“This batch isn’t great,” Mimi admitted between bites. “But hey, I can’t be picky.” Then she cheerfully crunched her way through the rest of her ration.
After the meal, the group relaxed, their stomachs full and bodies grateful for the pause.
“I’m stuffed!” Delarosa flopped back onto the floor, hands on her belly.
“How much farther is it?” Navasha asked, stretching as she yawned. “We walked forever already.”
“I’ve walked so much my feet are crying,” Medello groaned, slumping beside her with a look of dramatic exhaustion.
“According to the map, we’ve still got a long way to go,” Belamus said, scanning the parchment by the dim light of their campfire.
“It seems so,” Liza agreed with a nod. “And starting tomorrow, we’ll be entering the northern stretch of the forest. The monsters there will be stronger. We’ll need to be extra cautious.”
They were still relatively close to Beresdral, where the threat level remained manageable. But the deeper they pushed north, the more dangerous the Great Frazes Forest would become.
Delarosa waved a hand dismissively. “Please, even if the monsters are a bit stronger, we’ve got Belamus and me. We’ll be fine!”
“That might be true,” Liza replied sharply, “but overconfidence is dangerous. Keep your guard up.”
Her tone was firm, more a warning than a chastisement. Delarosa might have grown stronger, but her impulsiveness still needed tempering.
Mimi, who had been quiet until now, suddenly looked up, her expression tight. “There’s still a chance we’ll run into dwarven assassins.”
That caught Belamus’s attention. “Right… I’ve been meaning to ask: what exactly are these assassins like?”
Mimi glanced around, as if expecting someone to jump out from the trees at any moment. “I mentioned that dwarves create machines, right? Well… the assassins use those in battle. Not just tools for daily life, but combat-grade constructs. They’re fast, precise, and built to kill.”
“Automatons…” Belamus muttered, his eyes narrowing.
This complicates things. Monsters, at least, had patterns, weak points he could exploit with his deep knowledge of magical creatures. But machines? He knew little of their structure or weaknesses. And in combat, ignorance was always dangerous.
Still, he didn’t show his doubt.
No matter what they throw at me, he thought, I have no intention of losing.
He’d survived more battles than he could count, across both this life and the one before it. He’d bested threats with and without preparation. He wouldn’t fall here, not to some mechanical puppet.
As night deepened, the group gradually settled into sleep beneath the comfort of the magical shelter. It was far too luxurious to call “camping,” but none of them were complaining.
Morning came, and with it, another leg of the journey.
The first part of the day was uneventful. A few weak monsters crossed their path, easily dispatched. But the farther north they moved, the stronger the resistance became.
Suddenly, the bushes ahead rustled with strange movement.
“Something weird’s coming!” Delarosa cried, eyes wide.
From the underbrush, a towering insect burst into view: a massive, mantis-like creature with serrated forelimbs and glossy green chitin. It was a monster none of them had encountered near Beresdral. The closest approximation was a praying mantis, but this was far larger, faster, and more aggressive.
“A King Mantis,” Belamus identified immediately.
The beast lunged forward, scythe-like arms raised. Navasha, who had been closest, barely managed to block the attack with her blade, her arms bracing from the impact. A flash of steel followed as Liza darted in from the side and, with precise timing, severed the creature’s head with a single clean stroke.
It collapsed, but the victory was short-lived.
From the surrounding foliage, more King Mantises emerged. Not one or two, but dozens. In moments, the group was surrounded. There were twenty mantises at least, encircling the group in a tightening ring of bladed limbs and gleaming eyes.
Wider-range magic was too risky; any explosive spells would likely injure their own party. They’d have to take them down one by one.
Belamus raised his hand. “Light Arrow!”
He fired with surgical precision, bolts of pure radiance tearing through the heads of the advancing mantises. Delarosa and Medello followed his lead, casting the same spell and cutting through the swarm from the flanks.
Unfortunately, the mantises were fast, blindingly so. A cluster of ten surged forward in unison, and while most were shot mid-leap, three slipped through the barrage and slashed downward with their scythes.
Liza and Navasha were already moving. Steel clashed with claw as they intercepted the attack. In fluid, practiced motions, they parried and countered, severing heads with ruthless efficiency.
One by one, the remaining King Mantises fell, until at last the final insect dropped twitching to the ground.
Mimi had been crouched the entire time, hands over her head, trembling violently. “Th-That was terrifying! There were so many of them…”
She peeked up only once the buzzing had faded, her voice small and shaking.
Liza exhaled, wiping blood from her blade. “It’s clear: the deeper we go, the stronger the monsters become. That group was noticeably faster and more aggressive than anything we’ve fought so far.”
“Huh? Really?” Delarosa asked, tilting her head. “Didn’t feel that different to me. There were just a lot of them.”
She stretched lazily, clearly unfazed, while Mimi continued to tremble behind her.
As they pushed farther north, a new sound cut through the forest: a harsh, rhythmic buzzing, loud enough to rattle their ears.
“Ugh, what is that noise?” Delarosa groaned, covering her ears.
“It’s coming from those bugs,” Medello said, pointing to the ground.
There, nestled in the grass, were small brown insects that looked somewhat like grasshoppers. Each had a round structure on its back that vibrated rapidly, producing an incessant, grating sound.
“That’s a Glaz Insect,” Belamus said after a quick glance, raising his voice slightly to speak over the deafening buzzing. “They’re loud—extremely loud—but completely harmless. No attack power at all. They can’t even reproduce unless they evolve first.”
He spoke with calm authority, recalling the details from his past life. One of his apprentices had specialized in the study of magical creatures and had once rambled extensively about these noisy pests. Their sheer volume and complete lack of threat made them memorable, if nothing else.
“They have a peculiar habit,” he added. “When they evolve, they burrow underground to mate. It’s the only way their species can reproduce.”