Chapter 15 - Chapter 12: The Whispering Woods

The royal woods stretched beyond Eldrathia's outer walls—a vast, untamed expanse of ancient pines, twisted oaks, and undergrowth thick with ferns and glowing mushrooms. Alaric ventured there at dawn, drawn by a hum from Elara's seed that pulsed in his pocket like a second heartbeat. The sky was a pale gray, streaked with pink, and the forest floor crunched under his boots, damp with dew and littered with pine needles. "If this is a trap, I'm suing the universe," he grumbled, kicking a pinecone that skittered into a bush. The air carried a faint tang of sulfur—demon territory wasn't far, and the thought made his stomach twist. Great. Nature walks with a side of death.He paused by a stream, its waters glinting silver under the rising sun, ripples dancing where fish darted beneath. The seed's hum grew louder, urging him to test his limits. He focused, vines sprouting—thirty now, their tips glowing faintly with Greenheart energy—and evolved them into whip-like tendrils, each shimmering with a faint emerald sheen. With a flick, he slashed a fallen log, splinters exploding in a cloud of dust as the wood split clean in half. "Not bad for a guy who flunked gym," he said, grinning, twirling a tendril like a lasso. A rustle broke his focus—a demon scout, smaller than the last, its charred skin glistening with sweat, claws dripping black ichor as it emerged from the shadows. "Round two, huh?" he muttered, vines surging like a living tide.The scout charged, claws slashing air. Alaric's vines coiled its legs, yanking it into the stream with a splash that sent water spraying. Ten more lashed its arms, thorns sinking deep into blackened flesh, ichor oozing as it snarled. It snapped a vine in half, sap splattering the rocks, but he grew twenty more, their tips tightening around its neck like a noose. "Choke on that, campfire!" he yelled, ducking as a wild swipe grazed his cloak, tearing a strip of leaf-woven fabric. The scout gurgled, collapsing into the shallows, its body steaming as the water hissed around it. Alaric panted, sap coating his hands, his chest heaving. "This is why I hate nature walks—too much cardio."He knelt by the corpse, fishing through its rags until he found another insignia—metal, etched with a thorned crown and a fang, identical to the last. "They're obsessed with me," he said, frowning as he turned it over in his sticky fingers. "Flattering, but I'd rather they weren't. Send flowers instead." The seed pulsed hotter, a sharp jolt that made him wince, urging him deeper into the woods. He sighed, trudging onward, the trees closing in like silent sentinels. "Fine, but I'm napping after this—or during, if I can swing it."