#but I went to face the elder brain and checked the journal out of curiosity and saw that I never found out the deal with the crown

[atomicbooquet]

not gale being lvl 1 still before I go face the elder brain lmao

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER SEVEN – SPORADIC RAIN

The Bandit Circus quickly scrambled at the command of their leader. She’d seen Wally and Hector move away from the caravan and the ridiculous event that concluded their meeting, her jaw on the floor as Wally sailed through the air. A long steel chain, intended for their performance at Arborledan, was pulled from the lead wagon and brought over to the wall. With some doing, the chain was anchored to the top of the wall and Hector readied himself to climb, however, he wouldn’t be climbing alone.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT OF SUCH A STUPID PLAN!” Shouted Rozzi from her place on Hector’s back.

Sir Hector grumbled something best not spoken aloud to anyone in polite conversation.

“AND OF COURSE WALLY AGREED! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HIS MENTOR! WELL MISTER SENIOR KNIGHT, Y’ FAILED! CONGRATS”

“… We… Were in a rush.” He huffed as he continued to pull both their weights and Wally’s surprisingly heavy bag up the chain.

“A rush? Oh is that it? WELL Y’ SURE AIN’T CLIMBIN’ LIKE YOU’RE INNA RUSH NOW, EH?”

Taking that as a challenge, Sir Hector doubled his efforts.

---

While Hector and Rozzi were making their way up the wall, Wally had settled into a seated position in his thorny cage, undoing the knotted rope around his waist. He certainly wasn’t about to start swinging a sword in a middle of a library, especially one on foreign soil as wars had been started over things like that. Instead he took the time to observe the Planaetian who’d caged him and had been staring at him for quite some time now.

It was thin and very tall, taller than Sir Hector. It moved so smoothly he wondered if it even had bones. Its head was adorned in almost luminescent lilac colored leaves that cascaded to frame its smooth, noseless face. It wore a particularly ornate looking silk robe over its very narrow frame and what he could see of its hide resembled polished wood. Scanning back up to watch its deep purple eyes carefully, it appeared to have no pupils of any kind, which he found slightly unnerving. Even more unnerving was the fact that it said nothing, not a single word or startled sound. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Wally was reminded of his more aimless customers staring hungrily at the myriad of freshly made pastries under his glass display case and winced ever so slightly at the thought of being eaten.

The space occupied by the two of them was abruptly filled with a very low rumble. The Planaetian reared back defensively and the thorns on the cage seemed to grow sharper.

Wally sighed and held his stomach; thinking of his bakery reminded him how hungry he’d been the last few days, apparently a side effect of his first foray into magic. He slowly reached into one of his interior pockets and produced a small wrapped object which was quickly snatched from his hands by quick wooden fingers. He watched as the Planaetian moved back and studied the item in question closely, Wally thought he heard the sound of sniffing before finally it spoke.

“… Is this… Nandi Bread?”

Surprise washed over Wally, he wouldn’t have figured this Planaetian was female, at least, it sounded as if it was. The voice was certainly the right pitch for it to be. “Yes it is, well, almost, I couldn’t find one of the spices so I experimented for a bit before-… ”

“You made this?” she interrupted.

Wally nodded calmly.

Her face contorted at the gesture, as if she’d been told fire was wet. “… How?”

Confusion abounded as Wally explained, “I… Followed the recipe? Mind you, it was still written in Planaetian so that was a lot of cross referencing before I could read it at all. Since it keeps for weeks I thought it’d be perfect to just have some on hand so I took the ones I hadn’t sold-”

“Stop.” She said sternly.

Wally locked his jaw, watching the Planaetian attentively for its next action.

“What you say is impossible. There are no remaining copies of that recipe and no one alive who remembers it. There has been no Nandi Bread made, bought, or sold in Planae for many years.” She turned over the foodstuff in her hand before finally unwrapping it. The now stronger scent of the still fresh but only slightly leavened bread impacted her senses like a metaphysical stone dropped into a metaphorical lake. In an instant she was a child again, sitting on her mother’s lap on a sunny summer’s afternoon. All logic against it faded away as she took a bite. The sweetness of the glaze on the crust and the smooth texture of the interior was everything she remembered it was. When she finally opened her eyes again and saw she was still in the library, she quickly turned to her small prisoner.

“… How…” Her voice was clearly filled with a number of emotions crowding up all at once to be expressed simultaneously, so she took another bite to calm herself. It was true that the last remaining examples of the prized foodstuff had been eaten years ago; in fact she had only tasted a single bite before this moment, the rest of it having been distributed between members of her family. She would never admit out loud that she’d always wished to have had a second bite.

Filling in the blanks himself Wally politely smiled. “I believe the book was called ‘Sage Juniperus’… Well it was translated as ‘journal’ or ‘log’ when I-”

“YOU HAVE A PRINTING OF THE CHRONICLE OF SAGE JUNIPERUS?!” She slapped her free hand over her mouth. Wally wasn’t certain, but she appeared to be blushing.

“I bought it years ago from a traveling merchant. I couldn’t read it at the time, but I did recognize some of the illustrations as ingredients I use… A lot of it was medicinal however.”

She stared at him again, setting the wheels in Wally’s brain spinning. She didn’t believe him, and judging by her reaction to the title, it was a very rare book. He scratched at the back of his ear thoughtfully, was there any real way he could prove he’d only translated eight or so pages and even that was a solid year of study and research with help from his brother, Dale. In fact, thinking back, he gave the book to Dale as a birthday present soon after, knowing it wasn’t so much the content as the puzzle of learning a new language that interested him.

The Planaetian interrupted his thinking with a question. “There is a quotation at the very beginning, do you know it?”

His brow furrowed, as if somehow contorting his face improved the powers of his brain. At the very least it distracted him from how hungry he was long enough to remember a smattering of translated words. “It was something about ‘roots’ and ‘finding soil’… I remember it was a metaphor about life.”

“Roots take whatever path needed to find soil, no matter how arduous.” Her tone was almost wistful. “I cannot believe there’s still a copy in the world! I’d thought them all destroyed in the War.”

“Well the one I bought seemed rather complete, if a bit well used. My brother has it now so I can assure you it’s well taken care of.” Wally carefully checked his other pockets, sighing as he realized that she was holding the last of his private food supply. While he was relatively silent about his complaint, his stomach was an uproarious lout, demanding the attention of whoever was in charge of his establishment to complain about the service.

She moved closer and tilted her head in a pure gesture of curiosity. “What is that noise you keep making? It is not threatening if that is what you are trying to do. Also counter intuitive! Why answer my questions intelligently and politely if you were going to turn around and threaten me regardless?”

“It’s-”

“Then, logically, it could not be a threat,” she continued, completely ignoring Wally. “You do not seem to be the kind to levy threats, even if you are carrying a sword. And an ornate one at that, very large crossguard with a bright round red gem, if I did not know any better I would say that was the Stellar Flare, but if that was the case then you would… Be…” She went rigid before quickly lowering her profile and moving around behind Wally, eyes wide as two full moons, staring at the sheathed Flare. She snapped back to her standing height and rushed off, leaving Wally alone in his cage for a moment. She returned quickly with a large old book in her off hand, taking another bite of bread from the other. She stood behind him once more, alternating her gaze from page to sword and back again several times before shakily shutting the book.

Wally looked back at her over the shoulder the Flare’s guard didn’t block. “Yes, it is. Because it fell out of the sky and into my kitchen and I’m the only one who can lift it. I’m here to speak to someone named ‘Elder Ygg’, and that noise means I’m hungry and you’re eating the last of my food. That about cover all your questions?”

She nodded slowly.

“Going to let me out of the cage now?”

She shook her head just as slowly. “I… I cannot let you go anywhere, even if you are the Flarebearer. You are a foreign national who entered the city without proper checks.”

Wally turned to face her and crossed his arms. “Bit hard when the doors are closed.”

“They are closed for a very good reason, the city is under se-” She recoiled at a sudden realization. “But perhaps that is why you are here? Planae is in danger!”

“Oh! Well then, now you can let me out so I can help.”

She hesitated. “But… You have broken the law. Several, actually. Yet you carry the Flare, a weapon used for the good of Mondia, so keeping you caged could cause untold havoc. However, the right thing to do is to present you to the proper authorities and have you tried in court. Although doing that might rob you of the time needed to-”

“Ma’am?” Wally politely interjected.

She snapped out of her personal debate.

“If I may solve your problem?” Wally finally stood, carefully taking the branches of his cage in hand and snapping them with ridiculous ease before stepping out.

“… Could you have done that at any time?” she said with a measure of caution and surprise.

“Not any time, no. Just when I thought you could trust me.”

---

At the top of the Arborledan wall, Hector stood hunched over, struggling to catch his breath, while Rozzi gathered up the chain to ready it for their descent. When he did manage to steady his breathing he looked up toward the cityscape before them. In truth, while Hector had escorted dignitaries to and from Arborledan, he’d been forced to remain outside the city on every visit. Now, atop the wall, no one could keep him from taking it all in.

The city was comprised of tall cylindrical buildings made from brick and stone, but mortared entirely with what appeared to be moss, branches, and ivy; a strange mixture of masonry and gardening to be sure. Despite being laid out on a grid within the squared walls, he couldn’t help but imagine the buildings as more of a forest than a city, with many of the buildings bearing large bushy canopies. Sunshine scattered like raindrops through the massive leaves above their heads, the central tree of Arborledan dwarfed everything around it, and its roots created massive hills in the center that no building could be built on. What was missing, however, was a more notable element. In every direction Hector looked, and no matter how hard he listened, the streets of Arborledan were frighteningly empty, and all he could hear was the wind, rustling the leaves around them and whistling through empty alleyways.

It was then his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something in the distance, just entering his field of vision from above. It moved heavily in the breeze, like a large misshapen grey snowflake that was quickly joined by hundreds of identical floating oddities. It wasn’t anything recognizable and he didn’t have the time to study it as one exploded in midair when a brilliant beam of light shot out from the trunk of Arborledan’s great tree. Several other emerald hued shots fired off, erasing more of the strange objects. It seemed however that there was no destroying them all, as some lazily drifted past this defense and down to the city streets. “Rozzi,” Hector said without looking to her. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you see something that looks like an oversized snowflake down there… Don’t go anywhere near it.”

Rozzi, who’d of course noticed the bright flashes earlier, nodded in agreement before anchoring the chain for their decent.

---

As he finished tucking bundled rope under the Flare to keep it in place Wally turned and extended his hand to the Planaetian. “My name is Wally B. Walter, I’m a ba-. I’m a Kni-. Hrm… That’s a bit more complicated, let’s just say I am here to help.”

She took on a very regal stance and bowed her head respectfully. “I am Wistea of the clan Faboi, fifth family of Arborledan.”

Wally resisted the urge to say something he knew was more sarcastic. “… Are you alright with me just calling you ‘Wistea’?”

Wistea nodded. “If you like, but please remember my station as you do so.”

Years of service industry training began to return in an instant, ‘the customer is always right, greet every complaint with a pleasant smile, and even if it sounds like they’re talking down to you; be polite.’ “I’ll certainly try, ma’am,” he said politely. “Now, what’s the trouble?”

“You have no doubt noticed several towns on your way here having been either abandoned or cloistered. The reason is the spores. They rain down across the whole country, countless numbers drifting on the wind.”

“Spores? As in fungus?”

“Correct, and an aggressive one at that. When any Planaetian has made contact with one of these spores, it grows almost instantly to full size. Once that occurs,” she paused momentarily; Wally could see the sadness in her eyes. “The infected Planaetian falls under its sway.”

He quickly erased any images of fuzzy green mold on old bread when the word ‘sway’ hit his ears. “What do you mean ‘under its sway’?”

“Yes, the fungal growths connect to their origin, the being that produced the spores in the first place; a former general of the nation’s defense force, Mycete. One day, he simply turned his back on us all, using his unique gift and skills to lay siege on Arborledan. We sealed the city gates and sent warning to the outlying villages to stay indoors to avoid his spores until such time as General Mycete is dealt with.”

Wally looked around for a moment and noticed the absolute silence in the library, clearly they were the only two inside. But there was no sound of siege, no screaming, and no showing of force of any kind. “Are the infected in a different part of the city?”

Wistea shook her head. “No, the infected cannot function in the light of day, they bury themselves until nightfall. It is then that what is left of the city’s defense force engages them and searches for the general. He has managed to avoid detection by forcing Elder Ygg to defend the city every morning from new spores, draining the magic he could use to find him.”

The wallaby rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Then if I’m ever going to have that audience with Ygg, we have to solve this problem first.”

A loud knock at the library’s large doors startled them both. Silently, they made their way over to the door and listened for any more sounds. Wally pressed his ear to the door and quickly regretted it as more knocking rung his skull like a bell. Shaking it off quickly he barely made out one or two familiar sounds. He looked to Wistea and motioned to the knobs, she nodded and entered what Wally assumed was a defensive stance. Slowly he opened the large heavy doors, peeking through the quickly forming gap before smiling and opening them the rest of the way.

“There, see?” said Sir Hector as the doors opened. “He’s perfectly alright, just like I said he’d be.”

Rozzi struck his side with her forearm, a mess of anger and relief playing across her face as she approached Wally. The wallaby began to say something as she reached out and brought her fist down hard onto the top of his head. “That’s for going through with one of the stupidest plans I ever heard!”

Wally laughed painfully. “I had that coming, yes.”

“Damn right y’did.” Rozzi crossed her arms. “Now get t’ talkin’ ‘bout what’s goin’ on so’s I can get done bein’ mad at you.”

Wistea watched silently as Wally introduced her and explained the situation to his friends. ‘So these are Animani,’ she thought. ‘The books hardly described the variety they come in, or vast differences in height. They certainly seem more polite than described as well, and there is hardly anything I would call an offensive smell. I must remember to update those passages afterward.’

Hector turned to Wistea. “We saw those ‘spores’ Wally mentioned, some of them made it through your defenses.”

“Elder Ygg does his best, but there are more and more spores drifting down every day. As I have no idea what effect they will have on you, please be careful to avoid them.”

“Right…” Hector looked to Wally. “For now, I’d say we meet up with the soldiers here and coordinate with them, see if we can’t get this Mycete to pop out of whatever hole he’s hiding in.”

Wally nodded in agreement, then felt something wrap around his arm. He looked down to see Wistea’s firm wooden fingers wrapped around it.

“I shall be coming as well; Mister Walter is in my custody.”

Every other person in the library’s lobby turned to her and in a chorus of varying tones replied “What?”

“Statute eighteen of foreign national representation, paragraph seven, ‘any and all offenders from foreign nations are to be escorted by their representative to assure no other infractions of the law occur until day of trial.’ I began talks, therefore I am his representative, and thusly he is in my custody until such time as he can be properly tried for his infractions.”

They all stared at the well dressed Planaetian for quite some time before Wally cleared his throat to gather everyone else’s attention. “Well we are knights, Sir Hector. Wouldn’t do for us not to follow the letter of the law, right?”

Hector rolled the question around in his head for a moment or so. “… Yes, I suppose you’re right Wally. Ma’am you do realize that means you’ll be in considerable danger?”

“I am neither helpless nor ignorant; I understand full well what I am doing so I would thank you not to insult me again.” Had she a proper nose, the gesture of turning hers up at him would’ve meant something more. She began walking out, her grip on Wally’s arm unwavering, forcing him to walk alongside her. “I shall lead you to the defense force encampments in the city’s central ring.”

“Oi!” Rozzi shouted quickly closing the gap between them. “What y’think you’re doin’ there bark britches?”

“‘Statute eighteen, paragraph eight. The foreign national must remain within arms length of their representative at all times.’ And I’ll thank you to keep your little commoner colloquialisms to yourself!”

Rozzi was about to unleash an unstoppable tirade before Wally reached over to place his free hand on her shoulder. “If that’s the law, then we just have to respect it ‘til everything’s settled.”

Still frustrated, but calmer, she huffed out the remnants of her anger. “Fine. But I’m comin’ too. Someone’s gotta make sure y’ stay out of trouble. And I already know I can’t count on ‘Sir Taller than he is bright’ over here.”

Hector shook his head, “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

---

Beneath a specially woven canopy that hid their position and shielded them from errant spores, the Planaetian Defense Force was haggard from what seemed to have been endless combat. Medics scrambled from patient to patient, treating wounds, mending limbs, and sharing prayers over the dead. The battlements, made from whatever the central ring of the city could provide, were a patchwork of doors, tables, and the cut up remains of carts and carriages. It was clear from the makeshift barricade’s damage and wounded beyond it that they’d been under violent siege several times.

Wistea parted the canopy and entered first with Wally still in tow, followed by Hector and Rozzi. All of whom were greeted by the business end of many well-worn weapons.

“HOLD!” Shouted one voice before standing out from the crowd of soldiers, to Wally he appeared to be a much more densely built version of Wistea with his lilac leaves pinned behind his head. “Sister, I ordered you to stay at the library and… Why on Mondia do you have a small Animani by the arm?”

Wally took a breath to introduce himself before Wistea interrupted “Brother Millette, this is the Flarebearer. He arrived today with allies in tow, no doubt to aid Arborledan in its greatest time of need! With their help, we should be able to save the city!”

The assembled soldiers looked over all three of the foreign visitors slowly before Millette replied, “Are you sure it’s not the tall one?”

With some quick explanation, some more introductions, and Wally eating all the provisions Hector had on him, the group was ushered over to a table bearing a map of Arborledan. Several locations on the map had been marked off; Millette explaining that those places were already scouted for General Mycete’s location. During the day, scouts would position themselves to observe the nighttime movements of the infected citizens and soldiers in the hopes of predicting their movements and finding the General.

“What are they after?” asked Wally.

“They seek entry into The First Tree. Inside is the temple where Ygg the Elder resides and guards the Wellspring of Planae. Without it, we would perish… His goal has to be control of the Wellspring, as he’d die as well if it was destroyed. Should he gain control of it, we’d be forced to submit to his rule.”

“What could have made a once loyal soldier turn his back on not only his nation but his people?” Hector wondered.

There was a frustrating silence, no doubt that question had been asked countless time since Mycete’s insurrection.

“Maybe…” Wally began. “Cinera told us that one of Kota’s Generals was a Planaetian, right? The Thorned Princess?”

The room grew deathly silent and all Planaetian eyes turned to Wally.

The wallaby cringed both under the weight of their stares and his own mistake. “Oh… Right you didn’t know about… ”

Rozzi sighed and shook her head. “Just… Keep talking Wally.”

“I mean, you read stories like that, yeah? Pretty face changing a person’s loyalty? Giving everything up for love and such. So, maybe, General Mycete’s under the influence of The Thorned Princess because she’s Planaetian.”

There were several scoffs and angry grunts from the gathered soldiers.

Wistea leaned down and spoke directly into Wally’s ear. “The Thorned Princess only resembles a Planaetian, it is a source of great shame that she appears as one of us, but is not born of the Wellspring as we are.”

Wally recoiled at how offensive that must’ve sounded and began to apologize profusely only to have Hector’s voice completely overlap his.

“Regardless of the reasons, he was still one of your generals, so no doubt he’s well aware of your tactics, skills, and battle plans. It seems to me he’s keeping the bulk of your forces pinned here and leading you on meaningless scouting missions all around the city. A good soldier however must be willing to think laterally to overcome an enemy that knows everything about them.” Hector points up. “If the entry into the temple were at the base of the tree or even near it, anyone would’ve found it by now… But above you, in a maze of enormous branches and leaves, he could take his time finding any secret entrance up there while you dealt with ground forces.

Millette gasped. “Of course… Why didn’t we think of that sooner! He’s been playing with us this whole time!” He slammed his fist into the table. “Damn! How are we even going to get up there in time to stop him?”

Hector smiled quite broadly and looked down at Wally.

“… No. No no no. Hector no, we are never doing that again, ever, so put it right out of your mind.”

“Oh come on Wally, we know what we’re doing now!”

“Right because it worked so well the first time!”

“Correction! It worked too well! This time we’re aiming for a much higher target so it’ll be fine!”

Wally desperately turned and sought a dissenting opinion. “Rozzi, you know this is a terrible idea, tell him.”

Rozzi hesitated. “I… Well… We need to check the top of the tree quickly… And it doesn’t look like it’d be that easy to climb…”

Wally grabbed his own ears in frustration. “Not you too! Just an hour ago you said it was the stupidest plan you’d ever heard!”

“… Well for the wall it was. Hector’s right, it’s much higher so it should actually work this time.”

The Planaetians all exchanged confused glances at the argument unfolding, and again when they were tying a rope around Wally’s waist, the wallaby having lost the argument 2 to 1. Those expressions were soon replaced with amazement as, with yet another mighty heave and jump, Wally raced into the sky, and into the thicket of branches above. Hector and Rozzi grabbed up the slack in the rope and waited for Wally to signal with three tugs on the other end. Wistea looked to her brother for a moment before taking up the bit of rope behind Rozzi.

He stepped forward and called out to her, “Wistea?”

“Millette, I know I am not a soldier like you… But I cannot stand by and do nothing any longer. Besides, finding the temple may be difficult without someone to show them what to look for.” She turned to Hector and Rozzi. “So, we wait until he signals and begin to climb?”

“Something like that,” Rozzi muttered as she made sure of her grip.

With three tugs from Wally, Hector replied with two on their end. Suddenly the rope was pulled upwards at ridiculous speed, the three passengers hanging on for all their worth as all of them rose into the air far too quickly. Hector could feel his stomach lurching awkwardly and did his best to hold onto its contents, while Rozzi was actually shouting with excitement the whole way up. Behind them Wistea created noises from her throat she’d never dreamed possible, a fusion of utter amazement and absolute terror.

The reached the high branches in almost no time and there was Wally, rope in hand, pulling them up with seemingly no effort. He reached out when Hector was close enough and grumbled. “No one is throwing me, ever again. Understood?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He took Wally’s hand and proceeded to help everyone else up behind him.

Wistea shook like the enormous leaves that surrounded her in both fear and excitement. All her life she’d read stories of ancient Planae and the first of their kind to walk and speak, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine standing at the cusp of their most sacred temple.

Slowly and carefully, the four of them walked toward the tree’s trunk, moving from branch to branch with some doing. The leaves made for difficult going as a single one easily outsized Wally and Rozzi, and causing outright damage to the tree was forbidden by Wistea. Finally at the trunk, they focused on moving higher hoping the entrance lay at the top of the tree’s trunk if nowhere else. Soon the sun began to set and Wally looked down with a worried glance. “Hector… Do you think one of us should’ve stayed with the Defense Force?”

He shook his head. “Our fight isn’t with the bulk of the army, just its head. We take that off and work our way down.”

“Actually,” Wistea interjected. “If you do defeat Mycete, his spores should dissolve. They are not natural growths you know. That is not how Forest Magic works. One simply shapes their magic to resemble the form and function of an actual plant, and once the caster has exhausted their reserve of magic it vanishes. It is remarkable his creations have lasted this long, really.”

Rozzi suddenly held up a hand to silence the group. She pointed in a direction and they formed up behind her. Through the foliage they spotted their quarry.

General Mycete was as tall as any of the other Planaetians they’d met, but far denser, built more like a rock than a plant. His shoulders and head bore telltale black fungal caps with deep blue spots. The dull grey armor he wore suited his build as it was as thick as him. With a massive two-handed axe, he callously carved his way through plant matter, clearly continuing his search for the First Tree Temple. What was odd, however, was that he was entirely alone.

“Wistea,” Wally whispered. “If we get him to stay in one place long enough and get that axe away from him, do you think you could cage him?”

Wistea thought on it for a moment then nodded.

“So then,” Hector began. “I go and confront him head on, while Rozzi and Wally sneak into a better position and use Rozzi’s chain to yank that axe out of his hand, then Wistea cages him and we deliver the final blow.”

“Wow Hector, that plan actually sounds sane, good on ya’,” Rozzi said sarcastically before setting off.

Wally moved to follow before turning at the last moment. “Are you sure you can handle this Hector? He is a… Rather large fellow…”

He scoffed. “I’ve fought larger, have a little faith in your fellow knight.”

Wally nodded and headed off.

Centering himself, allowing the beating of heart to slow, Sir Hector bounded from branch to branch landing squarely behind the massive General. “MYCETE!” he shouted, drawing his sword. “YOU SHALL MENACE PLANAE NO LONGER!”

Mycete turned slowly, the branch bouncing slightly under his weighty steps. “Eh? What’s that? I think I hear a breeze…” The fungal fiend looked his enemy up and down. “Oh. One of those louse bag Animani then is it? Has my nation sunk so low as to call in such pitiful louts to save it?”

Sir Hector said nothing; this was not a time for words. He lowered his stance and dashed forward, his sword clashing hard against the iron axe’s handle. The speed and power of his strike was enough to stagger the massive mushroom. Mycete snarled before he planted his feet again. He raised the axe high and brought it down with savage force, not cutting into, but splintering a large chunk of the branch below it. Hector dodged to the right, striking the broadside of the axe as he went, forcing one of Mycete’s hands off the handle.

The general pulled back his weapon, hopping backward to put more distance between himself and his opponent. He smoothly slid the axe’s handle in his grip, increasing the reach of his swing as he whipped it horizontally. Hector, just barely ducking under it, sprang forward, ramming his shoulder squarely into Mycete’s chest. But, to the knight’s surprise and dismay, he rebounded like he’d struck a sheet of iron on a trampoline and rolled backward as all his momentum reversed on him.

Mycete laughed as he gripped his axe with both hands again, raising it high over his head to bring it down on Hector. There was a quick sound of a chain clinking and the axe locked in place. “EY?!” He bellowed trying to yank the axe out of whatever it was stuck too. He turned his head and growled at the sight of the sickle and chain tied around his weapon pulling even harder against the resistance.

Wally didn’t budge, not an inch. The other end of the chain firmly gripped with both hands.

All around the general’s feet, thick bamboo shoots quickly emerged. They grew to full height in seconds before bending to form a cylindrical cell around him, crossing above his head to close him off entirely.

Wally yanked as hard as he could, wrenching the axe out of Mycete’s hands, sending it flying off as the chain unwrapped mid-yank. He quickly handed the chain back to Rozzi and rushed down to join Hector’s approach toward the cage with Flare in hand.

Mycete turned slowly, catching sight of Wally as he approached the magical cage. “Aaaah, now it’s making sense. What a surprise. I’d heard the Flarebearer was a little fellow, but you’re positively PUNY!” He laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for pint size? Come and strike me down while you have the chance!”

Wally readied his blade just as Hector did on the opposite side when suddenly; from somewhere deep within him, a doubt emerged. A slim and frightening glimmer of an idea that seated itself quickly in the moment; this was no animal defending its territory or hunting, or some obvious monster out to destroy everything good. This was a person. Up until recently the general was as much a citizen of this nation as any other.

In that moment of hesitation the air seemed to freeze in place, and the moonlight peeking through the leaves became like jagged glass. Horrible, otherworldly sounds filled every ear and from any surface bearing a shadow, dark figures began to yank and claw themselves into existence.

“Oops,” Mycete chortled. “Too Late.”

<[Chapter 06]–[Index]–[Chapter 08]>