Willow's eyes sharpened.
Did he hurt her pride somewhere? Well, tough.
Markus held the gaze for a little while. Frowning, she looked away. He took her silence as tacit agreement to let the issue go.
"But what do we do now?" Magni asked. "This isn't just another elimination quest anymore."
Nikolas, who was wiping the blood off his shield with the tall grass, tensed. "But we...can't just leave this alone, right?"
Markus hummed. "That's a good question. Pull out the map for a minute."
The Merchant, being the porter, obliged. From one of her pockets, she pulled out the map that came with the quest notice. She laid it flat on the ground, and everyone crowded around.
"Where are we?" Markus asked.
"Uuum..." Magni pointed at a spot along the road. "About here. An hour before the half-way point toward Nulwiz."
"Anywhere past the half-way point is Nulwiz's jurisdiction. There are no settlements anywhere near here, and certainly none near Risadel." He paused, thinking. "We've gathered more than enough goblin ears to get the full reward and prove there's a monster spawner nearby. But it would be a shame to leave so soon. You two need the experience."
Nikolas nodded in acceptance, relaxed now that he knew people wouldn't be endangered, while Magni chuckled mirthlessly. She hadn't been much help.
"So how about this?" Markus smirked. "Three more nests. We'll get as much as we can get done, then we return in time for supper. You guys with—?"
"I'm afraid not."
The White Mage had stood up. Her gaze was cold and hard, facing the deeper parts of the forest.
"Sheesh, a mutiny already? I expected better from you, Nose Fixer—"
"Shush!" she hissed. "Don't you feel it?"
Then he listened.
Were he any lesser adventurer, he would've missed the slight trembling of the ground, the strange silence of the trees. Immediately, he was back on his feet with a firm grip on his sword. Nikolas and Magni, sensing the sudden mood, followed suit.
"How many?" he asked.
"Too many. Three big signatures... No, four? We need to go," she said. "Now."
Markus knew right then and there that this girl might've just saved their lives.
As party leader, he gave the order. "No time to waste! Let's go!"
Magni didn't need to be told twice. She scooped up the map and kicked off while shoving it into her pockets. Nikolas almost stumbled on his own feet before Markus grabbed him by the collar and pushed him ahead.
Markus and Willow were running side by side. It took a moment for the party leader to realize that she was doing the same thing as he was: making sure the newbies were right in front of them, never to be left behind.
"Mind telling us why we're running?!" Magni gasped. "What's even happening?!"
"The stench attracted an entire horde! We'll be surrounded if we stick around! When we get back to the wagon, tell your bird to just move it—!"
From the sky above, he heard a sound he never thought he would ever hear again.
Eyes wide, he shouted, "Hide behind something and get down!"
The destruction came like thunder.
An explosion rocked the earth, the shock passing through the party as if a giant had swung a club at their backs. A plume of leaves, rock, and dirt shot up into the air. They were almost tossed out of cover; Magni had been too late out before Willow pulled her face into the bark of a tree.
When the ringing in his ears stopped and he was confident the coast was clear, Markus raised his head, ignoring how a branch and some leaves stuck to him like a wig. He looked back and saw a crater where they once stood, the epicenter still burning red, like it had come from hell itself.
"Head count! Everyone alive?"
"Present."
"Just a little shaken up, Uncle."
"I-I think I got dirt up my nose... What even was that?"
"Good, good..." Markus pushed the fallen branch off his head. "Don't stop moving. There's more where that—"
The distant snapping of trees. The humming of the wind. This time, it wasn't coming from the sky.
The Swordsman's body moved on its own. His instincts, honed by the wilds of Rosarium, summoned the mana that had remained dormant for years, flowing into his blade to intercept what was coming.
It met the flat of his blade, but in that split second, he realized the sword would break first before it could deflect the object away from his party. So he adjusted his grip, pushed his legs and...
"Aaarggh!"
...caught the boulder with his shoulder.
The world blurred.
His back exploded with pain once, twice, thrice—losing count as he struck through at least a dozen trees like a bullet before burrowing into the last one.
Markus coughed, literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Rather than a boulder, it seemed more like a collection of rocks melted together. It was huge, about as big as he was tall, and he could feel the heat that seared it together. If it weren't for his constitution, he would've been squished into a red paste.
He tried to push it off, but it wouldn't budge. Not enough leverage. Damage was worse than he thought. Entire arm might be crushed underneath. It would explain why he was all numb down there.
"Uncle Markus!" Nikolas was the first to find him. His eyes were frantic. "Everyone! He's over here! A-And he's hurt!"
"Kid...?"
"Hang on, I'll get this off of you!" Nikolas threw his entire weight against the boulder. "Come on! Come on...!"
Magni was next. "Old man!"
Had they fanned out just to find where he had landed? Precious minutes were being wasted, and the trembles were growing stronger.
Markus coughed, thick saliva clogging up his throat. "I would've been fine. Y'all should've just gone!"
"Yeah, sorry!" Magni said. "Not my policy to neglect the elderly!"
"Oh, for—! I'm only in my mid-thirties!"
"Can't hear you! Too busy trying to save your life!" Magni ran around trying to find a spot in the tree where the boulder could be nudged loose. She braced her back against the bark and pushed with her legs, but the damn thing was perfectly lodged in there, along with half of Markus's body. "Urk! Is it even moving?!"
Damn it. To think he would be done in like this. Things would've been different had he gotten better equipment, a better sword.
Or...had he been complacent? Got too satisfied with himself and stopped too soon?
Maybe with what little time they had left, they could...
But that hope was dashed by the sound of whistling from above. Many, many sounds. Like a symphony of mockery.
He tried to shout, to tell them to get away. But the more he tried to speak, something was climbing up his esophagus to silence him. Why, dammit?! Why, why, why—!?
"[Barrier]!"
The White Mage arrived in the nick of time as a translucent wall encircled the party.
The tree nearby: obliterated. Nothing but saw dust. Then hell rained down on them.
Stones mowed through the trees and ripped the stumps out of the earth. Dust and dirt and decay splattered against the White Mage's spell, digging into the barrier from the sheer force of the ruptures like shrapnel. But those were just the lucky few that missed.
One struck the barrier, and the White Mage winced. There was another hit, but this time she dug her heels and pushed more mana through the staff, manifesting another layer. It was thick yet viscous, like a soft outer shell, and it took the brunt of the volley again and again, like a window against the hail.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
For fifty long, hellish seconds, they were under fire, blinded by the clouds of dust.
And just as soon as it came, it stopped.
What once had been a healthy part of the forest was now the ruins of a clearing. The dust parted, revealing the naked sky and the White Mage's barrier completely covered in cracks.
She fell to her knees with a gasp. No more mana.
With many of the trees gone, the horde came into sight.
Goblins, hundreds of them, bled through the forest, blotting the scenery like weeds. Some of them were carrying spears, bows, helmets, and armor—all splotched in pitch black, dripping in Demontide. And behind them were three giants, marching in heavy, earth-trembling footsteps.
Ogres.
Magni had turned pale. "Shit..."
Yeah. Shit.
Markus felt dizzy. There was another ringing in his ears. Something warm was flowing down the back of his head. He could hardly think clearly anymore.
But at the very least, he still knew the right thing to do...
"Forget it... Y'all need to run."
"What?" Nikolas shook his head in disbelief. "No... Uncle Markus, we can't!"
"Yes, you can!"
"W-What about Aunt Haydee?! What about—?!"
Markus howled. "What are ya, deaf?! I said run—!"
"[Featherlight]."
A shadow hovering above them interrupted their argument.
He heard Nikolas and Magni gasp. For a moment, he thought the horde was already upon them. But then he realized the weight over him was suddenly gone.
One ogre raised its hand, seeing what was coming long before Markus could process what was happening. It tried to catch it, but it was too fast.
The boulder smashed into the ogre's head right before the Swordsman's disbelieving eyes.
It was a common trope, both for its narrative momentum and expositive convenience.
Whenever the Hero went on a journey, they needed a Mentor to guide the way. They would teach the Hero all they needed to know to overcome their future challenges, and once the Mentor served their purpose, they were removed from the story. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they stayed dead.
Maybe it would've worked out in the end. Maybe Markus would've survived, or maybe Nikolas would've unlocked some hidden, special powers and save the day like the protagonist he was meant to be. A chance that it would all be alright.
But she hated leaving things to chance.
Every time they finished an encounter, every time they entered anywhere close to resembling a boss arena, she would send out pulses of mana. Scanning. Waiting. Watching. All to catch the moment where everything went wrong.
Funny. After agonizing over so many maybes for so long, she decided to just derail the whole thing the moment the plot came. It was the stupidest she had ever felt in both of her lives.
The empty mana potion shattered on the ground.
Mana ran hot in her veins, flowing through her tendons. The [Reinforcement] spell was not meant for a person of blood and flesh, so she had to use a quick and dirty modification. It was crude, inelegant, and, above all, inefficient. A real Mage would froth at the mouth at what she was doing, but it was enough for her purposes.
"[Featherlight]."
Everyone stared slack-jawed as Willow raised a broken tree with one hand.
The ogres stopped marching. The headless corpse of one of their own reminded them of what she could do. The goblins, however, just kept going, swinging their crude weapons, snarling like savage beasts, too emboldened by their own numbers to even consider they were charging into their deaths.
When the front lines finally got close enough to her, she swung the tree. They were caught on the branches, swept into the gaps, but by the end of the swing, they were sent flying bereft of their arms and armor.
She swung again, and those who still came were crushed by the tree's weight. Then, flowing with the momentum and flicking her hips, the tree circled around toward the rest unaware, painting the bark in dark green.
Now the tree had lost half of its leaves, and the dead took their place. Through the overwhelming stench of so many corpses, only then did the horde of goblins hesitate.
No more wanted to walk into range, so she did the next best thing and hurled the tree.
[Featherlight] was a strange spell. Maybe the closest thing she had to a cheat. For the wielder, something as big as a building could move as well as a feather, yet interact with its surroundings with its original mass, defying not just the laws of gravity but also the laws of momentum.
So even when it left her hand, the tree was still moving as fast as she swung it, launching it forward with a tremendous crack.