Another Vireloch tore its chest open.
Purple light flooded the clearing again.
My gaze snapped sideways—
The two youngest Brambleharts stood exposed.
Too far.
The last adult Bramblehart moved instantly, vines surging, hooves tearing at the ground as it tried to reach them—
But it wasn't fast enough.
The beam fired.
I let out a quiet sigh.
And moved.
The world seemed to stretch as I crossed the distance. One blink of decision—then everything else was just motion.
The beam screamed past—
Missing.
Trees behind the young ones detonated, wood and bark shredded where they had stood only moments earlier.
When the dust settled, the Vireloch froze.
No bodies.
No blood.
The young Brambleharts were gone.
I'd caught them mid-charge, yanked them free, and set them down beside the injured Bramblehart before the beam could touch them.
The injured Brambleharts stared at me.
Not with fear.
With something I hadn't seen from monsters before.
Gratitude.
And confusion, like they didn't understand why I'd done it.
I turned.
The Vireloch had noticed.
And so had the last adult Bramblehart.
It locked eyes with me.
I could feel its perception—heavy, ancient, weighing me like I was a threat…
…or an answer.
It stepped forward.
Aggressive.
Testing.
I met its gaze and held it—steady, unyielding.
The Bramblehart hesitated.
Then lowered its posture slightly.
Not submission.
A decision.
When it moved again, it was slower.
Cautious.
I shifted my focus back to the Vireloch.
The remaining adult Bramblehart stepped beside me.
Its unease was obvious—but the moment it saw the Vireloch advancing, its posture changed.
Roots dug in.
Eyes sharpened.
Ready.
The Vireloch charged.
No hesitation.
No caution.
They didn't care what I was.
Didn't care what I could do.
The way they fought—
It reminded me too much of the Orrick.
Only forward.
Only violence.
One leapt first, claws flashing.
I sidestepped effortlessly.
Another dropped from above—
I shifted again as its claws slammed into the ground.
From my right—
A beam fired.
I grabbed the Vireloch whose claws were embedded in the earth and threw it into the beam.
The blast ripped through its body.
Flesh burned black.
The beam faded.
The corpse hit the ground—
And purple light flared.
…Even that didn't kill you.
The glow pulsed.
Flesh reformed, stitching itself back together like the world was being rewound.
Another Vireloch lunged—
Too fast for a clean dodge.
But a thorn exploded from the ground and impaled it through the torso.
The recoil hurled it backward into a tree.
It slid down the trunk, a gaping hole in its chest.
Grass beneath it withered.
Leaves blackened.
Purple light pulsed again.
The wound vanished.
I glanced at the Bramblehart.
Nodded once.
Then moved.
The Vireloch that had survived another's beam rushed me.
I drove my fist straight into its torso.
Clean.
Too clean.
My arm punched straight through.
I left it there—
A heartbeat too long.
Something pulled.
Not physically.
Energetically.
My stomach tightened.
It's draining me—
I ripped my fist out as the purple light pulsed.
The hole closed instantly.
Is it stealing energy?
From others?
From nature?
…Vile.
Another came.
I punched its chest again.
This time I withdrew immediately—
But as I did, I felt something hard.
Stone-like.
Different.
I didn't hesitate.
I shoved my hand back in before the light could pulse and grabbed it.
The Vireloch shrieked.
Panic.
Its flesh clung desperately to the object as I pulled.
Thorns erupted beside me—driven by the Bramblehart—piercing the remaining body, severing the flesh that tried to hold on.
I tore it free.
A sharp pulse flashed—
Then dimmed.
In my hand lay a small, jagged purple stone, faintly glowing.
I stared at it.
…So that's what you are.
A beam screamed past my head.
I ducked and surged forward.
The Bramblehart understood now.
The Vireloch whose stone I'd removed collapsed—its body dissolving into the soil like a stain.
No pulse.
No healing.
Just gone.
I struck another.
A punch—
A thorn followed—
And the stone ripped free.
Instantly.
I kept moving.
Punch.
Slash.
Thorn.
Stone.
Punch.
Thorn.
Stone.
The clearing filled with scattered violet glows—little broken hearts ripped from rotten bodies.
And the Vireloch fell one by one—
Until only the leader remained.
Its demeanor had changed.
Gone was the detached satisfaction.
What stood there now was fury.
I stepped toward it—
And stopped.
Its chest opened.
I braced for another beam—
But the light moved past me.
Not at me.
Behind me.
The stones.
Every stone I'd torn from its kin shot through the air.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
They streaked past and slammed into the leader's open chest one after another, vanishing into that pulsing cavity like they belonged there.
My blood ran cold.
I lunged forward—
Too late.
A pulse detonated outward.
The Bramblehart beside me was thrown back, hooves carving trenches as it struggled to stay upright.
I dug in—
Still forced back.
The pressure was different than a beam.
Not heat.
Not impact.
Weight.
Like the air thickened around me, pressing in from every direction.
Each stone that entered increased it.
The Bramblehart was launched again—
Barely grounding itself as vines hardened and roots anchored it in a defensive stance.
The final stone entered.
A cataclysmic surge erupted.
Purple light swallowed the clearing.
Trees bent.
Snapped.
Withered.
The ground cracked in long jagged lines, and for a moment dust and stone hung in the air like the world had forgotten gravity.
When the glow faded—
The forest was split.
On one side, green life still breathed.
On the other, everything felt cold.
Poisoned.
Drained.
Then I saw it.
The Vireloch had changed.
Jagged black stone layered its body, plates bristling outward like broken armor.
Purple energy pulsed violently through the cracks, lightning crawling across its form in short, vicious arcs.
At its chest burned a concentrated violet core—too bright.
Too unstable.
The ground beneath it fractured and lifted, pulled inward toward that core like the world was being fed on.
It was bigger.
But worse—
The pressure.
It pressed into my bones.
Haunting.
I used Sovereign's Sight.
Vireloch Lord — Level 24
I stepped back.
Instinctively.
That's… beyond strong.
I checked my status.
HP: 20 / 60
MP: 22 / 32
For the first time—
I didn't want this fight.
Then I saw them.
The dead Brambleharts.
The injured ones.
The two young ones pressed close, shaking, eyes fixed on the thing that had turned their world into a grave.
And the adult beside me—
It stepped forward.
Alone.
Facing something it couldn't possibly defeat.
For its kin.
My jaw tightened.
If it's weaker than me—and still willing to stand—
If I leave now…
I exhaled slowly.
"Fine," I muttered.
I stepped forward beside it, letting the pressure hit me full on.
"Let's take him down."
"Together."