Wraithwood Botanist

B2 - Chapter 48 - Conspiracy

Kyro’s mind split into multiple fragments, leaving his thoughts looping and broken. In an upper domain, such a weak mental attack would bounce off him, but the largest problem with being cursed was that it suppressed neara in the body. Neara was what increased perception by slowing down a person’s world, shielded people from mental attacks, and boosted bodily function by improving the mind, nervous system, and healing processes. Once suppressed, people reverted closer and closer to base-level mortality.

For that reason, the attack actually shattered his mind, and he had to activate Mental Shielding thoughtfully to snap himself back together.

All of this happened in a split second.

By the time Kline’s claw strike and pounce could reach him, he had already moved away—

—but it was close. Far closer than ever should have been possible fighting against such young, undisciplined beings.

But it was over. In a real fight, they would be dead, and in a normal spar, he’d keep going. But he sure as hell wouldn’t commit himself to a chaste life to be a life-long bodyguard for Mira just because of a paper cut. With her and Kline’s talent, that could be millennia! Maybe more!

Kyro turned to Mira, and that’s when his mindset turned from a flippant aggravation wrapped in necessity and morphed into a grave response.

Where the fuck did she get that thing?

Mira had reached into her chest and was pulling a soul weapon from her chest. Soul weapons were exceedingly rare and always terrifying. The skills it had were unknown, and he doubted that Mira had any clue what she was holding—or what it signified.

Things were about to get nasty.

Playtime was over. Kyro blasted across the battlefield as fast as he could, turning and lifting his hands. Two sets of raw mana developed over Mira and Kline.

Kyro was a demigod with over a hundred thousand years of experience. If he couldn’t end two hatchlings in a split second, even with three curses and his hands tied behind his back, he would kill himself. It was for that reason that he was so confident in making an egregiously one-sided bet to grind Mira and Kline’s weakness into them—to force them to consider it. But the time for that was over.

Sorry kids.

Kline panicked and jumped for a portal, opening up one next to Mira to protect her. Mira had followed his movements the best she could, but she lost him halfway. Even at their fastest, there were slow—

—and he couldn’t even use an acceleration technique.

It was admirable—but it wasn’t enough.

He swung his hands down. A small force of mana crashed into Mira, knocking her out. A massive one hit Kline, strong enough to create a crater in the ground if there weren’t a barrier. Then, the world turned still.

He pulled out his flask—

—but he didn’t unscrew it.

He just fluttered in silence, studying Kline and Mira with a profound gaze.

No wonder everyone’s after them.

He didn’t understand why Brindle and Yakana would choose a pupil. Now that he witnessed their talent, he was convinced that it wasn’t a simple fluke or conspiracy theory. They earned it through and through and shocked him multiple times with their power. These two needed protected at all costs.

That said, it was extremely difficult to argue that they got where they were with a little aid and merit. There was something more serious going on, and Zyphrael... that prick... was the first to point it out.

"This’s a conspiracy."

Kyro turned to Nephralis to see her reaction and found a frown chopped on her face. The sight made Kyro feel sick as if his stomach were a still pond that someone stepped into with their bare feet. He needed a drink. He took one. It didn’t make him feel better. It never did.

"Who gave her that soul weapon?" Zyphrael pressed when no one spoke.

"That’s the least of our worries," Nethralis said. "Two patrons... a soul weapon... and that magic..."

Kyro nodded. "Yeah. That’ll get dangerous a few evs up."

"So?" Zyphrael asked. "What’re we gonna do about this?"

"What do you mean ’do about this?’" Kyro asked chillingly. "Nothing’s changed."

Zyphrael sneered back. "Nothing’s changed? The Oracle’s trying to conquer the forest. It’s giving a no name soul weapons and high-level magic. And you don’t think anything’s changed?"

While none of them had access to the Oracle, neophytes with the Oracle entered the forest every year and spoke and thought about it in great detail. Drokai spies had learned all its advantages—and all its limitations—and Mira’s situation was far beyond what other people stood to gain by the system.

"Back to that again?" I asked.

"But we can make you stronger."

I paused and reflected on his words seriously. Kline chose that moment to slink back on his own terms, laying in front of me in a range I couldn’t pet him. I didn’t try.

"How?" I asked.

"Well, we need to get Kline a soul core and gorge him with soul force so he can ride the river. We’ll do the same for you. After that... Well, we’ll take a visit to Arithiel Pond and let you evolve your mana core. We’ll train Kline out there—"

"Wait! Arithiel Pond? You mean the place where the lignan bugs were?"

"Um... yeah." He took another drink.

"You can’t be serious. There’s third evolution beasts there."

He nodded. "Yeah."

My lips parted, and I stared at him in shock. "So... what? You’re gonna protect us? Or..."

"Nope. Hate to break it to ya, but I’m cursed to the core. I can throw around one or two, but I don’t have the umph to do more."

"Cursed? Wait. Does that mean you’re from an upper domain?"

"Ding-ding-ding. Yooooooou got it. I’m a looooooong way from home. Curses are so bad I can only use elementals and soul force even after a century. And if I get beat up, I might as well be mortal. Fucking sucks."

He took another drink.

I looked away, feeling pain burrowing in my chest. "So... wait. You’re saying the Harvesters are stronger than you are?"

"No... not most of ’em. Well, yes, but actually... It’s complicated. Most these people’ve trained their whole life for the harvest. They work out and learn magic and train and kill people and play politics for twenty, thirty years before they show up. Give ’em your raw soul force, and even the bandits would tie their pack mules with your intestines."

I shuddered.

"Problem is, they don’t got the umph to do anything," he said. "They can take down something small... mother feasters... children... swarmers. But even a midrange second will do ’em in. There’ll be four or five of ’em, hitting it with magic on all sides. Whoosh! Boom. Plow. Sparks’ll be flying, and people’ll be screaming, and that beast’ll gore the living shit out of them... walk away wearing one as a wreath for their antlers. It’s depressing."

I thought back to the fighting. Kline earned tons of high level spells before even challenging the reiga, which were small swarming creatures. Then, we fought against the shalks, swarmers which were—what I assumed to be—mother feeders, as they ate their parents to level up after birth. Those were the weakest of the weak. But of the other two Kline fought, we injured one with a trap plant, and the white elk mangled Kline’s body, which left him on the verge of death. We needed magic to heal him.

As for me, I couldn’t even kill one of them until I learned Moxle Dilation and mana sharpening, and it took over a week to do serious damage to that bear—

—and that was with resources. By then, I had a strong mana core and all the soul meat and cores I could handle.

We were very lucky.

Yes, we worked hard and risked our lives and showcased talent—but we were also very lucky.

"Then there’s the legacies," Kyro said coldly. "They’ve got the umph."

My blood pressure spiked, and I looked at him with an accelerating heartbeat.

"Oh... yes. They’ve got the umph. I’m sure you think you’re special because you got strong cores and meat, but the richies import both from the upper domains. Turn their kids into psychopaths... kids aren’t normal. I’ve seen ’em use people as bait for beasts or force people to eat fungi to test whether it was edible. Zero empathy. And they’re strong for this domain, too. They slaughter the second evs for sport. Even tag team the thirds right out the gate. If the Torok didn’t show up to slap ’em around now and then, they’d get cocky and try to push on. Well, until they die of poisoning. But the little shits are rolling in imported elixirs and their clothes... fuck. I hate those shits."

It was weird to just hear a little human with wings venting like a drunken uncle, but it was useful information and proved that he cared about the right things.

"I don’t get it," I said. "If people can just import cores and meat... why haven’t they succeeded?"

Kyro smirked and wagged a finger at me. "Paranoia..." He took a drink and shuddered and sighed. "Good ol’ paranoia..." He collapsed on the grass, drowsy—drunk and dizzy. He looked like a doll just lying there, clearly suffering from whatever ailment was stabbing at him. So I just let him be, suppressing my desire to know the history of this world as I watched the sprites fly through the skies of Serenflora, hypnotized by the patterns they drew in the sky.

I felt a paw and turned down and saw Kline staring at me with big eyes.

"Oh come here." I thrust out my hands, and he pretended to run, allowing me to scoop him into my arms. He squirmed, but I said, "Oh shush. I couldn’t catch you if I tried."

He whined and pouted, but I held him against my breast and lay down again. We were exhausted. So, like Kyro, we drifted into sleep. We had three weeks to evolve our cores and get a crash course in soulmancy. So we would need it.