Volume 2 – 7. Into the Wilds
The Riverfork Region was a vast temperate forest shaped as much by the nearby Riverfork ley lines as by nature itself. Over countless years, the land had gradually divided into four distinct regions, each with its own terrain and level of Corruption. Although the old Imperial roads along the northern edge remained physically intact thanks to Weave-reinforced foundations, they were no longer considered safe. Hollowed frequently wandered out the roads, turning them into little more than death traps.
After considering their options, Lucien led the group toward the Temperate Mixed Forest in the northern part of the region.
Towering oaks, beeches, and scattered silverpines rose overhead, their immense branches weaving together into a canopy so dense that only scattered shafts of sunlight reached the forest floor. Even during the day, the woods felt perpetually caught between afternoon and dusk.
The old Fawnridge Trail still cut through the forest, once a major route for hunters and loggers before the Eclipse. Nowadays, however, several of the ancient pines lining the trail had become known as the Whispering Pines. Since the Eclipse, they occasionally vibrated with strange, unsettling frequencies capable of injuring anyone who lingered nearby.
The forest was also home to Stactians—large migratory herbivores recognized by their sprawling antlers—as well as numerous predators that hunted along the distributaries of the Ironflow River. Among them were the Amber-Eyed Bramble-Cutter, the Ridge-Stalker, the Thicket-Cutter, the Crested Harrier, and several other ambush predators that had grown markedly more aggressive since the Eclipse, to the point of actively hunting humans. Even someone as confident in his observational skills found them notoriously difficult to detect before they struck.
Ordinarily, he would have avoided those riverbanks altogether.
“...But unfortunately, I don't have that luxury today.”
“Hm?” Kira lowered his voice. “What do you mean?”
Sylphie, walking between them, was breathing a little harder now. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened across her forehead as she carefully stepped over the maze of exposed roots beneath her feet.
They had already entered the Temperate Mixed Forest and were making their way parallel to one of the Ironflow River's branching channels, staying far enough from the bank to avoid the thickest vegetation while keeping the water within sight through gaps between the trees.
The forest floor was uneven beneath layers of fallen leaves. Massive roots twisted across the ground, moss-covered logs lay scattered throughout the woods, and fallen branches demanded constant attention. Kira moved through the terrain as naturally as if he belonged there, and Lucien followed without much trouble. Sylphie, however, was clearly having a harder time keeping pace.
Sorry, Lucien thought quietly.
Turning back to Kira, he answered, “The flower Fauli asked me to collect grows near the riverbanks.”
“Ah.”
Understanding immediately crossed Kira's face.
A few moments later, Lucien crouched beside a patch of damp earth and carefully brushed aside several broad leaves.
“There it is.”
Nestled in the shade was a small orchid no taller than his hand. Three pale, translucent white petals surrounded a deep indigo, bell-shaped center, while faint lavender tinged the edges of each petal. Tiny droplets of moisture clung to the flower, making it shimmer softly in the filtered light.
The Dew-Drop Orchid.
It grew only in the cool, muddy soil beside shaded creek beds, blooming where the morning moisture lingered the longest.
In the early morning, the orchid's petals stood fully open, cradling a single marble-sized droplet of clear, viscous sap that resembled an oversized bead of dew. If harvested after the morning mist had burned away, however, the petals would curl inward like a clenched fist, and the once-clear sap would turn a cloudy yellow—a sign that it had soured into a potent toxin.
Carefully, Lucien placed the flower into a small preservation vial specially designed to prevent that change.
“Huh…?” Sylphie asked, still catching her breath. “Didn't you say the flower Miss Fauli wanted grows near the riverbanks?”
“She did.” Lucien corked the vial and slipped it into his pouch. “This one's for me.”
That made one of the three ingredients Seren had requested.
“The plants you're looking for should mostly be around Mistwood Watch,” he continued, rising to his feet. “I need to collect something there as well. Before we head over, though, could you help me gather the flower Fauli asked for?”
“Of course,” Kira answered without a second thought.
Sylphie let out a quiet breath and smiled, looking a little relieved.
“I'd be happy to walk somewhere with easier footing.”
Lucien couldn't help returning the smile.
“I'd appreciate that.”
Fortunately, they didn't have to search for long.
Not far from one of the Ironflow's branching channels, a cluster of flowers with pale silver petals swayed gently in the breeze.
“There they are.”
The easygoing expression disappeared from Lucien's face, replaced by quiet concentration as his eyes swept across the surrounding woods.
“Alright,” he said in a low voice. “I'll take point. Sylphie, stay behind me. Kira, cover the rear.”
Neither of them objected.
A handful of birds and insects still filled the forest with scattered calls, though nowhere near as many as before the Eclipse.
After making sure no predators were lurking nearby, the three of them moved through a thinner stretch of undergrowth toward the riverbank. Reaching the flowers, Lucien knelt and carefully loosened the soil around one of them before lifting it free with its roots intact.
Just as Fauli had described, the freshly unearthed roots gave off a faint bluish glow.
“Is that everything?” Sylphie asked softly.
“Yes.” Lucien placed the Starveil Bloom into a separate preservation container before standing. “Let's head back.”
He turned and stiffened, his expression sharpened instantly.
Kira reacted almost at the same moment. The Wolfkin's ears shot upright, and his grip tightened around the hilt of the bastard sword he had already drawn.
Sylphie hadn't noticed anything yet, but the abrupt change in their body language was enough to put her on alert. She immediately raised her staff and scanned the surrounding trees, unconsciously quieting her breathing.
The forest had gone unnaturally still.
The few birds and insects that had been making noise only moments ago had fallen completely silent.
Lucien's gaze snapped toward the trail they had taken.
Several thick, woody briar vines along its edge had been sliced cleanly in half.
His nostrils flared.
Beneath the damp scent of earth and moss lingered another smell—a faint, static-like mix of crushed pine needles and ozone.
This is...
Recognition struck him immediately.
“Damn it!”
Almost simultaneously, Kira lunged forward and swung his bastard sword at something that burst from the undergrowth and pounced straight at the group.
“What is that?!” Sylphie asked, her voice tightening.
“The Thicket-Cutter!” Lucien answered.
The moment the words left his mouth, he slipped into Shadow Concealment, his figure blending into the surrounding gloom as he searched for an opening to strike.
The creature prowling before them resembled a massive lynx, though broader and more heavily muscled than any ordinary feline. Its mottled olive-green coat blended perfectly with the rotting leaves carpeting the forest floor, while irregular black stripes along its limbs broke up its outline whenever it moved. Flexible, wood-like thorns protruded from its spine, forelegs, and tail, and its amber eyes reflected the daylight like polished mirrors.
Kira's swing had apparently startled it.
The beast sprang back several meters, lowering its body into a crouch instead of fleeing.
Lucien clicked his tongue.
This isn't the kind of Shadowstep practice I had in mind.
Keeping to the shadows, he began circling the predator in search of an opening, but the Thicket-Cutter's head tracked him almost immediately, its amber eyes locking onto his position despite his concealment. A faint frown crossed Lucien's face.
It can still follow me...
“Wait a moment.”
Sylphie's voice cut through the tension.
She clasped both hands around her staff and struck its base against the ground. A string of flowing words in the Nephilim tongue left her lips, the unfamiliar cadence making Lucien's ears ache slightly.
A few seconds later, a dome of pale light roughly three meters across enveloped the three of them.
The Thicket-Cutter recoiled at once, leaping backward with a low growl.
At the same time, Lucien let out a quiet hiss of pain.
“What is this?” he asked, instinctively rubbing his forearm.
“It prevents Stage 3 Hollows from entering this area,” Sylphie explained, glancing at him apologetically. “Though... it doesn't truly repel them. It tends to attract them instead.” She lowered her eyes slightly. “I'm sorry.”
“No, it's fine.” The sensation was little more than a mild burning across his skin. “More importantly...” He frowned. “If it attracts them, what was your plan?”
“I thought we could retreat to Mistwood Watch,” she replied. “It isn't far from here.”
Mistwood Watch was a fortified outpost overlooking the plains beyond the Riverfork Region, lying to the west of their current position.
“That's not a bad idea,” Lucien admitted, though the crease between his brows only deepened. “But what exactly do we do after we get there with every Hollow in the area following us?”
“...”
Sylphie fell silent.
The corner of Lucien's mouth twitched.
...She didn't think that far ahead.