HERE!"
"WHAT?!" Corrin then immediately ran towards it and began digging her fingers into the skin to rip it open.
Upon fully peeling it open, a rotting smell akin to acid then fills the air, causing everyone to gag.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT RANK-ASS SMELL?!" Vanica recoiled at the noxious fumes. "IT SMELLS LIKE ONE OF DANTE'S AFTERPARTIES!"
"Don't remind me of those corpse-collecting parties that he organized," winched Zenon as he (and everyone else) tried not to vomit. "... Believe me, I went in there knowing that I saw you of all people come walking out of the door in disgust. That was one of the biggest mistakes I've made in my entire life..."
As soon as everyone looks back at where the smell was coming from, they find a partially-digested skeleton of a person wearing a Golden Dawn's robe around his half-melted corpse. Its jaw was completely unhinged, as the tube wide as a person's leg that which led into the skeleton's mouth until it had reached all the way into the body's stomach.
"... Oh fuck me," Ogmios remarked as Corrin shrieked back from the gruesome sight of a man's demise.
"That's not a good way to go..." sighed Brigid as she then saw the completely corroded grimoire.
"Anyone gonna eat that?" asked Moccus, to which none replied. "... Me neither. There's barely anything remotely edible left on that guy's bones. I think I just lost my appetite."
"... Wait," the rattled [Magnet Magic] user remarked as she then peeked at the skeleton. "... I know that jawline from somewhere."
Patry then wakes up upon his physical faculties and bodily state returning to normal, and the first thing he'd saw was a Golden Dawn draped around a skeleton with a skull bearing a square jawline.
"NO!" he then sprinted towards the corpse before tumbling. "S-SHIREN!"
Corrin gasped before realizing who the dead body was. "... Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." she shuddered and chittered in a hyperventilating manner before finding a half-eroded grimoire with a cut-off clover sigil on its center, "... HOW?! WHY HIM OF ALL PEOPLE?!"
"Is that guy strong?" asked Vanica, to which she then received a glove slap across her head. "OW!"
"Not now," Rinaldo hissed as he slipped his glove back on before shaking his head. "Still though, I guess this confirms one thing."
Zenon contemplates for a moment before figuring it out. "... There might be other who were abducted while the rest of us are just... thrown out," he remarked. "... I don't know what the criteria of ending up like this is, but whatever may be the case, he wasn't taken solely by chance."
"... I just hope Moccus's ma wasn't one of those who were taken," Aengus remarked as she stood up.
"In any event, we better be scarce of this place before we get jumped on, again," Brigid remarked as she looked towards Patry, who was on his hands and knees before his fallen comrade in arms. "... You coming?"
The elven boy wipes his eyes off his tears before getting up. "... Yeah," he nodded. "... Sorry for the wait."
"The dead have no use to us," Ogmios pointed out. "We must go before we are to join them."
"Come on, Captain Licht!" Corrin called out from ahead of the pack.
"Coming-" Patry then suddenly freezes up upon hearing the name "Licht" rather than his own.
"... Oi, what's wrong?" Ogmios remarked. "Got a root up your arse?"
"Easy on him, Ogmios," Brigid chided. "Licht just lost one of his own."
"... Sorry for the holdup," Patry/"Captain Licht" spoke apologetically. "Be right there!"
As soon as he joined the group's traversal through the forest, a million questions per second began flooding his headspace.
... Okay, calm down, and think, he thought to himself. First, William's soul is missing from his own body, then I find one of his subordinate Magic Knights kidnapped and used up like a battery until his death, and now, the others are calling me "Captain Licht," even though everyone in the group should know my real name is Patry!
His eyes glanced towards his left and right before realigning back to the rest of the group. Gathering his bearings, he then asked the following question: "... So," he asked Corrin in a way that wouldn't give his suspicions away while making it sound natural as possible, "when was the last time when we got to fight alongside together, Miss Index?"
"... Sorry for leaving the squad with a pedigree like yours, Captain Licht," she replied. "A squad founded by an elf and broke through all of the glass ceilings and became Clover Kingdom's most prolific and prestigious Magic Knight Squad? Some people called you guys the next coming of the White Serpents and the Grey Deers! And look at me, I bailed because I couldn't handle the violence, yet here I am, doing that," she then chuckled nervously before letting out a seething sigh directed to whomever. "... Ain't that a bitch?"
Patry/"Captain Licht" nervously laughed at her remark. "... Please," he winced nervously, "you exaggerate."
Beneath the facade he'd put up however, the elf was screaming like a triggered maniac on the inside.
... Okay, it's not just William that's gone, but also his entire history, he thought to himself while he tried not to let his heart explode from the pressure of the revelation that struck him like a meteorite that fell onto his head from the skies above. And I'm the one taking his place according to their memories.
Party/"Captain Licht" then looked towards the surrounding forest and saw that the darkness afar and through the trees before breaking his line of sight lest his soul got sucked into it and joined those who might be trapped within.
This whole forest is literally trying to wipe William Vangeance off of the collective conciseness, he realized as he kept his facade lest he came off as a weirdo, ... and I'm the only one that remembers him ever existing.
At Another Clearing...
A throbbing sensation roused the Vice-Inquisitor from his slumber. His eyelids were heavy as leaden bedsheets, struggling to open them as if he's been asleep for ages.
Upon fully waking up, he looks around and finds himself completely alone in the thick woods. "... Yebat," he cursed as he quickly got up, shaking off his weariness. "... Okay, not the first woods you've been lost in," he spoke to himself. But just as he reached around his back waist, he felt naught the touch of tampered steel. "... Gavno."
His personal Relic, [Chernobog], was missing from its sheath.
"... This day is already off to a great start," he sarcastically remarked as he began traversing his surroundings. "... Alright, let's recall what'd happened prior: I was marching back to Avalon on foot after the prototype [Camelot Mk.I] was totaled during our battle with the very last Earth Temple Acolyte who sold his soul to a Devil for a chance to seek revenge against his killers, during the aftermath at the D&HSD, me and the other licensed Demonologists discussed how a Stigmata slipped through Libratium's customs towards Patrem Inquisitor Tokarev, and after preparations, he and his detachment of Thaumaturges began their march back to Avalon in tandem with the Twrch Trwyth Tavern and an automated convoy carrier with a FAMAS. I was supposed to separate upon reaching Geatland Hills..."
He looked around his surroundings and realizes that he's way off-course from his initial march path.
"... Actually, where the yebat am I?" he remarked. "I don't recall Ulster having trees the size of towers! Or the fact that Ulster even had trees that their tribesmen didn't cut down with impunity or for sport! There's literally no continuity between what happened prior and what's happening now! It's like I've been transported into another world entirely!"
From a distance, Makarov's ears then pick up a faint sound of things breaking and a roar akin to a deep bass coming through the tree lines.
"... Sounds familiar," he shrugged before taking off into a sprint towards where the sounds were coming from.
As he briskly ran through the woods, the sounds of wood snapping and a person's wrathful roaring became more pronounced as Makarov continually closed the gap. On his way, he spots a tree being felled towards his direction.
Just before the tower-sized tree could crush him into a bloody paste, the Vice-Inquisitor leapt out of the timber's way, rolling across the ground as the giant tree landed onto the earth with a resounding thud. Planted on the width of the trunk was his pitch-black scythe Relic [Chernobog], causing Makarov to get perplexed even further of how it ended up there in the first place.
"And if I find myself and others being shat out of a forgotten god's asshole, then I am the Tsardom of Chernobyl's Tsar himself," he grumbled as he retrieved his scythe from the felled tree before finding himself being surrounded by gigantic tree-men the size of small houses emerging from the ground. "And the day keeps on getting better."
Without warning, the Vice-Inquisitor weaved his way through the shambling horde as he resumed his sprint towards the direction where the sounds of the continual roars and breaking were coming from. As the [Treants] literally marched over each other to give chase, Makarov didn't look back as he was being pursued, only stopping briefly when ducking under a flying [Treant] that came from the direction that he was running towards.
"Evidently, he needs another talking-to," he grimace-smiled as he then broke through the vegetation to find himself within another clearing, now occupied by a certain hot-blooded greenhorn Inquisitor being assailed by all sides by the endless horde of [Treants]. "BIZON!"
The musclebound zealot stops for a moment before parrying another blow from a [Treant] with the width of his [Labrys] axe blade before socking it across its face and sending it flying through the air before crash-landing atop of its recently-sprouting brethren. "Oh, Vice-Inquisitor," he replied cooly before splitting a [Treant] in half with his Relic as he let out a bellowing yell with the delivered blow. "Never thought I'd run into now of all times."
Makarov's eyebrow twitched. "Your wish almost came true," he deadpanned before staking one of the [Treants] near Bizon and giving it a good kick into its back to have it break into numerous pieces. "That said, have you seen the others?"
"Nyet! I was alone this whole time!" Bizon pointed out as he then unleashed a surge of [Gravity Magic] to gain some more footing before wildling swinging around his axe to chop up the [Treants] caught in the way of his slashes. "... The enemies refuse to cease their advance. We should kill them all now."
"Agreed," both Makarov and Bizon then charged towards the scattered [Treants] with their arms in hand.
The shambling horde of tree-men broke upon the two Inquisitors of the Order of the Spade Cross went on their own rampages with their weapons. Makarov's non-magical [Chernobog] scythe tore through their wooden carapaces and innards like a hot knife through butter, their inner rings cleanly cut open and exposed with each slash made. Bizon simply brute-forced his way through the wood-men with his [Labrys] enhanced by his own [Gravity Magic], with each blow having the force of a thousand men behind it, chopping through several at once with each interval.
Eventually, the [Treants] stopped sprouting from the ground, with the remainder being left to fend for themselves as they were all eventually cut down where they stood.
"... Think that's the last of them," Bizon heaved as he slouched down onto his knees.
"Doubtful," Makarov remarked as he wiped the sweat off of his brows. "I get the feeling we're going to run into them way more than we have to."
The two men then take a breather as they sat down from across each other.
"... So," Makarov began speaking, "were you the one that felled those trees on my way here?"
"Yeah, sorry about that," the Inquisitor sheepishly apologized. "Like I stated prior, I thought I was all by lonesome when I first woke up here."
"Not the weirdest thing I've heard and seen," the Vice-Inquisitor remarked with a slight frown. "... Seriously though, it's just been you this whole time?"
Bizon nodded. "And first thing when I woke up, I was being carried away by those [Treant] blyats before I fought back until you showed up."
Makarov lets out a seething sigh of annoyance as he was forced to comprehend the madness of the place they now found themselves in. "... So no sign of our Thaumaturges?"
"Nor any other soul," grimaced Bizon before he began looking around his surroundings, trying not to stare lest he felt like if his soul was about to be sucked into the darkness ahead. "... Seriously, how big is this place?!"
Makarov did the same and almost felt as if the forest itself was trying to steal his very own soul when looking into the darkness as well. "... Merlin did share to me one time that there was a species of equine endemic to the Southern Continent that had the ability to blur themselves together when coalescing into a herd, confusing the predator's superior senses on who is who among the group," he spoke. "I think the animal was called a 'zebra,' but like the rest of all life in the majority of the Southern Continent, they all went extinct and now only exist in memory. In any event, don't stare into the forest for too long or else your soul is going to be sucked out."
"... About the Southern Continent, how did all life down there go extinct?" asked Bizon.
"Even Merlin and his infinite wisdom doesn't know what had transpired to turn that whole place into a lifeless wasteland," Makarov pointed out. "But if Zastava's testimony of the destruction of Dama and its people's displacement are of an indicator, then the forces of Hell are partially to blame for this. Life existed there once before, Bizon. It's Chernobyl all over again."
Bizon raised an eyebrow at Makarov's connection. "... Then who was the Rasputin of the Southern Continent?"
Makarov shook his head. "I do not know," the Vice-Inquisitor then gets up from the ground before turning towards into a stride. "Come. We have ground to cover and people to find."
The two men then continue to make tracks through whatever little footing that the forest provided. The cluster of tower-sized trees made only footways the size of common alleyways found in cities like Libratium's back alleys or Avalon's winding pathways look and feel spacious in comparison. Not helped by Bizon's muscular and wide build, causing his shoulders to brush against the bark and branches.
"... Now I understand why you've cut down those trees in the first place," deadpanned Makarov.
"I was never enthused about staying in Avalon for the rest of my life, Vice-Inquisitor," Bizon pointed out. "... That said, how did you cope with such cramped conditions?"
"The tricks is to crab-walk," explained the Vice-Inquisitor as he shifted his orientation to his side and slipped through the narrowly-fit gap between two trees. "If your body's still too thick, suck in your gut just right for your stomach and chest to be even."
Bizon did as he was instructed, allowing him to slip through unimpeded. "... I did it!" he remarked. "I slipped through-!"
A ripping sound was heard coming from behind himself. Makarov looks around to see that the back of his shirt was torn open.
"... Be glad that it wasn't your pants that ripped a new one, Inquisitor," he grimaced before taking off his mantle bearing the Order of the Spade Cross's iconography. "... Take your shirt off. It's no use here."
The subordinate Inquisitor then rips off what was left of his top, proceeding to go through the rest of this journey bare-chested, leaving behind his torn dress shirt and only Makarov's mantle cape covering his skin.
"... Say, how did you cut down those trees?" asked Makarov.
"I just did," he replied. "It felt cramped so I just made room."
"Remind me to not to invite you to refurbish my room," the Vice-Inquisitor snarked.
"All your room consists of is a desk and a bed!" the subordinate Inquisitor pointed out. "Like the rest of ours back at Avalon!"
"I prefer it that way," Makarov rolled his eyes before immediately drawing his scythe from his sheath. "I sense movement."
The two of them immediately got into their battle positions back-to-back as the sounds of slithering drew closer towards where they stood as it revolved around them like a phantom satellite.
"... Of course a [Lindwyrm] had to slip into this forest," grimaced Bizon. "Want me to cut him down now?"
"I order you to do so now," Makarov replied before he hit the deck. "DON'T HOLD BACK!"
The brawny Inquisitor then wound back his [Labrys] before unleashing a massive circular swing that sent several trees the size of towers flying into the sky. "COME OUT OF HIDING! [GRAVITY MAGIC: ORBITAL SPINCYCLE]!"
The spinning arc of his axe's swing comes to a dead stop upon hitting something that he and his Relic couldn't cut through. It then revealed itself to be a wooden serpentine-like creature no larger than an average [Lindwyrm], but the fact that there wasn't nary a scratch on its wooden hide indicated that this thing's defenses were second to none.
"Finally, you've shown yourself!" Bizon then leapt towards the creature. "NOW DIE! [GRAVITY MAGIC: METEOR GUILLOTINE]!"
With the sudden downshift from his [Gravity Magic], Bizon's [Labrys] then propelled downwards towards the beast's head, only for when it hit, it instead bounced off of the beast's head, surprising both Bizon and Makarov.
"WHAT?!" he exclaimed. "IMPOSSIBLE! NO WOOD CAN'T BE CHOPPED BY MY AXE!"
"Just what is even that thing?!" Makarov remarked as he tried to identify that creature before it began giving them chase. "FORGET THAT! RUN!"
The two then are pursued by this serpent of the woods, easily snaking through the winding tangled groves with ease, climbing up and down from trunk to trunk while the two zealots of the Order of the Spade Cross haplessly maneuvered their way though the woods as the beast continuously chased after them.
"IS THAT A NEW SUBSPECIES OF [LINDWYRM] THAT WE HAVEN'T HEARD ABOUT?!" Bizon pointed out as he and his superior ran for their lives. "OR IS THAT THE RUMORED ELDERBEAST EVOLUTION OF SAID WILDERBEASTS, WITH REPORTS OF IT BEING TOO FAR AND FEW BETWEEN BECAUSE THERE IS NO ONE ALIVE TO REPORT ABOUT IT?!"
"SHUT UP AND KEEP RUNNING!" Makarov roared back as he and his subordinate kept running from the creature. "WE HAVE NO CLEAR MEANS TO FEND IT OFF!"
But just as they ran, another wooden serpent of similar ilk emerged from their side.
"ANOTHER ONE?!" Bizon remarked. "WHERE THE FUCK DID IT COME FROM?!"
Just before a retort could be uttered, another falls from above, leaving the two of them now surrounded by the three wooden serpents.
"... You've just had to say it, did you?" sighed Makarov as the three hissed at the two of them while drawing his [Chernobog]. "If this is where we are supposed to die, then I suppose there are worse outcomes."
"It matters not," growled Bizon, both penitent and enraged at both their situation and himself. "If I am to die... THEN I'M TAKING THEM WITH ME!"
One of the serpents then lash out first, maw open and ready to swallow the two whole. But just before it could close in its maw onto them, a crimson streak rockets past the two of them before entering into the serpent's mouth, causing it to then choke.
"... Release," a deep and rolling voice ordered coolly, causing the wooden serpent to suddenly erupt out numerous crimson spikes from within, breaching through its invincible armor from the inside.
From the dark of the woods emerged none other than Ulster's representative champion for the Anti-Demon Alliance, Cu Chulainn, the chains wrapped around his pant legs jingling with each step he took forth.
"Heyo boyos," the wild-haired man greeted. "Found yerselves sum playmates, did ye?"
The impaled wooden serpent then jerks back forth before the crimson streak exited the beast's mouth while dragging its spikes through the beast's body and out of its head before returning to Cu's hand, revealing itself to be a writhing and jittering shaft covered with bloody-red thorns and spikes, with the sharper and more pronounced spearheads twitching and clicking like that of an insect's legs.
"Mind if I play with?" he evilly grinned as he licked his lips upon sighting the wooden serpents. "... Me [Gae Bolg]'s hungry for sum blood."
"Be my guest," Makarov remarked, which Bizon agreed to let the Ulsterian have a shot.
Cu Chulainn belts out a shrill roar before jumping into the reach of the two serpents. One serpent snapped its mouth towards him, only for him to wedge himself between its maw with his raw strength holding apart the two ends from closing back shut, as another then took a bite towards its back, only for Cu to kick his [Gae Bolg] with his toes, causing it to enter into the beast's mouth and causes it to choke.
"I get it now," Bizon remarked. "Its insides aren't as durable as its skin."
"Release!" Cu ordered, causing [Gae Bolg]'s spines and thorns to erupt out of the wooden serpent's skin from within, goring it all over and killing it instantaneously. "Aight! Dat's de way!"
"CU CHULAINN!" Makarov cried out as he noticed that the beast's insides were softer than its outer layer. "WANT US TO FIT ORUSELVES INSIDE LIKE YOUR SPEAR?!"
"FAT CHANCE! I WOULD'VE DUN SO MESELF IF IT WERE DE CASE!" Cu replied as he held onto the serpent's fangs as the creature began thrashing about to get the man to let go of its mouth. "ONLY A WEE CHILD WOULD FIT INNIT!"
"THEN WHAT'S THE PLAN?!" Bizon asked.
"Come on, please work please work please work..." a semi-tomboyish voice jittered as a malignant aura was emitted from behind the two of them, revealing the FAMAS pilot/mechanic, Mudo, her hands brandished out with an occult and wisp-like violet flames surrounding her.
"The pilot?!" Bizon remarked. "What can she do-?!"
"GET BACK! NOW!" Makarov then tackled Bizon out of the way.
"PLEASE WORK!" begged Mudo as she then unleashed her terrible might upon the last wooden serpent. "[DARK CURSE MAGIC: OBSOLESCENCE]!"
A massive hex rune appeared above the serpent's head as Cu then swiftly kicks the serpent in its inner throat before aborting. The summoned glyph then shoots a bolt of black lightning struck the beast from above, shocking it in its entirety before it falls dead before them.
"... It worked!" exclaimed Mudo. "... It actually worked! Like after three failures!"
Cu then looks back at the Inquisitors. "... Eh, all of de lass's spells are de ones dat can kill anythin' in an instant, but they're kinda shoddy."
"Specifically a 40% success rate, 60% if said target is inherently vulnerable to [Dark Magic]," Mudo sheepishly pointed out. "... I couldn't do shit during the Purge of the Zogratis Clan and could only provide logistical support while everyone else dragged those fuckers out into the streets and iced em. Even now, I'm only confident fighting inside my FAMAS... for which I do not have on me."
"You did your part regardless, so no need to feel ashamed," reassured the Vice-Inquisitor before looking back at the dead serpents. "... So, you know what they are?"
"Yep. [Jabberwocky]. 'Nd three of em te boot," Cu remarked. "... Fae race loved em as der bodyguards patrolling along with their [Spriggans] around de outer lands near der rings. Think both of them as [Treants], but bigga, nastea, and smarta."
"This was my first time seeing them in person!" Mudo pointed out. "I've only read passing mentions of those creatures in old books while I was raised in the sewers, so guess my surprise when I saw how their legends were mostly true. Specifically their whole 'can only be felled by the sharpest of blades'-part."
"Dey didn't say anythin' about attacking from de inside," Cu pointed out. "Besides, me [Gae Bolg] is de sharpest spear in all of Ulster."
"So sharp that literally no one can wield it without having their hands mutilated just by holding it..." Bizon grimaced as he started at the writing spines dotted around the Relic's shaft. "... Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's literally a demonic parasite that you're wielding as a weapon, right?"
"Lady Scathach tamed it after it went on a rampage dat killed thousands by itself," the Ulsterian champion explained. "... For real, I'm de only on dat can use it and not get murdered in me sleep by it."
"Question is, whom did it belong to prior?" asked Makarov. "And what Sin does it bear?"
"Dunno," he replied. "Accordin' to Lady Scathach, dis thin's semi-autonomous lifeform. Think like bacteria or a bottom-feeder dat de Libratians talk about when dey look into de primordial soup dat lies beyond de horizon. Mindless, but self-sufficient."
"The fact that you can tame a mindless Demon-adjacent creature and classify it as a GR-ranked Relic only through sheer force of will and might is nothing short of impressive!" Mudo complimented. "Ulster's truly a land where literally anything could happen thanks to magic!"
Bizon sighs in frustration. "Enough lollygagging, we've got ground to cover," he pointed out. "And next time, if we run into another one of those [Jabberwocky] things, we run. Sounds reasonable?"
Cu then looked at Bizon's [Labrys]'s dulled edge, caused by the failed killing blow that he'd tried to deliver towards the wooden serpent prior. "... Ye, sounds reasonable," he nodded while Mudo tried to pull out a fang from the creature's corpse. "... 'Nd wat are ye doin', lassie?"
"Collecting... sample!" she struggled as Mudo tugged onto the beast's fang. "... Once in a lifetime... gotta bring back proof!"
Cu Chulainn shrugs before snapping off one of the larger blades growing from the shaft of his [Gae Bolg], finding a small handle of wood and ripping off a strip of cloth from the hem of his pants to fashion a red-bladed knife out of the three materials. He then comes over towards Mudo's direction, jams the knife into the beast's fruit-like gums, and dislodges the tooth with one jerk before handing it to the girl.
"... Thanks," she spoke before the crafted knife was then handed to her.
"Keep it close to ye," Cu replied. "Gotta be able to make sure dat ye can fend for yerself if thins' git real bad."
The four then make their way further into the woods. Along the way, the scenery did not change. At first, the monotonous stagnation was droll.
Eventually, the repetition became disorienting. Almost as if they were trapped in an abstract painting of a natural landscape that is less of a natural sprawl and more of a continuous patter that one would find upon a sheet of fabric that would end up as a common novelty shirt or dress. The different/geographically displaced flora didn't do anything to break the monotony, but rather, they instead contributed to the madness that was their current environment.
"... Have to ask," asked Makarov, "but where did those [Jabberwocky] came from?"
"Can't say," Cu replied. "But methinks dat de [Jabberwocky] came out of de chopped tree stumps. De trees all 'round 'ere might be nursin' grounds for those fekers."
"We did find a hollow stump that felt surprisingly damp when we woke up together in the same spot," Mudo explained. "The breach looked as if something came out through those tree lines like a burst callus."
Makarov then stares at his subordinate incredulously. "... Bizon, do not chop down those trees ever again, crampness be damned."
"Yes sir," he lowered his head.
The four continued walking silently through the woods, the monotonous nature of this place continuing to gnaw at their minds undetected towards all of them. None dared talked about it without running into the risk of going completely insane (with Cu being an exception, only complying out of courtesy).
So instead, Makarov chose to talk about something else instead. "... So, how long you guys have been awake?"
"A gud while," Cu answered. "Me 'ead was hurtin' wen I woke up in here next to de lassie."
"... Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna rape me in my sleep," Mudo remarked.
"Were you going to?" asked Bizon.
"Even I know dat now's not de time to get me willy wet," the Ulsterian champion remarked defensively. "... Although, I'm not against it after we git de fek out of 'ere."
Mudo chuckled nervously, wonder if her body would remain intact after an intercourse with one of Ulster's strongest people. Some of her older colleges and superiors (sans Roland, due to his subsequent ban and erectile dysfunction) made bed with their folk (when they're not drunk or murderous; both aren't mutually exclusive) and opinions ranged from "sex god; would do it again" to "have had to replace my entire skeleton after my [Mana Skin] broke after the first round."
... Legit, she definitely wanted to know how the latter felt. For context, Libratium's academia had weirder people with even-weirder fetishes.
"... Anyway," Mudo spoke as she then took control of the conversation before it got even more awkward, "anyone else's heads feel like as if they've been used as a pugilist's sandbag for a whole week?"
"If you're talking about the disconnect between what had happened before to where we are now, then yes," answered Makarov. "Picture if the phrase 'cause and effect' were missing an 'and' when correlating our current situation."
"... Yah," nodded Cu. "I can recall dat before we ended up 'ere, I was running alongside 'er tin box before me noggin went pitch-black. No signs of trees before den, nuthin'."
Mudo looked further head before looking away just as quickly. "... We better move before we're forgotten to the rest of the world," she pointed out. "I don't have a single MASS pack on me, so if we fuck up here, then we're a long way from getting fixed back up."
The four nod before moving on through the woods. They continue to tread through the foliage until coming across another clearing. This time, there was a person laid smack dab on the middle.
"Pink witch's hat, robe with a peafowl-like iconography..." Mudo listed down as she and the others approached the unconscious witch, "... no doubt about it. She's a Clover Kingdom Magic Knight!"
"How'd ye know?" asked Cu.
"For one, I actually memorized who came with us during our convoy, excluding the Inquisitors, no offense to present company," spoke Mudo.
"None taken," replied Bizon.
"And two," continued Mudo, "Libratium uses flowers as our iconography to denote our Chevaliers to Clover Kingdom's animal motifs. Going by the color and gender... I'm assuming she's Captain Dorothy Unsworth of the Coral Peacocks."
"Regardless, then she's an ally," Bizon then walked ahead of Mudo to retrieve her from the clearing. "I'll go see if I can wake her up-"
All of the sudden, Makarov then tackles both Mudo and Bizon out of the way as a giant humanoid figure dropped onto where the two were at prior. As the dust settled, it then revealed itself to be none other Mudo's custom FAMAS, the Shadow Gear, now its chassis and internals completely choked to the brim with plant life and its limbs and functions puppeteered by the verdant tendrils akin to the world's biggest and ugliest parasite known to man (if Cu's [Gae Bolg] counted, then it would be a contender).
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Mudo cried out as she then saw her mech then scooped up Dorothy off the ground before throwing her into the plant-infested cockpit and closing it shut. "THAT'S WHERE MY BABY ENDED UP?!"
Inside the cockpit, just as Dorothy was stirred from her slumber, a thin tendril then snakes into her ear before worming its way into her brain, now rendering her comatose from the physical strain as the tip then latched onto her hippocampus, fully assuming control over her along with the FAMAS.
"... Mortals," Dorothy's and someone else's voice spoke within the assimilated Shadow Gear, "... submit. There is no alternative."
"WELL WHO DE FEK ARE YE?!" Cu barked out as he then threw his [Gae Bolg] at the compound creature, only for it to dodge the thrown spear and its return trajectory with ease.
"... It is as I feared," spoke Dorothy's voice. "... You've all forgotten the proper decorum of when in the presence of a God."
"Just who died and made you God?" muttered Bizon as he and Mudo were let go from Makarov's arms.
"And more importantly, who are you?" asked Mudo. "If you claim to be a God, then are you the one responsible for putting us and possibly everyone else into this mess?"
Within the cockpit, Dorothy chuckled. "... Truthfully, I wish it were the case," the voice spoke through the witch. "But as a God without worshippers, I'm resorting to these... humbling measures to regain the proof of my existence... But I do applaud your self-acknowledgement, so I shall humor you, creator of this infernal contraption of arrogance."
"... Did that mofo just diss my baby?" Mudo asked Makarov, to which he promptly ignored her.
Then the self-proclaimed God then erects a lounging throne of root and briar from the ground before laying itself upon it. "... The Druids worshipped me as 'The Forester.' The nonbelievers feared me as the 'Call of the Wild.' And nature itself was my bride and the weald as my children..."
The FAMAS then raises its hand, calling forth a shambling horde of corpses with flowers and vines growing from their bodies from the earth around the clear, emerging into the clearing from all sides, all of them wearing the armor of the Thaumaturges.
"... And as a childless parent, what act isn't more just than to punish those who've murdered them without a second thought?"
"... Impossible!" Bizon remarked before he dodged a clumsy sword swing from a possessed Thaumaturge. "Our men! They're taken over!"
"... No, it's worse," Makarov remarked as he used his [Aura Magic] to detect any life coming from them, only to see all of them sans theirs and Dorothy's own. "... They're dead. All that's left of them are but cold flesh and bone."
"My [Sylvan Slaves] shall repent for their sins, as I, [Leshy], shall forgive their actions should their labor succeed," spoke the God through Dorothy's voice. "Our dreams shall finally become reality... as we will it so!"
It then groggily raises its hand towards the sky before emitting a pulsating sensation that rippled throughout the whole area.
"[Dream Magic: Ambient Haunt]," spoke the forgotten God. "... Protect me and kill the nonbelievers."
The ground below and the tangle above began writhing like a pile of snakes as the [Sylvan Slaves] all charged towards them from all directions.
"Shit shit shit shit shit!" Mudo cursed as she dodged a sword swing before shoving off a grope. "What do we do?!"
"They're too far gone," Makarov gritted his teeth before slicing through the mob with his drawn [Chernobog]. "Only death shall free them."
"SOUND GUD TE ME!" Cu then belted out a feral yell as he then threw his [Gae Bolg] through several of the verdant cadavers before picking up one of their swords and halberds and began dual-wielding them to break through their ranks as his personal Relic tore through the other undead on its own.
Mudo then drew her knife and stabbed one of them in the neck before yanking the blade across its neck to decapitate it. Bizon used his [Gravity Magic] in accord with his [Labrys] to deal crushing blows unto them, crushing them all into fine powder within the craters left behind. Makarov, realizing that it was planning to do something with Dorothy's gifts, immediately guns after the slouching general, only for the swing of his scythe to be intercepted by a wall of [Sylvan Slaves] risen from the earth.
"Do not resist..." the [Leshy] spoke. "... You must die so my children may live."
"A forgotten God like you has no place in this world that Sephira had ushered," Makarov retorted as he cut through the new horde of his former men. "Return to your prior rest and never wake again!"
But just as Makarov can move, he finds his own ankles trapped by the tangle of roots coming from the God's lounge chair. He tries to cut himself free, only for his neck to be strung up by a noose resembling a tap root. It now began pulling him from two opposite directions and letting go of his Relic in a momentary triggering of his gag reflex. He tried to pull the tap root wrapped around his neck off with his hands, but as he continued to clawed onto the strand, he felt his strength ebb and flow like ceasing tides as less air came in through his esophagus and his blood flow gradually decreasing in output.
"... I tire of rest," spoke the [Leshy] as two pairs of hair-thin tendrils then forced open the Vice-Inquisitor's eyelids as he was continuously being tugged on from both ends. "Now behold... what your kind had wrought to ruin."
During the Chase of the [Fear Gorta]...
"HEY GET BACK HERE!" David cried out as he and the others pursed after the [Fear Gorta] claiming Jericho as its own. "I JUST WANT TO TALK TO YOU WITH MY DICE!"
The joyriding bush creature wildly driving on Jericho's [Highway Star] was followed by Cissonius with Salim perched onto his back, David following after the two, and Letolie just behind the aforementioned Golden Dawn.
"SON OF A BITCH IS FAST!" Salim remarked. "I DON'T THINK RUNNING WILL DO ANYTHING!"
Cissonius then flashes a smirk. "... Gud thinkin'," he then turns his head back towards the two Golden Dawn Magic Knights. "Oi Davy-boyo! Let me borrow yer die for a sec!"
"Uh, sure?" he replied quizzingly before said dice were stolen from afar thanks to Cissonius's [Snatch Magic] and stuffed into the penal Silver Eagle's pants pocket.
"'Nd ye... uh lassie, how do ye say yer name again?" asked the red-leathered cook.
"Letoile, and what is your request?" she replied with a sigh.
"Ye got any spells that bind people in der place?" he asked. "Sumthin' quick and big enough for one person."
Letoile's mind thought of a spell, [Another Atlas], which allowed her to control direction itself in a confined space. However, the trade-off is that it's slow to cast and requires a lot of mana to even get the thing up and running in the first place. So with that in mind, her thoughts then veered towards the idea of "downsizing" a powerful spell into something more manageable in the heat of the moment.
"... Yeah," she nodded as she began her preparations. "Whenever you're ready."
"Okay, that's cool and all, but how are we going to close the gap?!" asked Salim before he was then lifted up off Cissonius's back before being held up over the man's head like a ball that's about to be thrown.
"We aren't," he sneered. "Ye are."
With a singular swing of his arm, Cissonius then chucks Salim towards the fleeing [Fear Gorta]. As the hapless [Lightning Magic] user flew across the air, rocketing towards the lanky [Fear Gorta], the latter then looks back before seeing the screaming young man fly towards him.
But just before the bush creature could make any evasive maneuvers, the dice inside of Salim's pocket shone before exploding into a glaring flare of blinding light, engulfing both him and the [Fear Gorta] into a white ball.
Disoriented, the bush creature riding atop of [Highway Star] crashes its ride onto a sudden incline before being sent flinging off of the ride, while Salim faceplanted onto the flying bush creature, causing both to land onto the ground into an undignified heap.
"YE READY?!" Cissonius cried out.
Letoile nods as a small compass circle appeared over her hand. "As I'll ever be," she then throws the circular rune towards the pile before it then suspended itself over their heads and its needle now spinning wildly.
"Whoa, is that [Another Atlas]?" David asked.
"No, just a compact version I dub, [Compass Binding Magic: Ferrostatic Lost]," answered the bespectacled mage. "Rather than controlling direction at my own discretion, I simply let said 'direction' run rampant on its own, creating a centrifugal equilibrium to keep them bound within one place."
Cissonius ponders for a few moments before decoding what Letoile had just described. "Yer making yer needle move so fast dat nuthin' can get in or out. Not bad!" he praised as he tugged onto his gloves. "Now let's wrap this up. [Snatch Magic: Steal]!"
He then snatches both Jericho and Salim out of the [Ferrostatic Lost]'s oppressive veil. With the [Fear Gorta] now deprived of its sole source of nutrition, it then tried to burrow itself into the ground to ingrain itself, only for the 360 degree barrier to reveal itself to be a sphere.
"A basic adjustment right after Cissonius's sleight of hand," declared Letolie as the [Fear Gorta] began banging its fists against the wall of oppositional movement in desperation as it began to wither away leaf by leaf from where it stood. "Everyone, please put that thing out of its misery. It's the only way to make sure that it stays dead."
"Hey Salim," David remarked, "time for a team up! Give me my dice some extra juice!"
"Very well," he dourly complied as he then instilled his own [Lightning Magic] into David's [Dice Magic], forming a dice made of pure electricity. "... Now, how are we to get it inside her [Ferrostatic Lost]?"
"Leave it to me," Cissonius then snatched the thunder dice from the air before Letoile instills her own [Compass Magic] inside said dice.
"Making sure that it lands on a six," she remarked.
Cissonius then smirks in approval before throwing the dice back into the [Fear Gorta]'s cage. His [Snatch Magic] bypasses the imposed physics of Letoile's spell as said dice of lightning warped into where the bush monster was trapped in.
The dice then bounces off of the monster's withering body before landing on the ground to land on a rigged six. In the next moment, what was left of the [Fear Gorta] was then promptly reduced to ashes in a bright flash of thunder.
"... There, it's dead," Salim remarked before being dumped by Cissonius. "... At least let me down gently!"
"Peh, woman," he smarmily remarked before setting Jericho down against the tree trunk. "That said, great work, I suppose."
"The monster is now nothing but ashes," confirmed Letoile as her tracker ceased working before disappearing. "... I think we can afford a short rest."
"Finally, some downtime," David then plopped himself against a tree next to where Jericho was kaid at. But just as he laid down, his stomach rumbled as did everyone else's. "... Dammit, I just noticed, but I'm starving."
Cissonius looked up. "Oi Davy-boyo," he spoke as he raised his foot above the [Dice Magic] user's head, "ye mind movin' yer 'ead?"
As David scrambled up from where he'd lay, Cissonius then kicks the tree trunk as hard as he could. Shortly after, a mango fruit the size of a common farm steer dropped onto where the Golden Dawn Magic Knight was at prior.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Salim cried out.
"Dinna," said the red-leathered cook. "Make sure ye eat de skin too. Dat's where de nutrients are."
"... You do realize that it's not sterile, right?" Letoile pointed out before she was handed a slice.
"Betta te die shattin' den starvin' to death," replied Cissonius. "So if ye wanna live long enough te take a bathe, den eat."
Reluctantly, she and everyone else then bites into the bright yellow flesh of the giant mango before their tongues were assaulted with a powerful pungent flavor of tart sweetness and mind-numbing sourness. This kind of overwhelming taste would normally turn them off, but after the first bite, they kept on eating without stopping.
As the others devoured easily the greatest fruit that they've ever eaten, Cissonius then takes a piece of the mango before opening Jericho's mouth and squeezing its juices into it. Once the droplets hit his tongue, his eyes gaped wide open before letting out a shrill gasp.
"WHERE AM I? WHERE'RE EVERYONE ELSE-Oh, it's you guys," Jericho sighed upon being in presence of familiar company.
"Welcome back, asshole," Salim grimaced.
"Yeah, fuck you too," he then looked towards the Golden Dawn members who were gorging on the yellow flesh that had a faint scent of sweet and sour that wafted in the air. "... Can I have one too?"
"Ye well enough to chew?" Cissonius asked, to which Jericho nodded. "... Gud. Dat saves me de trouble of having to do it meself."
The group then ate the mango up until all that was left of the giant fruit was its almond-shaped pit. As the group ate, they filled in on Jericho of what happened while he was asleep/possessed.
"... I see," he remarked remorsefully. "... Sorry for causing you all this much trouble."
"Eh, couldn't be 'elped," shrugged Cissonius. "... Really though, you weren't awake before?"
Jericho shook his head.
"Tch, ain't that just convenient," Salim snorted. "Of course he of all people had to wake up on top of a murder-bush."
"At least we don't have to worry about starving to death here..." David then looked out into the forest's dim depths before his head began throbbing in pain. "... Nope, it ain't gone."
"Then don't stare," snarked Letoile. "You know that's rude and all."
Jericho then lets out a deep sigh before getting up. "... Still though," he remarked as he looked at a palm tree and a pine tree growing out of the same patch of earth, "... this place is just weird. Murderous flora and possible fauna aside, I get the creeping feeling that this entire place is not only trying to kill us, but it's out to kill all of us, both in mind and body."
"I know, right?!" David agreed. "I mean, this place might as well be a Dungeon all but in name..." he then turned towards Cissonius, "... Ulster has Dungeons, right?"
"Yep," he nodded. "Dat's one of de many reasons why people come 'ere. 'Nd why said folks comin' are armed to de teeth. Dat said, the biggest Dungeon ever recorded is literally under Libratium, simply called de 'Catacombs'. Even den, sum experts say dat de whole place isn't even mapped out completely."
"Sweet Sephira, no wonder why you guys are a bunch of murder-happy cannibalistic psychopaths," Salim grimaced. "There's so many mind-breaking things that are out to murder anything with a pulse to the point that peace here is practically impossible!"
"If by 'peace' ye mean 'not fightin',' den ye," nodded the cook. "I mean, about 60% of de population are partially and chronically wasted on sum grog before dey smash someone else's skull with a rock. De rest are just killing to either gain the loser's mana by eatin' 'im or to settle a blood feud. Point being, de reason why you don't see it as much as ye did is that either de fightin' were already over and their bodies are taken... or that Ulster's unconquered Dungeons are turned into big fightin' pits. 'Ell, sum outsiders come to our Dungeons for said fightin' and not de lootin'."
"So how is this any different?" asked Letoile. "Aside from its size that is."
"Ye know betta den I do, dat de Dungeons are supposed to be buildings or underground," Cissonius pointed out. "Dis place? De forest goes on forever. Less of a Dungeon 'nd more like we're inside somethin's stomach, waiting to be shat out as corpses."
As the Golden Dawns and Cissonius continue debating, Salim then looks ahead of the forest before spotting movement. "Hey, uh everyone?!" he spoke out. "I-I think I see people up ahead!"
Everyone gets up to see what the Silver Eagle (penal) was seeing. Up ahead, there other humanoid silhouettes spotted through the darkness.
"... Think they're people we know?" asked David.
"That or some bandits that got swept into this place," Letoile pointed out.
"I say we approach them," said Jericho. "If they're hostile, then we're more than enough to take them down."
"I'd say fuck dat and bail," Cissonius proposed. "Dat smells like a trap. And given that we just ran into a [Fear Gorta], I can't 'elp but feel dat sonuvabitch baited us into an ambush."
"Eh, by ambush, you mean like now?" David spoke out as the group now found themselves surrounded by silhouettes all carrying weapons in their hands.
As they then revealed themselves, the four saw corpses of various men and other armed people shambling towards them. All of them were sprouting plants out of their orifices, with some more horrendously misshapen then the others.
"Some of them are the Inquisitors' men," Letoile remarked at the heavily-armored men dragging their maces and swords towards them, their exposed skins and pores sprouting moss and flower buds.
"Oi, dat bastard has an eight million yul-tab on me boss's place!" Cissonius pointed at one shirtless man with faded blue tattoos dual wielding an axe and a spear in both hands, his entire head now replaced with a giant red-petaled flower similar to that of Heart Kingdom's rafflesia corpse flower (and smelling like one too).
"And isn't that the guy that was chasing those kids with a scythe?" David pointed to the [Bugbear] fused with his own [Drake] mount, now with his Relic back in his hands, its blade chipped off, and at where both the torso and the mount met, a venus flytrap was splayed wide open like a morbid tunic, with its back now sprouting a pitcher plant like a sort of backpack.
The group now found themselves surrounded by an undead horde of plant-zombies from all walks of Spade Kingdom's life.
"Welp, guess me option of bailin' ain't gunna work," Cissonius remarked as he eyed towards the shambling horde's arms. "Everyone, dun't die or I'll have to kill ye. Again."
The botanical undead all yet out a belching howl as they stampeded towards the four.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes: Funny thing happened this weekend. My laptop broke down and I had to get it fixed. I finished this chapter on my desktop and honestly, I'm kinda attached.
So this chapter's shoddy structuring is for my reasons is that I kinda want to keep this arc around 10k words average per chapter, so forgive me for not adding more to round off the chapter. That said, the next chapter I'm planning to wrap up Plot A (Corrin's group) and Plot B (the [Leshy] encounter) before I introduce another group of survivors.
So far, here's the following:
- Group A: Corrin, Ogmios, Brigid, Roland, Rinaldo, Zenon, Vanica, Aengus, Moccus, and Patry/"Captain Licht".
- Group B: David, Letoile, Cissnonius, Salim, and Jericho.
- Group C: Makarov, Bizon, Cu Chulainn, Mudo, and Dorothy (taken over by [Leshy] as his new host and inside Mudo's FAMAS).
So Shien's dead. And like Zenon pointed out, he wasn't taken by chance. More on that will be elaborated in the later chapters when the characters finally get a break. Not only that, William's entire existence is seemingly retconned after his soul was extracted from his body, with Patry seemingly taking his place as "Captain Licht" and remembering the actual truth. And he can't tell the truth yet since they'll begin suspecting him, and since he was just cleared, combined with the fact that he's still got the mind of a pre-teen, then it's clear that he prioritizes keeping the group together rather than stir the pot more than he has to, and no, Ogmios's [Memory Magic] is also affected by this continuity shift, so he can't factcheck Patry/"Captain Licht's" memories. Overall, the mystery of this forest is to be tackled, and if Patry/"Captain Licht" wants the rightful owner of the body back, then he's going to have to bring on the A-game.
And yes, due to the presence of the [Sylvan Slaves], Groups B and C will merge as the forest is continuously explored further in-depth. And the existence of [Leshy] as a God will be elaborated on in the next chapter, but for now, here's the breakdown: a magical God's powers are proportional to the amount of worshippers they have, meaning that yes, Freki and Geri are still worshipped along with Tiger Lily/Forsetti by pockets of dwarves and Fae researchers (indirect for the latter case, but still, Chimeras aside, the fact that they're trying to bring them back as Siths count) in the Spade Kingdom, while [Leshy]'s worshippers, the Druids, are all dead, so it cannot manifest physically nor can he speak on his own (ergo, using Dorothy as his mouthpiece), so it's forced to resort to parasitic measures.
As you can tell, [Leshy] is not happy at the fact that he has no worshippers left. Nor the fact that he's being used/cooperating with someone else, but said resentment is overridden by his rage against those who destroyed the forest of Ulsters (read: anyone not on his side).
So overall, no one's out of the woods yet. And yes, there are more secrets that have yet to be revealed.
References:
- The "corpse-collecting parties" that Zenon mentions is a reference to Chapter 12/Episode 4 of Dorohedoro, where En and his cohorts (Shin, Noi, and Ebisu) attend a corpse-lovers party (organized by a Magic User who has the power to bring the dead back to life) to find a En his "ideal partner."
- The gimmick of Mudo's [Dark Magic] solely consisting of insta-kill curses and working only about 40% of the time is a reference to her namesake from the Shin Megami Tensei franchise, where said spells [Mudo] (and [Hama]) rarely work as insta-kill spells.
- The [Leshy] taking control of both Dorothy and Mudo's FAMAS is named after a Slavic forest guardian spirit/god of hunting and forests, made popular in recent mainstream media from Witcher 3's Leshen enemy (who also appeared in Monster Hunter World as a collaboration event quest). Design-wise, it's functionally based off The Dreaming General from Darkest Dungeon 2 while its [Sylvan Slaves] are based off the The Lost Legion endemic to the region of The Tangle.
And as usual, please leave a comment or a review, for I'd love to know what my readers think!