The sky shifts before I even notice.

Tessa lifts her head from where she's sprawled. Her ears flick as she eyes me. "What's the matter, Nur? You look like you had bad dreams."

"Yeah… not exactly bad," I say, letting myself hover a little higher. "But strange. Keeps happening ever since we stepped into this zone."

Morven tilts his head, hands clasped behind his back in that mock-polite way of his. "Hmmm. Perhaps you're evolving?"

"That'd be great," I mutter, voice dry. "Except I just evolved. Pretty sure the universe isn't handing out double upgrades."

Tessa smirks. "Shame. Could've used an extra overpowered cocoon."

"Funny," I shoot back, "coming from the wolf who nearly faceplanted from bug venom."

Her ears go red. "Low blow, eggy."

"Sorry not sorry," I say, giving my shell a little spin for emphasis. "Well, enough rambling. Let's head into whatever this zone's throwing at us."

Morven inclines his head, voice smooth as ever. "Agreed."

Tessa stretches, cracking her jaws in a wide yawn before padding up beside me. "Ugh, fine. But if it's more bugs, I'm setting the whole forest on fire."

"Yeah," I mutter, drifting forward, "let's not give Velith a reason to strangle you again."

Tessa huffs, but she doesn't argue, and the three of us press deeper into the Fifth Zone's waking light.

We press deeper, deeper still. The routine sets in—fight, eat (well, not me), rest, repeat. Over and over, the grind that keeps us sharp and alive.

Until it doesn't.

At some point, somewhere between aimless turns and half-argued decisions, we drift north. Not in Mother's turf yet, but close enough faintlythe air feels different. And that's when we stumble straight into a mess.

A clearing.

On one side, a cluster of Flora monsters—roots curled, vines bristling, petals sharp like blades. On the other, wolves. Not just any wolves—the spectral kind. The same kind we fought back at Old Vithoth's place.

And right at the front of the Flora side stands a figure. An Alraune, if my senses are right. Her form is elegant, thorns woven into a flowing shape, blossoms shimmering faintly with power. She holds herself like someone used to being listened to.

My spines twitch uneasily. "Uh… is that one of Velith's 'sisters'?"

Tessa's ears flatten, her voice low. "If it is… we just walked into something ugly."

Morven's glassy eyes sweep the stand-off, calm but sharp. "Wrong place. Wrong time."

The Alraune's voice cuts across the clearing, sharp as her thorns. "Don't let your asses guard down! These stupid dogs can phase and rip you apart before you'll even know it, so try your best not to die!"

Tessa's ears flick back, her muzzle wrinkling. "Geez… what a rude, hardass lady." She shoots me a sideways glance, lips quirking into a grin. "Reminds me of someone."

"Ha-ha," I mutter, spines clicking irritably. "Hilarious."

Morven's gaze lingers on the Alraune, his tone calm as ever. "Hard ,words, but practical. She speaks like someone who's buried many who didn't listen."

The clearing is chaos—Floras hurling everything they've got at the spectral wolves. Arcane bursts flare against dim air, thorn-spears rain down, vines whip like lashes. Every shot buys them seconds, just enough to hold the phasing beasts at bay.

Then her gaze snaps to us.

The Alraune sinks into the soil like water down a drain. Before I can even adjust my senses, she bursts back up in front of us—roots unfurling, petals rattling with the force.

Now that she's close, I can see her clearly. Slender, her body a thorn-lined stem that looks delicate but radiates danger. Dark crimson petals bloom across her form like roses dipped in blood, their edges tipped in black. Her hair isnbearsir at all but strands of thorny vines threaded with blossoms, twitching faintly as if alive.

And her eyes—sharp, mischievous, like she's sizing us up for a joke only she knows the punchline to.

"Well," I mutter under my breath, spines rattling. "Guess we've been noticed."

She glares at us with a look that could slice bark clean off a tree. "Who the fuck are you guys," she snaps, voice sharp as her thorns, "and why the hell are a cocoon, a wolf, and… whatever the fuck that is—" her eyes flick over Morven with clear distaste—"working together? Did you just crawl out of that 'circus' thing big sister Velith kept talking about, or what?"

Tessa's ears flatten. "Circus? Excuse me?"

I float a little higher, spines humming with annoyance. "Wow. First words out of your mouth and already with the insults. Charming."

Morven doesn't flinch under her stare, his tone calm and level. "If this is how you welcome unexpected allies, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."

She snaps her fingers, thorny hair twitching. "Ohh, right. You must be the so-called guests Big Sister Velith warned us about." Her tone drips with mock courtesy. "Well, pardon me, but we don't exactly have the luxury to entertain guests right now. So either fuck off—" she jerks a thumb toward the treeline—"or help us kill these mutts."

Tessa's tail bristles, ears pinned back. "Hey! I'm right here, you know! Little respect for a fellow wolf, maybe?"

The Alraune doesn't even blink, eyes still sharp on us. "If you're one of them, you'd better start proving otherwise fast."

I sigh, spines rattling as I hover forward. "Great. Nothing like a warm welcome with a side of murder wolves."

"Alright, fine, miss with the attitude," I say, spines flexing as I float forward. "I guess having more stuff to kill isn't that bad. Right, Morven?"

Morven steps up beside me, his expression unreadable, glassy eyes fixed on the spectral wolves. "Killing is such a crude term," he says evenly. "But yes… eliminating obstacles is rarely a waste of."

Tessa bares her teeth, fire already licking at her claws. "Finally. Thought we were just gonna stand here trading insults while the mutts did the killing for us."

We break into a run, falling in line with the Floras as they keep the spectral wolves pinned with a storm of thorns and bursts of magic. The Alraune matches pace beside me, her vine-hair swaying like it's alive on its own.

"You know what's happening here?" I call over the chaos, spines rattling with every step. "We fought one of them before. Old Vithoth said it's happening everywhere in this territory—he even fought a big one."

She barks a laugh, sharp and bitter. "You met that senile old tree? Figures. Yeah, that sounds about right. We predicted they'd target here next and, lo and behold—" she gestures to the battlefield with a thorn-tipped hand—"I get stuck holding the shitty end of this stick."

"Lucky you," I mutter.

"Lucky me," she shoots back, eyes flashing. "At least you three get to choose to be here. I don't."

Morven lifts his arm without a word, and half a dozen arcane spears shimmer into being around him, their edges glowing violet. With a flick, he sends them screaming upward into the pack of incoming wolves. They phase and flicker to dodge, but two catch the blast full-on, collapsing into snarls of smoke and fur.

Tessa bolts ahead, fire trailing her paws, slamming into the nearest wolf that dives too close. Her jaws snap shut on its neck—it flickers halfway through her bite, but she growls, twisting and forcing it down until the flames burst out around her fangs.

The Alraune whistles low, her thorn-lined hair twitching with surprise. "Damn. That… whatever-the-hell-he-is can shoot, and that mutt isn't half bad either."

I roll my shell sideways to dodgtray spectral swipe and mutter, "Yeah, welcome to the circus."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

One of the Flora soldiers—bark-skinned, face knotted like carved oak—rushes up to the Alraune. "Lady Thalyss," he says, voice rasping like dry wood, "we sighted another horde of spectral wolves coming from the west."

So her name's Thalyss, huh. Figures.

She scoffs, snapping a thorn from her arm and tossing it aside. "Shit. As if we don't already have our hands full with this lot."

I hum low, letting my senses push outward. Pressure echoes scatter through the trees, painting outlines in my head. And—yikes. There they are. About twelve more, moving fast, phasing in and out like stuttering ghosts.

Alright. Guess it's time for me to shine.

I push forward, hovering just off the ground as the others hold their line. My shell hums, spines rattling in anticipation. Lunar energy coils inside me, cold and sharp, like silver light pressing against my core.

I open myself to it. Lunar Ascension.

I focus on the west, where twelve shapes flicker in and out of existence, their phasing turning them into jagged echoes. My spines flare wide, channeling the gathered light into a single point. faintly I release.

A beam of cold silver arcs from me, slicing through the air, straight at the incoming wolves. It burns across their path like a drawn blade of moonlight.

The beam carves across their line—clean, merciless. Most of the wolves catch it, yelps ripping through the air as silver light sears their forms. They don't die, not yet, but the impact forces them out of that flickering ghost-mode. One by one, their bodies snap solid, flesh and fur dragging back into the world.

I can feel the strain buzzing in my spines, but it's worth it.

From the corner of my awareness, Thalyss whistles. "Not bad, bug. I like you." Her lips twist into a grin, sharp as her thorns, before she plunges straight into the soil.

The ground ripples under my senses—roots twisting, dragging life through the dirt. Then, with a violent crack, she erupts upward again, bursting out right beneath the wolves I'd crippled. Vines lash around their legs, thorns ripping in, crimson blossoms flaring like bloodied stars as she pins them down.

Her vines don't just bind—they drag. The wolves snarl, clawing at air, but she reels them in like caught fish.

Then it happens.

Her body splits down the middle, clean from crown to torso, petals peeling back like a grotesque flower. Inside is nothing but a dark, thorn-studded cavity, wet and pulsing. The wolves thrash harder, but her vines shove them into the opening, one after another.

The sound—gods—the sound is wet and tearing.

I hover frozen, spines rattling. Yep. That image is going to be etched into my mind forever.

Tessa gags audibly somewhere behind me. "What the actual fuck."

Even Morven tilts his head, expression unreadable. "Efficient… if unorthodox."

Thalyss tears through wolves like it's nothing—grabbing, dragging, devouring—her thorny vines never slowing. But a handful manage to slip past her frenzy, phasing at just the right moments to dart around her reach.

The Flora line surges forward to meet them, hurling thorns and vines, but it's chaos. My senses flare wide, and I catch sight of one of the wolves barreling straight into a larger shape—a treant. Bark-skinned, limbs like heavy branches, towering above the others. Definitely one of their guardians.

And yet, even with its size, the treant struggles. The wolf flickers in and out, jaws snapping through solid bark, its claws leaving glowing gouges every time it connects. The treant swings, roots lashing, but it's too slow to catch the spectral beast clean.

The treant staggers back, bark cracking under the wolf's claws. I surge closer, spines humming sharp.

"Hold still, big guy," I mutter, focusing my aim.

I fire—arcane spines cutting through the air, streaks of pale light. They slam into the wolf mid-phase, the impact forcing its body solid for just a moment. The treant doesn't waste it—its massive arm swings like a falling trunk, smashing the wolf into the ground hard enough to shake the roots beneath us.

The beast snarls, pinned and thrashing, but I keep firing, each spine sinking deeper until its movements stutter.

The treant lets out a groaning sound, half a word, half a sigh of relief. Its eyes—glowing faint through knots of bark—flick toward me with something like gratitude.

More wolves slip past Thalyss's feeding frenzy, scattering into the Flora line. I break from the treant's side, my spines already humming as I track their erratic movements.

One lunges for a smaller sapling-kin—too fast for its roots to defend—but I spear it midair, arcane spines bursting through its flank. It yelps, body snapping solid just long enough for the sapling to whip its vines around its neck and drag it down.

Another ghost-wolf veers toward Tessa. She's already charging, fire bursting at her paws, but I line up shots to cover her flanks, knocking two wolves out of phase so she can rip through them with burning claws.

Overhead, Morven stands perfectly still, hands raised, purple sigils spinning around him. He hurls a volley of arcane lances into the fray, each one exploding in violet bursts that force more wolves to stay physical.

The Floras behind him rain down thorn projectiles and bursts of elemental mana, tightening the circle. Together, it starts to look less like chaos and more like a noose drawing closed around the remaining wolves.

One by one, the spectral wolves fall. Some get torn apart by vines, others scorched under Tessa's claws, others pierced through by Morven's explosions or locked down by my spines. Every shriek fades a little faster than the last, until the only sounds left are the crackle of fading fire and the slow groans of Flora roots pulling back into the earth.

I scan outward, pressure rippling through the clearing—nothing but stillness now. No flickers, no phasing, no snarls.

Eventually, the last of the wolves collapse—burned, pierced, or torn down by vines. The clearing finally stills, only the heavy breaths of Flora and the fading stink of spectral fur lingering in the air.

Tessa shakes out her shoulders, panting. "Phew. That sucked."

Thalyss turns toward us, her thorny body still seeping sap where she split herself apart. The petals fold shut, vines rethreading through her torso until she looks whole again. She bares a grin, sharp and weary.

"Welcome to my morning."

Tessa groans, dragging a paw down her face. "Ugh… as if the weirdly sexual plant lady isn't bad enough."

I hover closer, spines rattling with a dry hum. "Tess, have we gotten anything but culture shocks since we came here? Honestly, nothing surprises me anymore."

Her ears flick back, and she gives me a look. "That's not a good thing, Nur."

"Didn't say it was," I mutter.

The wolves' bodies begin to flicker, edges unraveling like smoke caught in wind. One by one, they fade into nothing, not even bones left behind.

"Well, there they go," I say, watching the last one vanish. "No spoils of war, no corpses. What are you supposed to do—eat them alive or something?"

Before I can finish, thorny vines curl out of the soil right next to us. Thalyss sprouts up from the ground, her crimson blossoms brushing my shell as she leans in with that sharp grin.

"Nope," she says, voice dripping casual menace. "Even the ones I devoured—gone. Nothing left but mana traces."

Tessa grimaces, ears twitching back. "That's… so much worse."

Thalyss dusts her hands off, petals twitching like she just finished something trivial. "Well, nothing you can do about it. After all, these wolves aren't even real."

"Wait—what do you mean by that?" I ask, my spines clicking nervously.

Tessa flicks her ears, brow furrowed. "Is it because they're all… ghosty?"

Morven steps forward, his voice smooth and precise. "No. It's because they are simply projections. Echoes given form."

Thalyss snaps her fingers, her thorny grin widening. "Bingo. At least one of you has a working brain." Then her gaze slides over, locking onto Morven. "Hey, you. You're a male, right?"

Morven tilts his head, confused. "…Yes?"

"Can I have your seeds?"

"WHAT!?" me, Tessa, and even Morven himself shout at the same time.

Thalyss blinks at our collective outburst, then shrugs, vines twitching in that careless way of hers. "What? At least I'm asking. Most of us don't bother. We Alraunes usually just hunt down humans or monsters by luring them in. If the males we catch have… desirable traits, we keep their seeds."

Tessa's jaw drops. "That's—what the actual—why would you say that out loud?!"

I groan, spines rattling. "Oh my god. Culture shock number eighty-two. Tess, remember what I said earlier? Nothing surprises me anymore. Scratch that. I'm surprised. Again."

Morven, for once, looks completely still, like his brain is buffering. "…I will admit," he says slowly, "that is not the kind of cultivation I expected."

Something stirs beneath the soil, close enough that I can feel the shift through my senses. Roots twist, a pulse of mana blooms, and another figure sprouts up just beside us.

This one is an Alraune as well, but her petals are softer in shape, her posture far more composed. Her eyes immediately narrow at Thalyss. "Thalyss, what did I say about demanding inappropriate things from strangers!?"

Thalyss's grin doesn't even waver. "Ah, isn't it Syralis—"

"Don't you 'Ah' me," Syralis snaps, folding her arms. "You should stop doing that!"

Then, with a long breath through her teeth, Syralis turns toward us. Her expression softens, the blossoms on her form dimming to a calmer hue. She inclines her head politely.

"I apologize for whatever Thalyss caused. She… can be a bit eccentric at times."

Tessa snorts. "A bit? Lady, she just tried to proposition our slime-man over there."

Morven, still stiff, mutters, "Homunculus. Not slime."

"See?" Tessa waves a paw. "Traumatized already."

Syralis sighs and folds her arms, her blossoms drooping a little as if she's used to this routine. "Yes, I apologize for that—really," she says, giving us a nod before turning a sharp look toward her sister. "Thalyss, you apologize too."

Thalyss just smirks, tilting her head. "What? I didn't do anything wrong. At least I asked."

Syralis's petals rustle irritably. "That's not the point. You can't just demand things like that from strangers."

Tessa mutters under her breath, "Pretty sure that's exactly the point…"

Thalyss finally lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes before facing us again. "Fine, fine. Sorry for traumatizing your little circus crew."

I click my spines. "Apology not exactly accepted, but noted."

"Well, at least one of you is polite," I say, giving Syralis a nod.

Tessa flicks her ears back, tail lashing. "Polite? Nur, they're a bunch of perverts!"

Morven clears his throat softly, his tone calm as ever. "If I had to guess, it's not perversion. It is simply a method of survival. Though…" his eyes slide toward Thalyss, "as for Lady Velith, I believe she suffers more from phrasing issues than intent."

Thalyss grins wickedly. "Oh, I like him."

Tessa groans into her paws. "Great. He's enabling them now."

Thalyss flicks her thorny hair back with irritation. "Well, enough of this crap. Now, Syralis—what the hell are you here for?"

Syralis straightens, blossoms glowing faint as she clasps her hands. "Ah, sorry. I came to tell you that Vyrithia and Big Sister Velith are dealing with wolves northwest of her garden."

Thalyss's petals flare wide. "They're attacking that one too!?"

"Yes!" Syralis snaps. "But Big Sister Velith warns us—depending on how much force is split, the main body might follow to either place!"

I hum low, spines clicking. "Well, considering Velith is there, that means—"

THOOM.

The ground shudders as a sound cuts through the clearing. From the treeline, a shape emerges.

A wolf—gaunt, spectral, wrapped in tattered wisps of ghostly fur that flicker like dying embers. Its body is half-transparent, bones and sinew pulsing in and out of existence. The eyes glow with a cold, mournful light, and then—

AWOOOOOOO.

The howl rips through the false sky, heavy and suffocating, pressing into my shell until my spines rattle. I grit my teeth. "Ah, shit. What have we gotten ourselves into, right, Tess—?"

No answer.

"Tessa?"

I whip my senses toward her, and my chest goes tight. She's standing stiff, staring at the apparition. Trembling. Tears run down her muzzle as if the sound ripped them out of her. Her jaw moves, words scraping out in a broken whisper.

"I… I knew it… it's him…"

Her eyes widen, the glow of that spectral wolf burning in their reflection.

"Uncle Wolf."

End of Chapter 67

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