"Alright to Vithoth we go then. Morven do you know anything about Ent? Like—you know—it would help if you know what they look like?"

"They are trees," he says flatly, stepping over a cluster of glowing moss as though it were ordinary grass. "Big ones. Old. Occasionally with eyes."

"That's… not helpful." I drag myself forward, cocoon hovering at knee height. Each root I skim feels like it wants to snag me, like the forest itself is testing how much I'll struggle if pulled down.

Tessa snorts. "So basically we're looking for a tree that looks back."

"Precisely," Morven replies, tone maddeningly calm, as if that solved everything.

The air smells damp and sharp. My senses stretch out—pressure waves bouncing through bark and soil, echoing back to me. The forest isn't still. Roots crawl deeper with every heartbeat.

Velith's aura lingers even here, a weight in the lungs. South feels heavier.

Tessa keeps her claws flexed. "I hate this place."

I almost laugh. "You hated the last one too."

"Yeah, but that one wasn't alive and staring."

I send my psychic sense outward. I didn't really notice it before, but this zone is huge—really huge. I'd bet it's around city size, thirty to thirty-five kilometers in radius maybe. Not that I could ever know for sure; my sense only stretches so far. Five hundred meters at best before it fuzzes out like static.

Still, five hundred meters here is a nightmare's worth of detail. Roots writhing under the ground like eels, branches bending against no wind, critters with too many legs skittering in tunnels between trunks. The forest breathes, and every exhale brushes against my shell.

I tighten my focus forward. Something heavy is pacing. Slow, but not clumsy.

And since I'm pushing my sense out, I hover really slow to preserve mana. My shell drifts like some half-dead balloon caught on strings.

Tessa chuckles behind me. "Hehe… Nur on snail mode."

I don't bother turning. "Enjoy it while it lasts. If I run out of mana, you're carrying me."

"Sure," she says, grinning, claws clicking together. "Princess cocoon, premium ride service."

Morven hums thoughtfully. "A curious image. You dangling from her jaws while she sprints. Practical, though unsightly."

"Shut up," I mutter, but I can't help the small laugh that slips out. The forest presses in, thick and watchful, but at least the noise of them keeps me from sinking too far into my head.

Something brushes against my senses, quick and deliberate. It's coming fast. A figure, weight balanced forward, walking on four.

The ground trembles with each padded step, not heavy like an Ent—more fluid, like a predator used to weaving between roots. My psychic map sketches its outline before my mind even catches up: long arms, hunched back, claws dragging through moss.

Tessa stiffens, heat curling off her fur. "Incoming."

Morven doesn't flinch, only tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if he already knew.

I slow my hover even more, spines humming faintly, and wait for the shape to break through the green wall ahead.

The moment it closes in, I flick a spine loose. It hisses through the underbrush, clipping fur but not sinking deep.

The figure jolts, head snapping toward me—then it steps fully into view.

A wolf.

But not flesh, not fully. Its body is gray, half-shadow, half-smoke, edges fraying like fog pulled by the wind. Its eyes burn pale, not with fire but with something colder, something that doesn't belong in a forest full of sap and breath. Every pawfall leaves no mark, yet I feel the weight of it pounding in the soil.

Tessa's voice cracks low. "That's… not normal."

No kidding. The air around it drops colder, and my senses ripple like they're brushing a spirit, not meat. A wolf, spectral and hungry, staring straight at me.

"Morven, you know anything about that?" My voice is sharper than I intend. The wolf's eyes don't blink, don't waver, just fix on me like I'm prey wrapped in silk.

"Yes, I—I… it's uhh…" Morven's jaw tightens, words snagging, like something inside him recognizes it but won't line up into speech. His face twitches, almost tearing at the seams of calm.

"Hold up there, buddy," I cut in before he spirals. "No need to force yourself. We'll figure it out."

Tessa growls, fire heat already pooling in her chest. The wolf's form shivers, smoke bleeding off its outline as it lowers itself, teeth catching the faint green light.

And then it steps closer.

Then it lunges. A blur of gray smoke and teeth.

Tessa meets it head-on, her own roar ripping the air apart. Heat rolls off her in waves, bronze fur sparking with ember trails. For a heartbeat it looks like they'll collide muzzle to muzzle—then she jukes.

Clever girl. She plants a paw, hops hard to the side, and twists mid-air. Her claws scythe across the wolf's flank.

The strike connects. The spectral hide splits like tearing mist, spilling pale light instead of blood. The wolf staggers, growling low, its form warping as though it can't decide between flesh and phantom.

Tessa lands, hackles raised, a wild grin on her muzzle. "Got you."

The wolf doesn't fall. It turns, eyes burning brighter.

Tessa doesn't hesitate. She leaps again, fire streaming off her claws, jaws wide. She clamps down on the wolf's neck—perfect angle, perfect force—

And then her teeth pass straight through.

Her momentum throws her forward into nothing, like biting smoke.

The wolf's body ripples, reforms, and in the same instant, its head whips around. Phantom jaws snap shut on her shoulder, driving her down into the moss with a guttural snarl.

Tessa yelps, fire sputtering out in sparks, claws digging into the soil as she struggles under the weightless yet crushing force of something that shouldn't even be solid.

I feel the impact echo through my senses—wrong, cold, biting straight through mana and flesh alike.

I fire an arcane spine straight at the wolf's ribs. It whistles through the air—clean shot—and passes right through. No blood, no tears, just smoke disturbed. But the wolf jerks, as if it felt something, a twitch in its form. Not enough to stop it.

The distraction is enough though—its teeth phase out, slipping uselessly through Tessa's shoulder. She kicks hard, twisting free, and leaps back toward us in a flash of embered fur.

"You alright, Tess?" I call, keeping my senses locked on the wolf.

"Yeah," she pants, rolling her shoulder. "It got me. Kinda hurts, but no biggie." She flicks her ears back, eyes narrow and sharp. "But what the hell was that? It just… went through me?"

The wolf lowers itself again, smoke curling off its back like a fire without heat, watching us with that pale, unblinking stare.

Morven, who's been standing a few paces back with that too-still posture of his, suddenly claps his hands together. "Hmmm. HMMMMM—yes! That's it! I remember now!" His voice cracks into a pitch that makes the hairs on my shell bristle. "That is a Spectral Gray Wolf!"

He says it like he's barely holding on to his sanity, eyes wide, face twitching into a smile too big for the moment.

"They are able," he continues, every word clipped and theatrical, "to turn themselves into metaphysical beings—by abandoning flesh, becoming pure mana!"

The wolf snarls low, pale light bleeding from its form as if agreeing with him. My gut knots; that explains why Tessa's teeth and my spine slipped right through.

Tessa huffs. "Pure mana? Seriously? That's cheating."

"Welcome," Morven mutters, still grinning, "to the higher laws of predation."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Still… pure mana, huh." I hover lower, spines quivering. "Wait. That means…"

"Correct." Morven's tone sharpens, the grin twitching at the edge of madness but steadier now. "Original magic would strike them much harder."

"Huh." I glance at the wolf, still circling, its outline flickering like a bad signal. "No wonder it reacted when my arcane spine hit—even though it passed through."

The wolf growls, smoke bleeding off its body, eyes locked on me now instead of Tessa. It knows I'm the one carrying the sting.

Tessa rolls her shoulder, fire licking around her fangs. "Alright then—I'll tango with it. Once it turns all ghosty, you two do your… magic stuff."

"Hold, Tessa." Morven steps forward, too smooth, too calm for someone with cracks still running through his voice. His glassy eyes fix on the wolf. "You are injured. Allow me."

Tessa bares her teeth at him. "I can still fight."

"I know," Morven says, lifting one clawed hand, black chitin sliding over pale skin like armor. "But this creature is not of flesh. It belongs more to me than to you."

The wolf crouches, low and silent, waiting for whichever of us moves first.

"Yeah, sure, Morven," I mutter, shell humming as I hover closer. "Definitely not trying to show off your shiny new evolution."

He glances back at me, that uncanny almost-human face twitching into what might be a smile. "Perish the thought."

Tessa snorts, claws flexing. "If he gets eaten, I'm not helping."

The wolf growls, spectral fur bristling as if it can feel the tension between us. Morven takes another step forward, hands spreading like he's about to embrace it—or tear it apart.

Morven steps forward, calm and deliberate. His legs buckle, reshaping with a sickening crunch. Skin splits, muscle knots, and fur push through. In a blink, the limbs are no longer human at all but the hulking, furred, and hooved legs he once bore as a Fleshling.

The wolf lunges. A blur of gray rage and cold air.

Morven doesn't waver. His left arm writhes, reshaping into something worse. Chitin blooms pale and familiar, plates hardening into the flesh of a Lunar Caterpillar. My flesh.

"Hello?" My voice spikes, sharp and accusing. "That's me—"

He flexes, and arcane spines bristle out, humming with light. In a single motion, he hardens them, weaving the arm into a jagged, spined club.

As the wolf springs, Morven surges forward, hooves tearing into the earth. The ground cracks under the sudden burst, his spined club swinging in a brutal arc aimed straight for its face.

The wolf slips into smoke mid-air, phasing clean through him. For a heartbeat, it looks like he's struck nothing at all.

But then its form shudders. The swing didn't connect, yet the arcane spines left a trail, raw mana still crackling in the air. The wolf's outline flickers, edges tearing as if the energy burned through its metaphysical hide.

It lands on the other side, skidding, shoulders hunched low, eyes brighter than before—but not unscathed.

They break apart, dust and smoke between them. Morven doesn't hesitate—his free hand rises, arcane light gathering in a spiral. The glow sharpens into a spear of raw mana, and with a snap of his arm, he hurls it.

The Arcane Lance screams across the clearing. The wolf jukes hard right, then left, its smoky frame bending unnaturally as the lance carves through empty space and detonates against a tree trunk in a burst of blue sparks.

Tessa leans closer to me, claws itching. "Should we help him, or—"

"Nah." I hover slowly, senses fixed on Morven. "Let him have his moment. He's dying to test what he's got after evolving. I mean, you'd do the same, right?"

Tessa bares her teeth in a grin. "Fair."

Ahead, Morven's grin looks nothing fair at all.

The wolf closes in, weaving through roots, a gray streak of smoke and teeth.

Morven lifts his casting hand, and it warps—skin splitting into green cords, twisting, lengthening into a thick vine that lashes out to coil the wolf mid-stride. For an instant he looks like he has it, but the beast flickers, body phasing through the snare.

That's where it messes up.

The wolf re-solidifies, momentum still carrying it forward. Morven is already moving, hooves tearing the earth, closing the gap in a heartbeat.

He swings his spined club-hand with full force.

The blow lands square, a thunderclap of bone and chitin. Arcane bristles crackle, flaring on impact. The wolf's head jerks sideways, body tearing through smoke and light, a ragged snarl ripped from its throat as it crashes to the mossy ground.

The wolf writhes on the ground, its body flickering between smoke and flesh, eyes dimming as if it's barely holding to consciousness.

"Alright, Morven," I say, hovering closer, spines humming. "I think you showed it. Want me to finish it?"

He exhales slowly, his grin almost human. "Yes. I think I can grasp how much I've improved. Go ahead."

I draw inward, into the pool where my arcane burns cold and sharp. Energy threads into my spines, humming with pressure.

Then I release.

The arcane blast tears from me in a clean shot, straight toward the fading wolf.

The blast slams into its chest. The wolf jerks once, light spilling out in threads—then it dissolves, body unraveling into pale smoke that scatters into the forest air. Gone.

"Welp. Sorry you had to see that, Tess," I murmur, drifting lower. "Being that it's your kind and all."

She swings her head at me, ears flat. "Seriously? Why are you acting like this is the first time we fought my species?"

"Oh." I pause, scratching the thought like an itch. "Right. We've been fighting dire wolves in the Fourth Zone too. My bad, Tessa. Totally forgot about that."

Her glare softens into a dry snort. "You're impossible."

The clearing falls silent again, save for the faint crackle of burnt moss and the low hiss of my spines cooling.

"By the way," I say, turning toward him while still hovering low, "that's a nice evolution you've got there, Morven. You can morph multiple parts now instead of just one at a time."

Morven flexes his grotesque club-arm, spines retracting back into slick chitin, then his vine-hand pulls itself in, reknitting into pale skin. "Indeed. It seems I've grown… efficient."

Tessa eyes him, nose wrinkling. "Efficient, huh? More like creepy."

He bows slightly, as though she paid him a compliment. "Creepy efficiency is still efficiency."

I can't help but snicker. "You're really leaning into the whole uncanny thing, aren't you?"

"Of course," he says, perfectly straight-faced. "It is my charm."

"Speaking of creepy," I say, glancing at the smoke that used to be a wolf, "that thing definitely qualifies."

"Yeah," Tessa mutters, claws raking the dirt, "and the way it smells… It's unpleasant. Reminds me of my family."

"Wait. It smells like what?" I snap, hovering a little higher.

She flicks her ears back. "Yeah, it smells like my family—but it's not them. I mean, who'd attack their family the first thing they see, right? Must be a Fifth Zone thing. My family and I were from here."

"Yeah, that must be it," I say, though my shell hums uneasily. "Smells are weird anyway. That's why you rely on a sixth sense like me."

Tessa huffs, but there's a tired edge in it. The air still carries that cold trace, wolf gone or not.

"Welp, enough talking. Let's continue to Old Vithoth."

"Agreed," Morven says, brushing stray bits of moss from his hoof before it morphs back to a pale, uncanny leg.

So we push southward. The roots get denser, thicker, forcing us to weave between them. The canopy above knits tighter, blotting out what little light had filtered through before. Each step makes the forest feel less like a place to walk and more like something alive swallowing us whole.

It's a stark contrast to Velith's garden—her domain was all grass and flowers, every inch curated and humming with her will. Here, it's raw. The trees crowd each other, bark slick with fungus, the air heavy with damp earth. Branches curl down like claws, and moss drapes everything like old shrouds.

Tessa mutters, "I liked the garden better."

I can't disagree. This feels less like traveling through a forest and more like being digested by one.

Eventually, we stumble into a scene that makes us stop cold.

The ground's torn up, claw marks raked deep into roots and soil. Patches of grass are missing altogether, trampled flat, or burned away. Broken branches hang low, sap still oozing from the wounds. The air feels different here—like the forest itself is holding its breath.

Tessa pads forward, nose twitching. "This was a fight. A big one."

My senses ripple through the clearing—echoes of impact, jagged impressions pressed into the earth. Whatever clashed here wasn't small, and it wasn't careful.

Morven crouches, brushing his fingers across a gouge in the bark. "Recent," he murmurs. "Violent."

I hover lower, spines flexing uneasily. "Yeah. Obvious enough. Question is—what survived it?"

Then a sound drifts from the tree right beside us, deep and slow.

"And that would be me, esteemed guests."

Tessa yelps, fur bristling. "WHAT THE—"

The bark creaks, splitting. Moss slides off in sheets. The whole trunk shudders as roots tear free of the ground, shaking soil loose.

The tree beside us… stands.

It rises, taller and taller, dragging itself upright until its crown brushes the canopy. Bark scarred, moss-draped, eyes glowing faint green-gold from deep sockets. Branches twist into antler-like horns, flowers opening along them as if in greeting.

And just like that, we're staring up at something that isn't forest anymore—it's him.

Morven tilts his head back, eyes narrowing but voice steady. "So… you must be Old Vithoth."

The great figure rumbles, bark groaning like an old door. His glowing eyes lower toward us, slow and deliberate.

"Aye," the ent says, voice like wind through hollow wood. "That'd be me."

The ground vibrates with each word, roots coiling and unknotting around his feet.

Tessa swallows audibly. "He's… huge."

No kidding.

"Velith told me 'bout y'all," the ent drawls, voice rolling like thunder through bark. "That darn sapling sure brought me some peculiar guests." His massive frame creaks as he leans slightly closer, moss spilling like a curtain. "Well now, forgive the unsightly scene. There's been attacks on us lately—and a big one just came at me not too long ago."

His glowing eyes flare brighter, roots flexing into the soil with a sound like grinding stone.

"They don't know who they're messin' with."

Tessa whispers under her breath, "I don't think I wanna know either."

I hover a little higher, shell humming uneasily. This forest wasn't quiet because it was empty—it was quiet because everyone was hiding from him.

Old Vithoth lets out a long groan, like wind dragging through hollow logs. "Aye… it was a rather big one. I'd wager it's the very same beast that's been terrorizin' our saplings these past moons."

He shifts, lowering a branch the size of a fallen tower toward the scarred ground. "Ye can see the paw print it left."

I glance down—huge, pressed deep into the earth, claws gouging channels. Bigger than the spectral wolf we just fought.

"I'd love nothin' more than to wring the life outta that mutt m'self," Vithoth rumbles, his voice dipping with old anger, "but Old Vithoth… can't move like he used to."

The roots at his feet tighten and slacken again, as if to show the truth of his words.

Tessa pads forward, cautious at first, then firmer with each step. She stops at the edge of the deep impression in the soil. The paw print yawns wide, claws dug in like knives through butter.

She lifts her foreleg, then presses her paw down into it.

Her bronze-furred paw looks small, swallowed whole by the print. The tips of her claws don't even reach halfway along the gouges.

"Damn," she mutters, ears flattening. "That thing's… huge."

I drift closer, shell humming low, my senses mapping the depth of that print compared to Tessa's paw. "Yeah… I can feel how much bigger it is than you, Tess."

Hovering right beside her, I add, "Well, that looks like a problem—but nothing we can't handle, right?"

She doesn't answer. Just keeps staring at the gouges in the soil, ears stiff, claws pressed into the dirt like she's frozen there.

"…Tess? Hello? Earth to Tessa."

She jolts, snapping her head up. "Uh—oh. What?"

Her voice is shaky, like I just pulled her out of somewhere far deeper than this forest.

Tessa exhales hard through her nose, forcing a grin as she pulls her paw back from the print. "Yeah… right. Nothing can get through us."

The words sound bold, but I catch the twitch in her tail, the way her ears won't quite stand straight. She wants to believe it—needs to.

I nod slowly, spines flexing around me. "Damn straight."

Old Vithoth rumbles low, a sound halfway between a laugh and a storm rolling.

I want to believe her. But between the spectral wolf earlier, Old Vithoth's talk of something terrorizing saplings, and now this monstrous paw print staring back at us? Yeah. Something's definitely going on again.

And I don't like where this is heading.

End of Chapter 64

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