Revvyn's eyes opened to a blurry canopy of green and gray. His head felt heavy, like it was weighted down with stones, and his ribs gave a sharp, agonizing throb the moment he tried to shift his weight.
He lay there for a long moment, staring up at the needles of the massive pines, letting his lungs adjust to the damp, earthy morning air. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pulling himself up onto his elbows with a groan.
Then he saw her.
The red-haired girl was a few yards away, her back to him. She had taken off her heavy armored tunic and was just in her brown canvas shorts and a thin white singlet.
She was in the middle of what looked like morning yoga exercises, her body moving like fluid. She stretched her arms down toward her boots, her hamstrings pulling tight, and then slowly reached back up toward the sky, her spine popping in several places.
Revvyn stayed perfectly still. He wasn't a saint, and his eyes naturally drifted downward as she shifted through her routine. She has an average ass, he thought to himself, his mind still half-foggy from sleep. He watched her shift her weight into a deep side-lunge. Actually, no, she definitely has ass though. It's solid.
Suddenly, his view was blocked.
A wall of translucent indigo slid directly in front of his face. Syll sat right on his chest, its melon-sized body wobbling with agitation. Its little black eyes stared directly into his with disapproving glow.
"Heeh... what do you think you're doing, Syll?" Revvyn whispered, his face flushing deep red as he realized he'd been caught staring by his own beast.
Syll chirped, a sharp, scolding sound that vibrated through Revvyn's ribcage. He felt the intent through their bond clearly. Syll was telling him to stop looking and get his head in the game.
"I wasn't looking," Revvyn defended himself, keeping his voice low so the girl wouldn't hear. "I'm not that kind of guy, I was just—"
"You're up." The girl's voice cut him.
She didn't turn around, but her movements stopped.
Revvyn scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake the embarrassment. "It looks like it," he said, pushing Syll off his chest and sitting up properly. Every muscle in his legs felt tight, a reminder of the miles he'd covered the day before.
"You have to leave soon," she said, finally standing up straight and reaching for her gear. "The ward will fade within the hour. Once the mana-shield drops, this place could become a beast party."
Revvyn stood up, his joints popping like dry wood. He stood over to the thick woolen blanket she had let him use, shook the dirt and pine needles off it, and folded it neatly. He picked up his bag and handed the folded blanket to her.
"Thanks," Revvyn said, his voice a little raspy.
She just nodded. Her camp was already completely broken down; the tent was rolled, the fire was buried under fresh dirt, and her weapons were checked. She pulled her top shirt over her head, settling it over her singlet, and strapped her sword belt back around her waist with a sharp clack of the buckle.
Revvyn adjusted his bag, feeling the weight of his cutlass on his hip. He was about to walk away toward the path that led to the moonlit forest.
"Where are you headed?" he asked.
She paused, adjusting the strap of her recurve bow across her chest. She hesitated for a second, her blue eyes scanning the tree line. "I have a goal... But I'll be passing the Whispering Springs."
The Whispering Springs. He remembered from Marilyn book and her serious voice as she warned him about the different sectors of the Outer Woods. The second path is a path of voices, Revvyn. Like sirens. If you hear someone you know calling your name, you keep walking. The Whispering Springs was the gateway to the deeper mana-zones. It was exactly where he needed to go.
"I'm also headed there," Revvyn said.
She didn't look surprised, though she did look slightly annoyed. She was already moving toward the edge of the clearing. "Then let's move. Daylight is burning, and I don't wait for stragglers."
Revvyn started walking, falling into step a few paces behind her. Syll bounced along the ground right beside his boots, looking much more vibrant after its meal of Lunar Berries. They crossed the invisible threshold where the mana-ward ended, and the atmosphere changed instantly. The woods grew darker, the trees more gnarled, and the silence felt heavy and expectant.
As they walked, Revvyn took a moment to pull up his status. He wanted to have a proper look before they hit the Springs.
[Character Status]
Name: Revvyn
Level: 5
Strength: 12
Agility: 16
Constitution: 13
Intelligence: 10
Mana: 50/50
Bond Level: 40%
The (16 )Agility was the most noticeable change. As they climbed a steep, muddy incline, Revvyn found that he didn't need to struggle for grip. His feet found the solid roots and stable stones automatically. His balance was uncanny. He felt lighter, as if the gravity of the forest had less of a hold on him than it did yesterday.
The red-haired girl noticed his pace. She didn't say anything, but she increased her speed, her boots barely making a sound on the leaf litter.
An hour passed in complete silence before she finally spoke.
"Why do you keep your beast out?" she asked. She didn't look back, but her head was tilted slightly, listening to the wet thwack of Syll hitting the ground.
Revvyn looked down at Syll. The slime was currently rolling over a large, mossy rock, leaving a faint, clean trail behind it. Tamer protocol was usually to keep beasts stored in the mark to save mana and keep them from drawing attention.
"I never really noticed," Revvyn admitted. "Maybe it's because I enjoy its company. It's quiet, but it's better than talking to the trees."
She slowed her pace slightly, letting him catch up so she could walk beside him. She watched Syll for a few steps, her brow furrowed. "How do you feel... moving around with a... slime?" she asked. She said the word slime like she was describing a wet rag.
"I feel safe," Revvyn said.
The red-haired girl moved her gaze from the slime up to Revvyn's face.
"You feel safe with a slime," she repeated. Her tone wasn't mocking, but it was entirely flat, as if she were talking to someone who had lost their mind.
"As strange as it sounds, it's true," Revvyn said. He didn't feel the need to explain. She hadn't seen him fuse with Syll. She hadn't felt the way the slime's body had hardened into an indigo shield to stop a bear's claws.
She shook her head slightly, her red ponytail swinging. "You're an odd one. I've known Slimes to be bottom-feeders, but if it makes you safe who am I to oppose that."
"Syll is plenty real," Revvyn muttered.
They walked for hours, the terrain shifting as they climbed higher. The dense, dark pines began to thin, replaced by rocky outcroppings and pale, ghostly birch trees. The sound of running water grew louder, a low, rhythmic pulsing that seemed to vibrate in the ground. They were nearing the edge of the Wild Forest, right where the ridge dropped off into the basin of the Springs.
But as they rounded a sharp bend in the trail, both of them stopped dead.
The path forward was blocked by a massive, ash-gray lion. It was nearly the size of a carriage, its muscles rippling like liquid stone under its fur. Its eyes were a deep, bleeding red, fixed directly on Revvyn with a look of pure, predatory hatred.
But the lion wasn't the weird part.
Sitting on the lion's back, perched on a saddle made of rusted chains and moth-eaten velvet, was a Beast-Man. He was half-human and half-hyena, with patches of mangy, yellowed fur sticking out of his skin in tufts. He wore a ragged, mismatched cape made from dozens of different animal hide and perched on his head was a crooked crown made of sharpened deer antlers and rusted copper wire.
"Stop! Stop right there!" the Beast-Man barked. His voice was a high-pitched, raspy cackle that ended in a wheeze.
Revvyn's hand flew to the hilt of his cutlass. Beside him, the girl stopped, her eyes narrowing at the bizarre sight.
"Who are you?" Revvyn asked, staring at the mangy hyena-man. The guy looked like he had been living in a hole for a decade.
"Who am I?" The man stood up on the lion's back, swaying wildly. He had a manic, twitchy energy, his fingers constantly drumming against his thighs. He bared a mouthful of jagged, yellow teeth in a wide, unsettling grin. "I am the Sovereign of the Scavengers! The Monarch of the Mud! I am Grimjaw, the King of the Wild Forest!"
As he spoke, the bushes on either side of the ridge began to shake violently.
Dozens of small, green figures scrambled out of the underbrush. Goblins. They were scrawny, ugly little creatures, their skin a sickly shade of moss. They were armed with sharpened sticks, heavy stones, and a few rusted kitchen knives. But the weirdest part was that every single one of them had a pathetic strip of red cloth tied around their heads, a uniform to match their "King."
Grimjaw pointed a filthy, clawed finger directly at Revvyn. "You killed my Bone-Spur Bear! That was my best scout! My finest warrior! He was supposed to bring me back a tamer's head for my collection!"
Revvyn blinked, his mind racing. He's the one who sent the bear? He looked at the screaming hyena-man in his trash crown, then looked over at the red-haired girl.
"Is he... is he for real?" Revvyn asked.
She exhaled a long, deeply tired sigh, her hand slowly moving toward her quiver. "The forest is full of idiots. Don't be surprised."
Grimjaw's jagged grin vanished instantly, replaced by a snarl of pure, spittle-flecked rage. "Idiots?! Goblins! Show them the majesty of my kingdom! Kill the boy! Rip the girl's hair out for my new cape! And bring me the bouncy slime!"
The Goblins shrieked, a chaotic wall of high-pitched sound, and began to charge. They rushed forward in a disorganized mob, their bare, dirty feet slapping against the rocky ground.
Revvyn didn't step back. He watched them come, his vision feeling strangely clear.
He had read about Goblins in books, from his memories. They were F-Rank—weak, cowardly, and only dangerous in huge numbers. But to the Revvyn of two days ago, a dozen of them would have beaten him.
Now? He looked at the lead Goblin, who was swinging a rusted cleaver. He could see the way the creature's weight was shifted too far forward. He could see the opening in its guard before it even reached him.
Goblins aren't that strong, Revvyn thought. A strange, cold calm settled over him. He felt the tiny pool of mana in his chest responding to his intent. From my stats, this is going to be easy for me.
He drew his cutlass. The steel rang out sharply, a clear, defiant note that cut through the Goblins' shrieking. Syll chirped beside him, its body expanding and turning a deep violet color, ready to strike.
Revvyn smiled, spinning the blade once in a practiced arc.
"A king, huh?" Revvyn said, his eyes locking onto Grimjaw's manic, red-eyed stare. "Let's see if your crown stays on when I'm done with all your children."