A scar painted the line on the tree.
Beyond the last muddy furrow of the village fields, the world turned grey. The Blight-Fringed Woods were not a place of green leaves and singing birds. The trees here were petrified nightmares, their bark turned to stone by centuries of Abyssal moisture leaking from the coast. They stood like twisted, agonizing statues, their branches clawing at the ash-choked sky where the sun struggled to push its warmth through the haze.
"This is a mistake," Rhea grunted, adjusting the heavy leather strap of her wood-axe across her shoulder. Her boots sank into the green-grey and blue moss that carpeted the forest floor. It squelched, releasing a scent like old copper and rot.
"We need the Copper-Moss, Rhea," Nnael whispered. He walked half a step behind her, using her broad, muscular frame as a windbreak. He was shivering, not just from the cold, but from the effort of keeping his legs moving.
"Garrow will come back," Nnael continued, his voice raspy. "And when he does, we need coin. The apothecary in Black-Water pays double for moss that grows on Blight-Bark."
Rhea stopped. She turned to look at him. The grey light of the forest made her tan skin look paler, her dark-yellow eyes huge and worried. She looked at his thin frame, the way his tunic hung off his shoulders.
"You can barely walk, Nnael," she hissed, though her hand reached out to steady him, her fingers warm and rough against his arm. "If a wolf comes... I can't protect you and harvest at the same time."
"I'm lucky," Nnael lied, giving her a weak, lopsided smile. "You chop. I'll watch."
Nnael had spent the last two days observing the wind patterns and the migration trails of the local fauna. He knew that the Tier 1 Grey-Skinned Wolves hunted in the lower valley during the midday sun. They were upwind.
Rhea sighed, a sound that rattled deep in her chest. She turned back to the path, her hips swaying with a heavy, powerful rhythm as she forced her way through the underbrush. Nnael watched her. He couldn't help it. The leather breeches she wore were old and tight, straining against the thick, corded muscle of her thighs and the firm, apple-round shape of her ass. Every step she took was a testament to her vitality.
"Stay close," she muttered.
They moved deeper. The air grew heavier. It wasn't just humidity, it was mana density. The blight carried a corrupted form of mana, thick and oily.
<
Nnael activated his Pore-Brreathing.
He felt the drain immediately. There was still no System Interface on his vision, no Kirana's lustful chime that whould show him his stats and vitals. But as the skill activated, ha could feel it now, how his mana decrease or increase, his skin began to prickle. It wasn't the stinging pain of the cottage air, this was like being rubbed with nettles. The pores on his arms opened, drinking in the trace amounts of power floating in the fog. It was disgusting and tasted like old blood.
But it kept him upright.
"There," Nnael pointed.
At the base of a massive, stone-turned oak, a patch of iridescent blue moss glowed faintly in the gloom.
Rhea knelt, her knees sinking into the mud. She pulled a small iron trowel from her belt. As she bent over, the leather bindings across her chest creaked. Her tunic dipped low, revealing the deep, shadowed valley between her breasts, slick with a sheen of exertion sweat despite the chill.
Nnael stood guard. He didn't have a weapon, but just a stick he held.
He closed his eyes, filtering out the sound of Rhea's digging, listening to the woods, hearing the wind rustles the stone leaves. He heard the distant snap of a twig.
Not distant.
Close.
Nnael's eyes snapped open. He didn't panic. Panic was for Extras.
"Rhea," he said, his voice flat and calm. "Stand up. Slowly."
"What?" she asked, looking up, a clump of moss in her hand.
"Don't turn around. Just stand up and grip your axe. Two hands."
Rhea froze. She saw the look in his eyes. It wasn't the look of her sick little brother. It was the look of a man who was reading a map she couldn't see. She obeyed, rising slowly, her muscles coiling like springs.
From the grey mist, a shape emerged.
It was a wolf, but it looked like it had been flayed and rolled in ash. Its skin was grey and hairless, tight against its ribs. Its eyes were burning yellow, leaking a faint, smoky vapor.
"Tier 1, Blight-Beast. It's a Grey-Wolf, Nnael." She whispered low.
"Apparently, Level 5." She added.
It growled a wet rattling sound.
"It's going to lunge," Nnael whispered. "Not at you. At me. I'm the weak link."
"Get behind me," Rhea snarled, stepping in front of him. Her Primal Guard ability flared, her shoulders broadening, her stance widening.
"No," Nnael commanded softly. "It wants you to overcommit. It's feinting left. Swing right, Rhea. Low."
"What?"
"Trust me. Swing right."
The wolf moved. It was a blur of grey muscle. It feinted left, just as Nnael predicted, its jaws snapping at the air to draw a reaction.
"Now!" Nnael commanded.
Rhea didn't think. She reacted to Nnael's voice and pivoted on her heel, her thick thighs driving the motion, and swung the heavy wood-axe in a low, brutal arc to her right.
BRAKK, TCRUNCH.
The blade met bone. The wolf, mid-leap into the space it thought would be empty, slammed chest-first into the steel. The impact shattered its ribcage. It yelped, a high-pitched, broken sound, and collapsed into the mud, twitching.
Black blood pooled around it.
Rhea stood there, chest heaving, staring at the corpse. She looked at her axe, then back at Nnael.
"How..." she breathed, her adrenaline spiking, boobs jiggled slowly, her face flushed a deep aroused crimson. "How did you know?"
"Lucky guess," Nnael said, eyes watching her bouncing tits, God is good, huh? Nnael thought, leaning against a tree to stop his knees from buckling.
He wasn't looking at the wolf. He was looking at the sky.
The grey haze was churning. The clouds were turning a bruised angry purple. The wind had stopped.
"Rhea," Nnael said, the air suddenly tasting of sulfur. "Grab the moss, and the wolf's teeth. We need to move. Now."
"Why? Are there more?"
"Not the wolf," Nnael pointed up. "The sky is bleeding."
A drop of rain hit Nnael's cheek.
It sizzled.
...
...