Chapter 109 ‒ The Silent Flutter
Chapter 109 ‒ The Silent Flutter
A pale hush cloaked Ivory Glen as moonlight spilled across the winding stone paths. Soft petals from high-blooming lantern flowers drifted in the air, catching in the fur and feathers of the villagers who now gripped whatever tools they could find — rusty pitchforks, splintered brooms, old pruning shears. Tyler stepped into the village’s outer ring like a looming shadow, his boots crunching broken twigs and pale blossoms beneath each heavy step.
His visor glowed faintly under the moon, each breath rattling inside his helmet like a storm trapped in a jar. His fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, though he kept it lowered.
“Please… just go home,” he said to himself. But the villagers couldn’t hear — or perhaps they chose not to. Their eyes, wide and terrified, shimmered with the primal desperation of creatures forced into an unwinnable corner.
A villager lunged first, brandishing a rake with trembling paws. Tyler exhaled sharply, flicking his wrist.
[Activated Skill: Forcepush]
The villager flew backward, crashing into a pile of empty baskets. Another villager, a stout beaver with a rusted spade, charged forward. Tyler ducked to the side, raising a palm.
[Activated Skill: Spider Web]
Thick white strands shot out, pinning the beaver against a fruit stall. He struggled weakly, eyes wide in panic.
A shrill cry rose as a group of smaller villagers — rabbits and squirrels — charged in together, their teeth bared more in terror than rage. Tyler clenched his jaw, his heart hammering against his ribs.
[Activated Skill: Screech]
A concussive wave burst from him, throwing the group backward like dolls, tools clattering across the cobblestones. Tyler’s breaths came in ragged gasps now, sweat slicking his brow beneath the helmet.
I don’t want this. I don’t want to hurt them. Please… stop coming. Please…
The air smelled of crushed flowers and overturned soil, and each step deeper into the village pressed guilt deeper into his spine. Each unconscious villager he stepped past left a mark on his heart sharper than any blade.
Finally, the moonlit garden came into view — the sacred grove of Chrysopteryxiella Umbrosynth. The luminous petals pulsed like tiny heartbeats, casting soft cyan light that danced along the dew-laden leaves. Tyler felt something shudder inside his chest, an ache so deep he nearly buckled.
He stepped forward, reaching for the first blossom with trembling fingers.
A soft hum rose above the garden. Tyler’s head snapped up.
[Enemy Identified: Monarch Butterfly, Level 100]
There, cutting a slow, majestic arc across the moon, hovered the Monarch Butterfly. Its massive wings shimmered with countless flecks of luminous blue, drifting down like stardust. Its antennae trembled in the wind, and for a moment, it looked almost serene — as if it had always been part of the sky.
Tyler’s eyes narrowed, a sudden flash of raw frustration cutting through the haze of guilt.
“Why now? Why here?!”
He snapped his fingers forward.
[Activated Skill: Lightning Bolt]
A crackling spear of electricity burst into the sky, slicing through the cold air. The Monarch Butterfly dipped elegantly, the bolt missing by several feet. Tyler cursed, teeth grinding. He fired again, then again — each bolt lighting up the orchard in harsh, strobing flashes, each one failing to land.
Breathe. Remember Umbravox. Remember the Eagle Mother. Pin the flight pattern…
But the Monarch Butterfly didn’t attack. It merely drifted above, scattering a fresh wave of glittering blue dust. Below, the villagers Tyler had subdued began to twitch. Slowly, shakily, they rose again, tools in hand, eyes glazed but resolute.
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“No… please… stay down,” Tyler whispered hoarsely.
But they charged once more. He repeated the motions — [Forcepush], [Spider Web], [Screech]. Each suppression felt heavier than the last, his energy draining along with his spirit.
When he turned to pluck another Chrysopteryxiella Umbrosynth, the Monarch Butterfly circled above again, shimmering. More blue dust fell. The villagers rose once more, a scene from some twisted marionette show. Again. And again.
By the sixth time, Tyler’s hands shook so violently he could barely form the skill gestures.
“Stop. Please. Stop coming. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.”
His vision blurred, each heartbeat echoing like a war drum. As he reached for yet another flower, a kitten clawed at his leg, shrieking mindlessly. Tyler stumbled, breath catching in his throat. The red energy flared along the edges of his vision, his teeth clenching so hard he thought they might shatter.
“ENOUGH!”
A strangled roar ripped from his throat.
[Activated Skill: Gigantify]
The ground cracked beneath his feet as his body expanded, armour plates grinding and reshaping around his massive limbs. Red sparks danced along his gauntlets, his helmet visor glowing a menacing crimson. The villagers scattered in terrified screams, some diving into ditches, others hiding beneath carts.
Tyler stomped forward, thunderous echoes splitting the air.
THUD.
The shockwave snapped rooftops in half, wooden walls splintering like twigs. Dust and petals shot into the moonlit sky as if the village itself cried out. The Monarch Butterfly dipped and fluttered wildly, momentarily forced lower.
Tyler’s breath roared inside his helmet like a hurricane. His blood felt molten, his eyes wild and unblinking. Every movement radiated a violent impatience.
He lunged, massive fists swiping through the air as he tried to grab the Monarch Butterfly. Each swipe tore through walls and stalls, each step crushing gardens and scattering terrified villagers like leaves in a storm.
His mind tunnelled to a single point: Kill. Remove obstacle. Complete objective.
The Monarch Butterfly soared upward, but Tyler’s massive strides crushed fences as he pursued it relentlessly. Finally, he forced it into a grove of towering trees, the canopy choking its manoeuvrability.
THUD.
Tyler clapped his hands as hard as he could. The echo rang like a cannon, sending birds fleeing into the moonlit sky. The Monarch Butterfly staggered, wings shimmering violently as it struggled to stay aloft.
Tyler’s red gaze locked on the weakened creature. He charged.
[Activated Skill: Ram]
His massive form slammed into the Monarch Butterfly, pinning it against a mossy boulder. The creature’s HP bar flickered wildly, a thin sliver of light left.
Before it could emit another healing pulse, Tyler roared.
[Activated Skill: Berserk]
A flurry of savage blows pounded into the Monarch Butterfly, the final strike crushing its delicate frame. The air shimmered with a final burst of luminous dust as it collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
[+25 XP]
[Achievement Unlocked: Monarch’s Lost Light]
[Grade: B]
[Condition: Defeat the guardian of Ivory Glen, Monarch Butterfly.]
[Acquired Runestone — Rejuvenate]
[Skill: Rejuvenate]
[Heals 30% of total health when used on self, 15% on others. PE cost: 20]
A sudden hush fell over the village. No more shimmering dust. No more rising villagers. Just quiet. A horrible, heavy quiet.
The red glow in Tyler’s visor faded slowly, as if a dark tide receded, leaving him bare and shaking beneath his armour. His breath caught in ragged bursts. His eyes darted across the broken rooftops, the shattered fences, the wilted gardens trampled under his feet.
A young squirrel clutched a splintered toy, sobbing into the dirt. A mother crouched low, shielding her whimpering child beneath her torn cloak. Ash and petals drifted in the wind like ghostly confetti.
Tyler’s fingers twitched at his sides. His throat felt raw, as if he’d swallowed coals. The red haze in his mind cleared, leaving only acidic guilt gnawing at every edge of his consciousness.
“What have I done? How did I let it take over… again?”
He took a shaky step forward, as if to offer a hand — to help, to say something, anything. But the villagers recoiled, eyes wide, some falling back as they dragged the injured away.
Tyler stopped. His gauntlets hung heavy at his sides, as if they’d become shackles.
I can’t fix this. Not with words. Not now.
A hot sting welled behind his eyes, and his breaths shuddered. Slowly, painfully, he turned back toward the garden of Chrysopteryxiella Umbrosynth. The petals still pulsed in the moonlight, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them.
With trembling fingers, he plucked each blossom carefully, almost reverently, as if they might shatter at his touch. His armour still dripped with splinters and dust, yet he moved like a ghost, silent and haunted.
For Ashborough… for Frank… Anne… Milo… I have to. I have to keep moving. I have to make this right. Somehow.
Each flower felt heavier than iron in his hands. Every petal was another sin he piled onto his shoulders.
As he gathered the last few, he looked up. The moon hovered high above, cold and watchful. Somewhere deep in his mind, Miho’s voice echoed like a fading chime.
“Promise…”
Tyler’s mouth twitched, a strangled sob clawing up his throat.
“I will. Even if I have to crawl through hell itself.”
He turned from the garden, his silhouette wavering in the moonlight as if struggling to stay solid. Slowly, step by step, he disappeared into the dark forest beyond the village walls. The petals of Chrysopteryxiella Umbrosynth quivered gently in the night air, like tiny, silent witnesses to the monster who had just passed among them.