The team pushed deeper into the forest, the aftermath of the Hollowgrasp still lingering in their

  muscles. The air remained unnaturally dense, but the oppressive weight of the previous battle had faded

  into something quieter, heavier in silence than gravity.

  The beacon on Bash’s map pulsed faintly two klicks ahead. Its signature barely shifted, a static marker

  amidst the haze.

  They walked in silence at first. The only sound was the faint hum of equipment and the occasional

  crunch of damp leaves beneath their boots.

  Calen finally broke it. “Three left. Space, Time, and Reincarnate.”

  “Right,” Rixor grunted.

  Calen nodded, then looked at Bash. “That means you’re guaranteed the last two, yeah? Space and

  Time?”

  Bash didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were fixed ahead, scanning through the fog. “If guarantees

  meant anything,” he muttered, “I’d have unlocked six times by now.”

  Liora glanced back at him, her tone softer. “You’ll unlock.”

  He gave a dry, humorless chuckle.

  No one answered. The silence stretched as they followed the narrowing path. The trees grew closer,

  branches weaving above them until the light thinned into a dusky green.

  The air smelled of wet metal.

  The forest floor dipped, leading them into a shallow basin covered in moss and thick-stemmed plants.

  They looked ordinary, like clusters of broad-leaved shrubs studded with copper-colored buds.

  Taren frowned, scanning the area. “No readings. Nothing moving.”

  “Beacon says it’s here,” Bash replied, glancing at his map. “Maybe buried.”

  A faint rustle cut through the quiet.

  Then Darik shouted. “Shit, something hit me!”

  Bash and Taren both turned instantly. Darik was clutching his shoulder, a jagged thorn embedded deep

  through the armor fatigues. It shimmered faintly, metallic, glistening like iron dipped in sap.

  Taren sprinted toward him, dropping to one knee as she pressed her palm over the wound. A green

  pulse rippled through her glove, sealing the torn plating. “You’re fine. Just stay still.”

  Darik pointed weakly toward a cluster of plants. “That one. It, shot me.”

  Before anyone could question it, ten of the shrubs straightened at once. Vines snapped taut, buds

  splitting open into metallic petals that gleamed like forged steel. Each one hissed, then fired.

  “Cover!” Bash yelled.

  Iron thorns peppered the clearing, tearing bark from trees and sparking off armor. The team scattered,

  finding shelter behind roots and shattered trunks.

  Calen fired an arrow that sliced one of the plants clean in half. It hit the ground and twitched, then, to

  everyone’s shock, the petals began knitting back together.

  “What the...?” Calen muttered.

  Nyra fired twice, her bullets tracing thin streaks of fire through the fog. The shots hit their mark,

  punching holes through another plant. The wound glowed orange for half a heartbeat, then green.

  Taren leaned from cover. “They’re healing each other!”

  And sure enough, several more plants at the edge of the clearing had started glowing with soft

  bioluminescence, their light flowing through the roots into the damaged stalks.

  “Two groups,” Bash said, eyes narrowing. “Attackers and healers.”

  Rixor swore. “Of course they work in pairs.”

  Iron thorns tore through the air again, slamming into the trees shielding them. Each impact hummed

  faintly, the sound of metallic resonance.

  Liora and Darik were already reacting, their mineral essence forming shimmering shields that grew

  from the ground like slabs of solid rock. The first volley hit them square, sparks erupting where thorns

  met stone.

  “Shields up!” Liora called. “We’ve got the front!”

  Taren leaned around her own cover, pistols flashing. “Focus the healers! They’re keeping the others

  alive!”

  Nyra yelled. “Marking target, back left cluster!”

  Her rifle boomed. A burst of fire and poison laced through the haze, exploding into a green-white glow

  that shattered one of the luminous plants outright.

  The others reacted immediately, tendrils from the remaining healers flared brighter, essence streams

  lashing through the soil toward the fallen one.

  “They’re linked!” Taren shouted.

  “Then break the chain!” Bash countered.

  He darted out from behind cover, knives in both hands, spinning low as he threw. Two blades cut

  through the vines connecting the nearest healers. The ground beneath him shuddered as iron thorns

  punched into the dirt where he’d stood a heartbeat before.

  Calen fired again, wind streaking off his arrows as they sliced through the haze. The gale cleared a

  pocket of the battlefield, revealing six of the healer-types in tight formation.

  “Six left!” he called.

  Nyra’s next shot took one through what can best be described as the chest. The plant erupted in a burst

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  of glowing sap, collapsing inward.

  The others began to falter, their light flickering, synchronization breaking.

  “Keep it up!” Bash yelled. “They’re losing coordination!”

  Behind him, Rixor slammed his hammer into the ground. The resulting shockwave rattled the forest

  floor, knocking several Ironbloom Stalkers off balance. He followed with a chain of lightning that

  carved through three at once, the metal in their bodies amplifying the strike until their vines smoked.

  Taren moved from cover to cover, occasionally firing a shot into the nearest Ironbloom to trigger her

  healing resonance. The bullets ricocheted between allies, sealing wounds almost faster than they could

  be inflicted.

  Everywhere Bash looked, the forest glowed, green from the healers, orange from the mineral flashes,

  and blue-white from essence discharges.

  He felt the first pulse when the last of the healing Myriads collapsed.

  T1A Healing.

  He winced but didn’t comment.

  “Five more on the left!” Nyra shouted. “Taking them down!”

  Fire arced through the clearing. The heat caught the remaining stalkers mid-volley, igniting the residue

  of their sap and creating a sudden chain reaction that blew half the grove apart.

  The remaining Ironblooms hissed, retreating toward the denser tree line. Liora stepped forward and

  slammed her sword into the ground. A wall of jagged rock rose ahead of them, blocking the escape.

  “Nowhere to run,” she said flatly.

  The melee line advanced. Rixor, Darik, and Liora charged together, cutting down the trapped

  Ironblooms in rapid succession.

  Bash hung back mid-line, eyes flicking between threats, waiting for the next movement. Every few

  seconds, he felt the faintest tug in his chest, essence ripples, small but steady.

  Healing. Mineral. Healing.

  By the time the final volley stopped, only the faint hum of residual energy remained.

  The clearing was a graveyard of metallic vines and glowing sap. Shattered petals lay like fragments of

  rusted glass.

  Taren crouched beside Darik, checking his shoulder. The thorn wound had closed, but she pulsed one

  more wave of healing energy through him to clear residual toxins. “You’re fine,” she said quietly.

  “Armor took the worst of it.”

  Darik rolled his shoulder, grimacing. “Remind me to start wearing thicker armor.”

  Nyra laughed dryly. “Or stop walking next to spiky plants.”

  That earned a faint smile even from Bash.

  He brought up his wrist display again, the holographic projection lighting his face in the forest gloom.

  Another pulsed faintly two klicks deeper into the woods.

  “Another pack ahead,” he said. “Still in the forest.”

  Calen groaned. “Please tell me it’s not another set of plants.”

  “No idea.” Bash closed the map. “But we’re not done here yet.”

  He sheathed one of his knives and looked toward the others. “Grab the fragments. We move in five.”

  Taren frowned. “You’re not even going to help harvest?”

  “They’re Tier Ones,” Bash said. “Worthless.”

  She didn’t argue. The rest of the team began collecting what remained, the faintly glowing fragments

  that shimmered where the beasts had fallen. The shards were jagged, small, and warm to the touch.

  SC’s voice murmured in Bash’s mind, detached and steady.

  “Essence summary: Seven Healing. Five Mineral.”

  He didn’t reply. Just stared at the ground while the others worked.

  Fifteen minutes later, the team regrouped, cases sealed, packs full.

  Rixor stretched his shoulders with a groan.

  Bash turned his wrist again, calling up the map. Another beacon glowed faintly, sitting near the edge of

  a long silver vein on the terrain overlay.

  “Two klicks east,” he said. “Still in the forest. Pack type.”

  Nyra clicked her rifle’s safety off. “Then we’re walking.”

  They set off through the trees once more.

  The terrain began to shift, the soil becoming metallic, the air buzzing faintly like distant machinery.

  The further they went, the stranger it grew: roots gleamed faintly, coated in mineral dust; streams ran

  pale gray instead of clear, carrying tiny flecks of glittering ore.

  It was as if the whole forest were turning to stone, one breath at a time.

  Bash walked point now, blades drawn, eyes constantly scanning. His expression had hardened into

  something unreadable, neither focus nor frustration, but the quiet precision of someone bracing for

  inevitability.

  The others followed his lead, spreading into formation. They moved as a single, practiced unit, their

  boots crunching over metallic soil that sang faintly under pressure.

  Somewhere ahead, something was humming. Not loud, not even menacing, but rhythmic.

  Bash tightened his grip on his blades. “Contact soon,” he said quietly.

  Rixor cracked his neck, electricity crawling along his hammer’s surface. “Good,” he muttered. “I’m

  finally warmed up.”