Wraithwood Botanist

B2 | Chapter 91 - Aftermath

Hadrian watched the carnage carefully. Aiden and the lurvine had found their way back to the barrier but were temporarily blind and suffering, so they weren’t going to help Mira. Her only consolation was that the torok had poor senses other than sight and sound, and their sight was burnt and their sense of hearing was damaged by the screaming everywhere.

Still, they were thrashing around, smashing everything in sight, and they were getting dangerously close to hitting Mira.

Mira was moving, though, and Hadrian thought she’d make it until one of the torok decided to sacrifice itself and run to the barrier. Unlike the lurvine, which had a soul pact with a harvester and could thus enter the grand ward, it would kill any other beast that entered the mouth. But the cretin crudely determined that it would rather suffer death than live without its eyes, so it charged.

Mira was five feet away—but she wasn’t close enough.

Or, rather, it was.

Mira made it, but this cowardly invalid dared to sacrifice its life rather than fight or live and train. It was no better than Jas, who had denied Mira her glory.

Not again.

He refused to let such a grotesque act desecrate this moment of glory.

2.

I had never had such powerful mixed feelings toward anyone as I had Hadrian. He just watched me crawl for my life, crying and sobbing and fighting without doing a goddamn thing. Then Brexton scared Jas, and it changed. Hadrian casually executed another family member, giving her hope. But then he ruined it by continuing to watch her with his arms folded.

It was total bullshit.

Everything was going down to the wire, and I almost made it when the torok charged. For a moment, I thought that everyone would just let me die as my brother screamed for them to help, but the bastard actually decided to act.

And god, I hate to give him credit, but it was really something.

He lifted his hand, and a blast of cold chilled my bones. Thousands of thick spears of ice formed above his head, glistening colorful prisms on the ground around me. Each of them radiated with an intense aura, spinning like bullets. It was suffocating.

"You disgust me," Hadrian said to the torok. He flicked his wrist, and the blades flew past me, impacting with piercing, bloody, squelching sounds. Each sound was followed by crackling as the wounds froze, cracked, and reformed.

I held my breath and listened—then my body bounced from the seismic wave of the titan falling to the ground.

It took me thirty seconds of blinding pain to recover from the impact, but I was so close, so I grabbed Kline and pulled him forward.

Three feet, two, one...

It was gruesome work, but after one thrust of my arm, I felt a buzzing chill and the sensation of cool tile on my fingertips. Then, I heard a chorus of cheers.

Cheering.

Fuck these people.

I found no glory in pain and suffering and all that other bullshit. I just wanted to survive, and I was crawling over the ground with a thirty-pound backpack and a cat.

But it did feel a little good, I guess.

So I kept pushing, pulling, clawing, and gasping until my whole chest was on the tile, and then I crawled some more.

I’m not sure when I got my whole body in, but I imagine it was about the time when Kalas’ callous ass released him.

"Mira!" Tyler screamed. He ran up and pulled my backpack off me like a normal, decent person and said, "Where’s your healing stuff? You have healing stuff, right?"

"No need," Hadrian said. He motioned to a rough-looking blonde with a hook nose and a tight bun, and she knelt beside me, grabbing my broken leg. It was facing eight o’clock, a truly terrifying sight, and this bitch had the great idea of man-handling it like a baseball bat.

"This is going to hurt," she warned as if I weren’t actively screaming. Then I heard a crack and blacked out.

3.

It would’ve been nice to see the miraculous effect of healing magic and whatever other voodoo they pulled off, but it was far better to just blackout and time-travel to a moment when I wasn’t in a state of agony. I woke up out of pain with Aiden and Tyler beside me, and that was a great relief.

"Uh..." I looked between them. "Where’s..."

"When I leave, I want you to sell some stuff I give you. And when you do, I want you to give all the money to the blind people and maybe... I don’t know. This world has magic, right? I’m sure there’s some type of ultra-elite blind swordsman shit. I can practically see with my eyes closed. Get a teacher and teach them soul and mana sight... or something. Look..." I paused. "Find a way for them to live... Actually that sounds difficult. Can you figure out who I can ask?"

"No, it’s okay," Aiden said. "I got a guy who sells things. He’s pretty much using me, but he’ll beg and claw to do this for you. There’s profound benefits to people using you. You should try it."

I sent him a long, mocking sneer. "You still gotta work on that optimism."

"Trust me, I’m trying. But every time I get into the groove, some... challenging things happen. It’s... a great learning opportunity. Another five years of this, and I’ll be able to lie to my mother."

I blinked twice, shocked by the fact that he said that with a serious face. Then he cracked a smile, and we burst into laughter.

It was warm. Somewhere in that state of mind that could’ve trenched in deep with thoughts of despair, having a little positivity went a long way.

Blindness wasn’t a true hindrance in a world of magic.

Mana sight. Soul sight. Training. There were ways to see without seeing, and even if these stupid mother fuckers would just use it to learn how to kill things again, they would be able to enjoy their lives.

That’s all that mattered.

I sighed a breath of relief. I did it. Somehow, I did it—and we all survived.

4.

It took about four more hours before I left the tent, feeling like Alexander the Great as people greeted me. A large group of people were bandaged up or bleeding out, not getting a whole lot of help from anyone, and stragglers filed in from the forest. It was the last day—people would be leaving for the gate in a few more hours.

Hadrian had put some torok’s meat onto an open flame, but looked bitter it wouldn’t cook. Hell, it would probably take three days to cook that meat—maybe more.

I owed him, so Kline and I braved the stares from others as we approached.

"She’s awake," Hadrian said with a slight smirk.

I coughed and turned away, telling myself not to hate him and that arrogant smirk. "Thank you."

"For what?" Hadrian asked.

"Never mind," I said, turning and walking away.

"Oh, come now," Hadrian said. "It’s a simple question with a simple answer. For what? I’m sure you see many things I’ve done as worthy of praise, but I see none."

"Not saving my life?" I asked dryly.

"I recall you dragging yourself through the barrier without a party’s aid." Hadrian shrugged. And I wanted this meat. It’s the Dante’s policy to never feast upon another’s quarry. It’s shameful enough to fight beasts you injured."

I sighed. "So you did it for meat?"

"I recall telling you that."

"Meat that won’t cook for three days?"

"We’ve saved some, of course. Many backpacks worth."

I took a frustrated breath. "What about... protecting me from... that Melhan guy?"

"What do you mean? That man died in the torok attack." He narrowed his eyes. "Don’t you remember?"

I nodded. "Now that you’ve reminded me..."

"See? There’s nothing to thank me for."

I looked around at the others who kept touching their eyes to check that they were actually healed. "What about healing those people?"

"Oh that," Hadrian said with an evil grin. "I expect favor for that. So I suggest you don’t thank me."