The jungle fell silent once more. The only sounds were the heavy breaths of the group and the rustling of leaves as the Plumacrypt's body crumpled into a lifeless heap. Its once-bright feathers were dulled, stained with dark blood.
Jacob exhaled sharply, the weight of the battle settling over him like a lead blanket. The small green snake coiled around his wrist flicked its tongue before loosening its grip, sensing that the danger had passed.
Slowly, the reality of his own fate sank in. He wasn't going to make it. The thought sent him spiraling, memories surfacing unbidden—the fourth grade. He could see it so clearly: himself and his brother, the conjoined twin no one wanted to play with. The way kids edged away from them on the playground, avoiding them like they were something unnatural.
Halloween. He'd dressed as a clown that year, calling himself Jubilarch, painting on a wide grin in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, if he was funny enough, if he was accommodating enough, people would let him in. His brother refused to take part in the act, scowling from the side of Jacob. It didn't matter how hard Jacob tried; the only company he ever had was his bitter twin, who wanted nothing to do with the world, and the small creatures—butterflies, lizards, birds—that kept him company during recess.
And in the end, that's all his life had been. Isolation. First in childhood, then in the tiny apartment the government had buried them in, out of sight, out of mind. But here—here—they finally had a chance. A place where he could be something, where he could belong, where he could make friends. And now?
Now, because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut, they were going to die.
The creature's guttural roar snapped Jacob back to his daunting reality. Everything felt hopeless, the weight of imminent death pressing down on him as the monster inched closer.
Then—BAM!
A massive wooden spike shot out from the forest, piercing straight into the creature's leg. It howled in pain, its luminous form shuddering. The other beasts hesitated, their gazes darting toward the source of the unexpected attack. For a brief moment, they seemed to waver, then suddenly, in a frenzy, they charged toward the direction the projectile had come from.
Lyle seized the opportunity.
"Now! Attack!"
His voice cut through the tension like a blade, and in that instant, the crushing pressure on Jacob's shoulders lifted. It was the perfect distraction.
Without hesitation, Connor, standing right beside Jacob, sprang into action.
Skill Activation – Metal Spear!
A gleaming spear of metal materialized in Connor's grip, and with precise aim, he hurled it into one of the beasts' legs. It let out a shriek, stumbling as three more spears followed in rapid succession, impaling its writhing form.
The remaining creatures were torn between two threats—should they rush toward the source of the wooden projectile or retaliate against their attackers? Their hesitation proved fatal.
Another figure lunged from the treetops, striking down with lethal precision. Chaos erupted.
Jacob watched as Connor struck with cold efficiency, and something inside him stirred. He, too, held a spear. He stepped forward, determination rising in his chest. This was his moment to finish the job.
Then he hesitated.
He and Connor—they were one.
"Connor, we have to move!" Jacob's voice was strained, uncertain.
Connor shot him a glance, eyes calculating. "We should keep our distance and finish this smartly."
Jacob met his gaze, gripping the spear tightly, almost pleading.
A silent understanding passed between them. Connor sighed and raised his hand, moving in tandem with Jacob. With synchronized movements, they advanced toward the wounded creature.
Jacob felt the basilisk coiled around his wrist stir. A pulse of energy surged through him. His grip tightened on the spear as a strange green glow enveloped the weapon.
Skill Activation: {Emerald Ensnarement}
The basilisk shimmered with an eerie, venomous light, its power flowing into the spear. Without a second thought, Jacob plunged the weapon forward, piercing through the beast's flesh and driving it deep.
The creature let out a final, guttural cry before collapsing.
You have slain Plumacrypt – Level 15.
Jacob's breath came in heavy gasps, his body thrumming with energy.
Beside him, Connor stood frozen, watching in amazement at what had just happened.
The creature, witnessing one of its own fall, charged toward the twins with a ferocious roar. Markus sprang forward, parrying the beast's strike and rendering its attack ineffective. From the left, Lyle released an arrow that whizzed past the twins' heads, embedding itself in the creature's leg. Despite the injury, the beast pressed on, with Markus holding his ground, refusing to yield an inch.
Observing the struggle, Connor focused his thoughts.
Skill Activation: {Metal Spear}
Instantly, a metallic spear materialized and launched toward the beast, tipping the scales in Markus's favor and driving the creature to the ground. Seizing the moment, Ramsey dashed in, fists flying. Though his initial punch missed, he quickly adjusted, landing successive blows on the downed and wounded creature.
Meanwhile, five remaining Plumacrypts assessed the situation. Instead of charging toward the source of the wooden spike, they chose to retreat, attempting to flee from the escalating chaos.
The moment one of the creatures attempted to flee, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air. Something was hurtling toward it at increasing speed. Before it could react, the projectile wrapped around its leg, locking it in place and rendering any escape impossible.
Seizing the opportunity, Finn dashed forward. His blade flashed in a rapid series of slashes, ensuring the creature would not rise again.
Meanwhile, Lyle relentlessly pursued another fleeing beast, loosing arrow after arrow with swift precision. Swoosh. Swoosh. The projectiles struck at its feet, forcing it to stumble. Desperate, the creature made a split-second decision—rather than continue running, it turned back, charging straight at Lyle.
Lyle gritted his teeth, loosing another arrow, but the creature weaved sideways, dodging each shot. It was closing the distance fast—too fast. In mere moments, its gaping maw was inches from his head.
Then—THUNK!
An axe spun through the air, striking the creature square in the skull. It crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Lyle barely had time to process what had happened before returning his focus to the first creature he had been hunting. It was still trying to flee, but it was too late. He loosed another volley of arrows, and soon, a familiar notification rang in his ears:
You have slain Plumacrypt – Level 17.
Only then did Lyle turn toward the direction the axe had flown from.Standing there, half-shadowed by the trees, was a young man with tousled brown hair and twin axes marked with glowing skull sigils resting in his hands. His clothes were woven in leaf-patterned fabric, blending seamlessly with the forest around him—a ghost born of green and steel.
Skill Activation: {Identify}
Rowan Ashford {human} -lvl 18