Something had been bothering Sorin for the last day and a half. Monsters were as likely to fight each other as to attack a climber. They were territorial and aggressive almost by default, and though the tower cleaned up a lot of the aftermath of such confrontations, they still should have seen some signs as they roamed the Witch Wood. Such a huge variety in the local wildlife should have guaranteed it.
He hadn’t thought much of it at first. It could have been a simple coincidence, but by the time they broke camp and started their second day, he was sure it meant something. It wasn’t hard to come up with a theory, either, but a large part of him hoped he was wrong.
The Witch Wood wasn’t considered dangerous because of some plants or the abundant number of mosquitoes. There were monsters everywhere in the tower, and a stretch of forest on Floor 2 wasn’t likely to have any significant environmental hazards. No, the problem with the Witch Wood was the witches.
According to everything Sorin knew, their ability to enthrall and subjugate other creatures would allow them, at best, temporary control over maybe two or three targets at a time. It was Floor 2, and they weren’t guardians. An E-ranked soulprint would struggle to do much more than that. But since he was constantly dealing with what he’d mentally dubbed ‘red tower bullshittery,’ which was even worse than its blue tower counterpart, Sorin wasn’t counting on the witches being that weak.
“I think we might need to cut this trip short,” he said.
“What? Why?” Rue asked.
“The monsters are too organized,” Odric replied.
Sorin was pleased to see Odric had reached the same conclusion. “Exactly that. We’ve been staying out of the heart of the Witch Wood to avoid tangling with them, but I’m starting to suspect their influence reaches significantly farther than previously documented.”
“It hasn’t been that bad,” Rue said. “And besides, we haven’t really gotten any good soulprints other than that Water Bond.”
“Knowing when to retreat from a bad climb is an important life skill,” Sorin said. “I’d rather you learn it without half your team getting killed first.”
The four of them had stopped to rest after a particularly grueling battle with a pair of suspiciously coordinated river trolls that had tried to drive them into a hive of eye hunter wasps. That behavior was so abnormal that Sorin had been forced to admit the truth to himself. Something was definitely wrong in the Witch Wood, and he hadn’t become the most famous climber of his generation by ignoring his instincts.
“Even if we don’t leave, it wouldn’t hurt to back out a few miles from the center,” Nemari suggested. “Despite the lack of soulprints, it’s not like we haven’t found plenty of other plants to collect. That’s all got to add up to something reasonable.”
“Maybe, though I wouldn’t count on a big sack of danirs once Bradford takes his cut,” Sorin said. “Regardless, this climb isn’t about money—”
“The hell it’s not,” Rue argued. “Anima is great. I love anima. But we lost the ability to buy and sell soulprints on the open market. Now we’re going to be paying a premium to have our own personal shopper, not to mention a hefty commission to the guy running our store front. We need money. We need it more than ever.”
Sorin couldn’t argue with that logic, and more than that, she’d left out just how stressed for time they were. Taking it easy—going slow and safe—wasn’t an option. That left risks and recklessness, which was why they were in the Witch Wood in the first place.
“I still think we should pull back a bit. If the witches really have taken an interest in us, we could end up overwhelmed in a wave of dozens of monsters once they’ve built their numbers up,” Sorin said. “At the very least, we need to relocate more often.”
“That would slow us down considerably,” Nemari pointed out. “Having to scout out new kill boxes, not to mention retreating out of the area every night and coming back in the morning, will cut our productivity in half. At that point, we might as well just leave and go somewhere safer.”
She’d summed up the basic problem with climbing in this corner of Floor 2, and Sorin would have agreed with her except for one thing. “This is the best way to maintain a low profile. If the Hellions don’t know where we are, they’ll have to search everywhere to find us.”
“The fact that there’s no sign of us is a clue in and of itself, though,” Odric said. “Just because we’re out of sight for now doesn’t mean they won’t think to look for us here eventually, and a team of rank 5s or 6s can tear through these monsters a lot faster than we’ve been doing it.”
“All problems we’ll have to find solutions for,” Sorin said. “But if we stay here, we’re going to end up in a fight with the heart witches. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Where should we go?” Nemari asked.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“We’re not ready to challenge the portal guardian yet,” Rue added. “At least, I’m not.”
None of them really were. Sorin was confident in their victory, but with him being down an arm, their front line was somewhat weakened. Only Odric had any sort of defensive soulprint to help him out, and having the healer do that was counterproductive. Chances were the point Sorin needed him on the front line the most would be when someone else needed his help not dying, so those weren’t roles anyone wanted overlapping in a single person.
Maybe if he had some sort of ranged healing soulprint, but it’d still be risky.
The team went around in circles, bringing up points both in favor of staying and leaving the Witch Wood, and none of them could really say what the best option truly was. At the end of the day, they were stuck in a bad spot, and there were no good choices.
“Alright, I’m making the call,” Sorin said, cutting through the argument. No one had said anything new in the last twenty minutes anyway. “We’re going to push back a few miles away from the heart wood and start circling around the outer edge of the area. It shouldn’t take more than two days to work around to the north side, and once we get there, we’ll leave the Witch Wood behind. There are other places we can go to farm anima if we still need more before we challenge the floor guardian.”
* * *
Sorin took first watch that night, sharing it with Odric. Everyone was in a bad mood—though not all for the same reasons—but they’d accepted that he was in charge when they’d decided to come, so even the ones who didn’t agree with Sorin’s caution accepted his decision.
Without any sensory soulprint to help him, there wasn’t a lot Odric could do in the dark, which was precisely why he’d been paired with Sorin. Blind Sense was doing all the heavy lifting. Sorin just needed to avoid staring into the fire and ruining his night vision. If something did show up, it would be his job to distract it while Odric got the girls up and ready to fight.
“Lot of bugs out tonight,” Odric said as he swatted at some sort of thumb-sized wasp that had landed on his arm. It failed to break skin anyway, but even if it had, Odric could have neutralized whatever poison it might have injected him with.
“More than usual, I think. Hard to say. We’re not near any standing water.”
“Could be a mobile hive walking around here,” Odric offered.
Sorin shrugged. “Possible, I suppose. I haven’t seen any sign of one, but it’s not like I’m poking and prodding every corner of the forest.”
He’d know if it got close, assuming it even existed. It was entirely possible they were just experiencing a normal amount of bugs for the area. It was hard to be objective about exactly how many there were when he was swatting them off his skin constantly. It’s no wonder Rue tied her sleeping bag completely closed and threw a cloak over it. She’s got to be suffocating in there, but at least she’s not getting eaten alive.
A good wind spell would have kept the bugs away from their camp, but that was outside their capabilities for the moment. For a lot of reasons, being a low-ranked climber again sucked. Sorin had no choice but to suffer, however, and complaining about it wasn’t going to change anything, so he settled for swatting yet another bug off his cheek.
Despite the constant annoyances, he still found his eyes drooping. It had been a long, exhausting day, but Sorin had more self-discipline than to fall asleep during his watch. Frowning, he shook his head and stood up to walk a lap around their small camp.
It was only then that he noticed Odric’s chin resting on his chest. The big man’s breathing was normal, and he hadn’t fallen over, so he wasn’t entirely asleep yet. That’s an awful big coincidence, though. Are we under attack by something?
Crossing the camp, he placed a hand on Odric’s shoulder and shook him. “Odric! Wake up,” Sorin whispered harshly.
“Huh? Wha—” Almost falling over, Odric suddenly jerked awake. His face twisted into a brief expression of alarm, then his eyes drifted closed again.
“Shit,” Sorin swore. This was definitely some kind of magic.
The worthless money-grubbing Climber’s Union hadn’t had anything like this in their archives. A domain of sleep wasn’t even possible below D-rank, and even then, to affect multiple people in an area required a dedicated build. Either there was an extremely powerful monster nearby, or there were some strong climbers trying to capture them.
Sorin almost hoped it was a monster. That would probably be easier to deal with, but he was starting to worry that he couldn’t withstand the sleep magic either. Despite his heart pounding and his blood rushing through his veins, it was hard to even stay upright.
He didn’t even realize he was down on one knee until it had already happened. Still mentally struggling, he dragged himself back upright and reached for his sword, only to realize he’d left it by the rock he’d been sitting on a few seconds ago.
“Wake up!” he called out, but nobody moved. “We’re being attacked!”
A soft cackle drifted through the trees, and Blind Sense caught the outline of something humanoid shuffling into range. The details were fuzzy, as the unknown threat was at the very edge of how far the soulprint could see, and because it was near impossible to concentrate on anything.
That’s the source, Sorin’s mind whispered. Latching onto that singular thought, he lifted his hand and forced anima through it. It took four or five seconds to create something that he could normally do instantly, but the magic responded. Ice launched itself through the air, right into the figure watching through the trees.
The cackle cut off into a strangled cry, and abruptly, all weariness vanished from Sorin’s mind. He darted forward, more ice forming around him as he closed in on the figure, and surged through the trees. There, sprawled backward into the grass, was a shadowy person, their features indistinguishable in the light, but Blind Sense revealed all as they thrashed around.
A witch! he thought. I have to kill it now. We have to go before more show up.
The witch threw out a hand, releasing a cloud of some sort of powder or spores. Sorin backed up, held his breath, and flung a few more ice blades into her. She was a tough, wiry old monster, though, and despite the blood seeping into the dirt, she was far from finished.
She was also far from alone, but Sorin didn’t find that out until a pair of hagris lurking in the trees overhead leaped down and crashed into him. They weren’t so heavy that they dragged him to the ground, but they were an excellent distraction. Wishing he’d taken the half a second to swerve off to the side during his rush so that he could have grabbed his sword, Sorin conjured up more ice to defend himself with.
That was when a new wave of drowsiness hit him. His concentration shattered, and the ice blades he’d been wielding unraveled into raw anima.
