Chapter 51: Hostile Vegetation

“So why are we walking instead of flying again?” Alia whined, swatting at a branch that dared to come too close to her face.

They had landed about a mile from Rosewood and were now trudging through the thick forest that surrounded the village. The trees here were tall and ancient, blocking most of the sunlight and creating a perpetual twilight beneath their canopy.

“I already explained this,” Mara said patiently. “We need to assess the surrounding area for signs of corruption before entering the village.”

“But my feet hurt,” Alia pouted.

“We’ve been walking for ten minutes,” Diana said flatly.

“Yes, and that’s ten minutes too many!”

Grace tuned out the bickering, focusing instead on her surroundings. Something felt… off. Not the bone-deep chill that usually accompanied demons, but a milder discomfort, like wearing damp clothes. She rubbed her arms.

[There’s something wrong here, but it’s not like the demons at Oakridge. It’s different. Subtler.]

“Are you cold?” Petriel asked quietly, appearing at Grace’s side. She still wouldn’t make direct eye contact, but it was progress that she was talking at all.

“Not really,” Grace replied. “Just getting a weird feeling from this place.”

Petriel nodded.

“The forest feels… wrong. Like it’s watching us.”

Ahead of them, Diana stopped suddenly, holding up a hand. Everyone froze.

“What is it?” Mara whispered.

Diana pointed. About twenty yards ahead, the undergrowth was moving. Not swaying in the wind—there was no wind—but actually shifting, bulging upward like something was pushing through from below.

“Everyone, weapons ready,” Mara commanded, her big mace materializing in her hands.

Grace concentrated, feeling the familiar warmth as her rapier formed from the ring on her finger. Beside her, Petriel clutched a simple staff topped with a blue crystal, and Diana brought out her sword. Alia and Zephyr, of course, took a couple of steps back.

The ground burst open. Five humanoid shapes clawed their way up from the soil, moving with jerky, unnatural motions. They looked like people—or had once—but their skin was mottled green and brown, with roots and vines growing through and around their limbs. Where eyes should have been, they had only empty sockets filled with writhing plant matter.

“What are those?” Alia yelped, hiding behind Zephyr.

“Plant zombies, obviously,” Zephyr replied, sounding far too calm about it.

“Corrupted plant-based constructs,” Mara corrected. “I’ve seen something similar before, but never this… advanced.”

Grace squinted at the creatures. Floating above each one were red numbers: 12, 14, 13, 15, 12.

[They’re not very strong, at least.]

The ravenous-looking plant-people shuffled toward them, moving faster than something so awkward-looking should be able to.

“Should we engage?” Zephyr asked, drawing her twin daggers. “They’re not demons. We could leave this to the humans.”

“Yes, they are,” Grace said, surprising herself with her certainty. “There’s demonic corruption in them. I can feel it.”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“What?” Diana frowned. “How can you tell?”

“I just… can,” Grace said lamely. “Trust me.”

Diana looked skeptical but Mara nodded.

“Diana,” she said. “Would you like to take the lead for this one?”

“Huh? Uh… Sure,” she shrugged. “Mara, take Alia and circle right. Zephyr, with me on the left. Grace, you and the shrinking violet stay in the center.”

“I’m not a—” Petriel started to protest, then clamped her mouth shut when Diana glared at her.

“Hey,” Grace said, surprising herself again. “Don’t talk to her like that. Petriel’s a higher level than you are.” She immediately regretted the words. No one else could see levels.

“A higher level of what? Timidity?” Diana snorted.

“Of healing,” Grace recovered quickly. “Mara said she’s one of the best.”

“Which means exactly nothing if she faints at the first sign of trouble.”

“I don’t faint!” Petriel squeaked, then shrank back when everyone looked at her.

“Enough chatter,” Mara interrupted. “They’re getting closer.”

The plant creatures were indeed only a few yards away now, arms outstretched, mouths open in silent screams.

Diana charged first, because of course she did. She cleaved through one creature in a single swing, green ichor spraying from the wound. The creature stumbled but didn’t fall. The severed vines simply reached toward each other and reattached.

“They regenerate!” Diana shouted, backing up.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious!” Grace called back, stabbing at another creature’s legs. The cuts sealed almost instantly.

Mara tried next, crashing her mace onto one’s head and slamming it to the ground. The creature convulsed, its vines withering slightly before growing back even thicker.

“Normal attacks won’t work,” Mara called. “Grace, we need to purify the corruption at its source.”

[Corruption source. Like the corruption cores I saw at Oakridge.]

Grace focused, activating her Aura Sight skill. The world shifted slightly, and she could now see faint blue-purple auras surrounding each creature. At the center of each chest was a small, pulsing dark spot.

“They have corruption cores!” Grace shouted. “In their chests! Like back at the village!”

“How do you know that?” Diana demanded, dodging a swipe from gnarled vine-fingers.

“Just trust me!” Grace parried a blow from the nearest creature, her rapier slicing through vines that immediately began regrowing. “We need to target the cores specifically!”

She considered using Aura Cleanse, but these enemies were too dangerous with their regeneration to stall till she could purify them the safe and kind way.

[I don’t like this outcome, but I… I think the situation calls for it.]

Petriel stepped forward, her earlier shyness seemingly forgotten in the heat of battle. Her staff began to glow with intense blue light.

“I can help with that,” she said, her voice suddenly steady. “Cover me for thirty seconds.”

“You heard her,” Mara said. “Keep them busy!”

Diana rolled her eyes but complied, drawing the attention of two creatures with a series of flashy attacks. Grace used her tiny size to move closer to and away from a few of them, shifting her weight and keeping herself moving.

[Wider stance. Watch both opponents. Don’t telegraph your moves.]

One lunged. Grace sidestepped, thrusting her rapier through what would have been its throat on a normal person. It gargled green fluid but kept coming. The second grabbed for her wings. She ducked, slashing across its midsection. More useless damage.

[Come on, Petriel. Whatever you’re doing, hurry up!]

“Ready!” Petriel called. She raised her staff high, the crystal now blindingly bright. “Everyone, move back!”

Grace disengaged, jumping backward as Petriel slammed her staff into the ground. A wave of blue-white energy erupted up from the ground and then took aim, washing over the plant creatures. Where it touched, the corruption visibly burned away, leaving the vines and roots to crumble into ordinary dirt. The magic specifically targeted their cores, even if it looked so… spread out.

Within seconds, all five creatures had collapsed into harmless piles of vegetation and soil.

“Holy shit,” Diana said, genuinely impressed.

“Language!” Mara chided automatically.

Grace stared at Petriel, who was now leaning on her staff, looking exhausted but satisfied.

“That was amazing!” Grace exclaimed. “How did you do that?”

Petriel blushed furiously.

“It’s a Light Wave. Takes a lot of energy, s-so I can’t do it often.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mara admitted, placing a hand on Petriel’s shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me, darling.”

“So the timid healer has teeth after all,” Diana said, approaching them. “Maybe you’re not dead weight.”

Petriel flinched at Diana’s tone.

“Can you stop being a jerk for five minutes?” Grace snapped. “She just saved us a lot of trouble.”

Diana blinked, clearly surprised by Grace’s outburst.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Stop picking on her just because she’s quiet. Not everyone needs to announce their presence by being the loudest person in the room!”

A tense silence fell over the group.

Diana’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but then, unexpectedly, she huffed and looked away.

“Whatever. We should keep moving. Rosewood isn’t going to save itself.”

Grace let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Maybe she’d gone a bit far, but seriously, Diana was being needlessly infuriating.

“She’s right,” Mara said, breaking the tension. “Let’s continue. But stay alert—there might be more of those things.”

They resumed their trek through the forest, now moving in tighter formation. Petriel fell into step beside Grace, still not making direct eye contact but definitely staying closer than before.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For defending me.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” Grace replied.

“No,” Petriel shook her head. “They wouldn’t. And Diana is… intimidating.”

“She’s just mean, is all. Don’t mind her.”

Petriel smiled faintly.

“You’re stronger than you think, Grace.”

Before Grace could respond, a searing heat bloomed against her chest.

She gasped, clutching at her medallion—the one Celestia had given to her, made by Eternia. It was glowing through her clothing, hot enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to burn.

The world around her blurred, then vanished entirely.

She was somewhere else—a clearing in a similar forest, but darker, more oppressive. In the center stood a figure, female, with wings. An angel. She was on her knees, weeping, as twisted vines and roots crawled up her legs, her torso, reaching for her throat. All around her, the corruption spread outward in a circle, infecting everything it touched.

The vision lasted only seconds before reality snapped back into place. Grace stumbled, nearly falling.

“Grace?” Mara’s concerned voice seemed to come from far away. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Grace blinked. “I’m not sure.”

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