The deeper they pushed, the stranger the forest became.
The foreign sun—dim and violet—hung low, casting shifting shadows through the skeletal trees. Their bark was a sickly gray, and seemed to breathe faintly with each windless moment. The canopy above had thinned, not from altitude or terrain, but as if the forest itself had suffered—burned, torn, and left scarred.
Every step squelched with damp decay. The ground beneath their boots was neither soil nor stone but something in between—organic, with the give of rot but the weight of bone.
None of them spoke unless they had to. The silence of this place was sacred, and cruel.
Erilan raised his hand to halt the group.
Koda followed his gaze. Up ahead, in a shallow basin between sloped roots and jagged stones, movement twitched in the shadows—slow and deliberate.
Grent and Lumia crouched low beside a shattered trunk, the air buzzing faintly with tension. Renn flanked left, eyes narrowed beneath her hood, bow already half drawn.
And there they saw them.
A dozen or more figures hunched around a malformed firepit. They were tall—taller than a grown man—their spines curved in unnatural arcs beneath pale, scaled skin. Not the dry, papery hide of kobolds, but hardened, rippling scale. Reptilian. Almost noble in build, but twisted. Their wings—if they had ever functioned—now hung like torn sails from their backs, thick with sores, the membranes blackened and veined like dead leaves.
They moved with the slow ritual of creatures who once knew grace… and had lost it.
Their faces were angular, with deep-set eyes that shimmered like oil in moonlight, too wide and too aware. They did not chatter or grunt. They didn't need to. There was intelligence there—simmering low, coiled like a trap.
Koda tightened his grip on his blade's hilt, the summoned weight humming against his palm.
These weren't kobolds, he thought. They were something older. Corrupted.
Lumia whispered, barely a breath. "Those aren't catalogued. They shouldn't be here."
"They're infected," Erilan murmured. "Or changed by something deeper."
The camp was loosely arranged—bone-pierced stakes around a central nest of crude bedding. Makeshift weapons leaned against rock walls: spears with crystalline heads, curved blades not forged but grown. Whatever they had become, it hadn't dulled their instincts.
One lifted its head, nostrils flaring.
Another tilted its head toward the ridge.
Koda felt the moment of choice settle like a storm.
Fight. Or flee.
The creatures turned.
And the forest held its breath as the first creature lunged forward.
It moved in a blur, all sinew and snapping muscle. Erilan loosed a burst of runes, his control magic hissing through the air like coiled smoke. The beast's limbs faltered just enough.
Koda met it mid-leap.
Blade of Conviction.
The weapon poured into his grip like molten light dulled in soot—dark, heavy, and trembling with purpose. He drove it upward, catching the creature just under the ribs. Its flesh was rubbery, the scales offering sick resistance. He could feel every inch of the blade's progress—grating past cartilage, through thick muscle, until it burst out its back with a wet crack.
The creature let out a shrieking hiss, alien chords vibrating so violently they pierced the bone.
It fell, twitching.
A notification pulsed at the edge of Koda's vision—
[LEVEL UP]
No time to look.
Erilan shouted behind them, "More on the ridge!"
Three. No—five.
They came in staggered bursts, as if the forest itself spat them out. One leapt and met Renn's arrow midair—it pierced its chest but didn't stop it. She rolled sideways, drawing another before the first even landed.
Grent bellowed and charged.
The shield in his hand was a blur of blackened metal, shaped like a jagged jaw. He absorbed the first beast's lunge and crushed its head with the second swing. Bone and scale splintered across the clearing. Another clambered up his back, claws raking through the seam in his armor.
"Down!" Koda shouted.
Grent dropped to one knee—Koda's blade slicing the beast free before it tore out his throat. He stumbled to his feet, grinning through blood.
"We're not dead yet!"
But Erilan was already faltering.
Two of the creatures broke from the flank and hit him in tandem. His staff flared in defense, but one clawed straight through his ribs while the other bit down on his shoulder, fangs buried so deep the magic sputtered out with a sound like snuffed flame.
Renn screamed his name.
Erilan's mouth opened, a final spell on his lips—but only blood came.
Then they were on him, tearing, rending, dragging him behind a heap of roots.
Koda turned, vision blurring with heat, but Grent gripped his shoulder hard.
"Don't. It's too late."
The beasts snarled and scattered again.
Lumia knelt behind a slab of petrified bark, white magic pulsing to her heartbeat between her hands. She flung a shield toward Koda just as another lizard-thing dove for him—his blade met it in a diagonal arc, cleaving the beast across its chest. Not deep enough. It grappled him. They hit the ground hard, rolled in the mud.
Its claws carved red across his ribs.
Koda kicked off a root, twisting.
Blade of Conviction.
The sword flared again, responding to raw need. He drove it up through the creature's jaw and felt its skull shatter around the hilt like soft clay.
The weight of it collapsed against him, twitching.
More were coming.
Grent shouted from the far left—two beasts on him now, his shield arm already hanging limp.
Renn tried to cover him, arrows flying like needles of salvation—but one of the creatures ducked and the other surged forward.
"Grent!" Lumia cried.
Too late.
One claw dug into his thigh, the other into his collar. They toppled him, jaws wide, tearing.
He roared one last time before they pulled him under.
Koda's stomach twisted.
"Pull back!" Renn shouted. "We have to move!"
But the foliage behind them severed their path to safety—half-collapsed by the fighting. No retreat.
Three more came.
Koda, Renn, and Lumia formed a tight triangle.
Koda blocked the first, meeting its leap with a shoulder to its chest. His blade found its spine.
Renn ducked beneath a sweeping tail and fired straight through an exposed throat.
Lumia set off a flash of searing white blinding the third—it stumbled, and Koda finished it with a downward strike that didn't stop until he hit bone.
Everything slowed.
Silence.
Then—
[LEVEL UP]
Not long after, the last beast fell with a wet grunt, and all that remained was breath.
Heavy. Ragged. Streaked with blood.
The camp burned behind them—embers smoldering around shattered stones and torn canvas. The forest didn't move. It watched.
Lumia dropped to her knees beside Grent's body. His face was gone—torn away—but his shield still clutched tight in his fingers even with his arm nearly severed from his body.
Her magic sparked in her palms. She pressed them to his chest—once. Twice. A third time.
But nothing answered.
Koda watched her lips tremble. "It's—" she choked. "It's not fair."
Renn sat against a jagged stump, clutching her side, blood dripping between her fingers. "It never is."
Koda stood, sword still in his hand. His own arm was numb, his ribs a bruised map of pain, his eyes locked on the dark ahead.
And still, the forest didn't move.
The silence was deafening.
⸻
[Koda of the Eternal Guide – Level 8]
HP: 54/120
Mana: 57/120
Stamina: 28/120
Stats:
Strength: 12
Vitality: 12
Agility: 12
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 12
Endurance: 12
Trait:
Balance (Divine) – All stat increases apply equally. Harmony is growth.
Skills:
Blade of Conviction – Active
Summon a weapon forged of pure will. The more clarity and purpose you hold, the stronger the blade. Willpower and Wisdom affect damage.