Dion clung to a massive branch of a towering tree, its thick crown resisting the morning sun's feeble attempts to break through. Clad in a sleek, durable animal hide outfit, crafted from a vibrant green pelt, he blended seamlessly with his surroundings. His gaze fixated on a distant mountain, where the cave's entrance beckoned like the yawning maw of a ravenous beast, swallowing all traces of light.
Well, the operation had already begun and Dion was hiding and biding his time on top of a very tall tree. He left the house early before anybody woke up and the sun was just rising. But he ignored all that and concentrated on his target — the cave of the fox.
He wouldn't gamble on assuming the fox is out and entering the cave; he would rather wait for a week and see the fox come out with his eyes before going in. Performing this risky mission requires patience.
Time trickled slowly but Dion didn't get impatient. The wind rustled the leaves of the tree and the sun accompanied him. Occasional roars of beasts echoed from the distance.
Momentarily, his mind wandered to other things because of boredom but his focus was ninety percent on the cave's entrance.
After watching a silent dark cave for about six hours without any change, a thought sprang into his head — what if the fox isn't in? Getting the red crystals and escaping would be smooth like collecting candies from a kid.
But he instantly eradicated the suicidal whisper; only death awaits him if the beast is inside. He continued his wait. A boring wait at that.
But when Dion got distracted, the whisper ran into his mind, tempting him to enter the cave. But he shook his head and dismissed it as his paranoia talking. He remained in his position.
As the sun made its descent toward the western horizon, Dion's ears caught wind of slow, heavy footsteps, their echoing presence reaching his ears even from a considerable distance.
He instantly squinted his eyes at the entrance of the cave as his focus reached its peak. Slowly, a gigantic, white fox that was as tall as a horse but more muscular and flurry emerged from the depth of the cave.
The fox's eyes roamed around the forest, its eyes gleaming with intelligence, unlike wild beasts.
Despite the distance, when the fox's eyes ran over him, Dion felt all the hairs on his nape stand erect. Chill slithered down his spine. All the confidence in his blade collapsed, and the thought of fighting the beast disappeared.
But the fox didn't see Dion. It went on its way slowly, looking meek if the height was ignored.
Dion pondered, 'If Aura Flare could fight this thing, why does that feral clown look plain to me? Has she somehow dulled her own dangerousness? Or perhaps the harsh wilderness has shaped the fox in unique ways?' His gaze followed the fox's confident saunter, venturing deeper into the forest, a place he dared not enter.
Dion didn't enter the cave immediately but remained in his position. Luckily, he did that because the fox abruptly rushed back not long after it vanished from Dion's sight. It quickly ran into its cave first before it came out and surveyed the surroundings meticulously. Its eyes darted around, focusing on the tree around Dion's position.
Dion sharply threw his gaze aside after he remembered something he read — some beasts have the vigilant instinct to feel when something or someone is staring at them.
Dion shrank into the tree. Halting his breath, he prayed silently. His heart drummed chaotically in his chest. When he peeked from the corner of his eyes and found the fox's eyes fixed on his tree, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He quickly looked away. His palm was becoming slick with sweat from maintaining a still posture. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead but he didn't dare move a muscle. Hugging the tree tightly, he felt like entering the branch to hide from the beast.
Eternity seems to have passed before he finally mustered the courage to peek. Using the corner of his eyes to peep, his heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw the fox's position empty. From his vantage point, his eyes quickly roamed the forest. When he didn't see any sign of the fox, he released his tight grip around the tree and exhaled the pent-up air.
He muttered with trembling arms, "Th-That was dreadful. I am 120% sure that thing can easily kill me. Let's wait and watch if it will return."
Dion continued waiting patiently because the spirit of fear had chased the spirit of impatience. He couldn't be brash about entering the cave of the fox because it could also be a prison: the cave has only one way in and one way out — the entrance. If he enters the cave and the fox returns... hehehe.
He lost track of time but the sun was already going on.
"Okay. It's time," he muttered and slowly climbed down from the gigantic tree.
With slow and calculated steps, he closed in on the cave.
When he reached the entrance of the cave, he looked left and right vigilantly but didn't see anything suspicious. Steeling his heart, Dion ran into the cave with one aim — fill the bag hung around his shoulder with red crystals and run away after getting about thirty crystals.
Getting greedy might result in a foolish death.
The cave was dry with rough and uneven floors. But it was also very tall, bigger than a regular human building. Finally, he reached the deepest part. His step halted and his eyes widened at the sight of a little mountain of red crystals piled up on the floor but he immediately recovered.
Without delay, Dion lunged at the red crystals like a starving wolf and began filling his bag. One by one, he focused on the task, forgetting about his surroundings. His hands kept moving, displacing the red crystals into the bag hung around his shoulder. But… something was wrong.
"...78, 79, 80..." he counted calmly.
Despite the countless mantras and stern warnings he had imparted upon himself, he succumbed to the forgotten consequences of greed. It now ran rampant within him, consuming his every thought. His mind became a vessel filled with the allure of crimson crystals. Sinister, vein-like lines of blood-red snaked and branched from the corners of his eyes, creeping inexorably toward his iris.
"...93, 94, 95…"
Dion wasn't feeling the change in his body and mind. He kept on picking and counting red crystals. Unconsciously, his eye intent activated, but Dion still felt nothing. His mind was clouded with two words — red crystals. He needed more. He planned to stop when he had enough red crystals, but when was it enough?
When Dion noticed the bag full, he ran out and made a makeshift bag with vines to continue collecting red crystals. He forgot his location. Satisfying his urge to get more red crystals took over his priority.
Squatting in front of the heap of red crystals, both his iris glowed with a haunting crimson hue with branches of red veins snaking across his sclera. His voice pierced the silence as he continued, "...135, 136…"
He was engrossed with the red crystals.