Elydes
Chapter 325: Into the Woods

Chapter 325 - Into the Woods

Wind rustled the dark canopies. Towering trunks and branches contracted in the falling temperatures, filling the woods with their ominous creakings.

Flynn froze when an owl hooted, expanding his Advanced Mana Sense. Far on his left, a glowing Red signature glided on silent wings, its talons closed on a chubby rodent that was nibbling on a mushroom.

A panicked squeak, followed by a soft crunch.

The woods returned to their eerie quiet.

Sorry, little guy. You can’t let your stomach control you. Flynn said a silent prayer for the dead mouse.

For good or ill, the owl didn’t carry a plate; he wouldn’t have to climb the tree to reach its nest. His hands still bore the scratches from catching a very mean squirrel to steal its bronze tag.

I didn’t even touch his stash of nuts. Such ingrate…

Channeling mana into Heightened Perception, he could crisply hear the flitting wings of moths and insects skittering among the dead leaves. Every sound was a piece of the woods around him.

Flynn retracted Mana Sense to his close surroundings. While useful in the dark, other applicants might notice the skill, especially if he met one of the upperclassmen.

Free plates, my foot.

Even without active skills, each student working as an assistant examiner remained dangerous. He had seen a petite girl bash a team of three on their heads—a single strike each without breaking a sweat.

He wasn’t going to test if there were weaker upperclassmen with his face. His Luck was decent, but not Kai’s kind of good.

So damn cold…

A light crystal poked his ribs beneath his linen and woolen tunics. The glow escaped the buttons of his coat, illuminating the ground ahead, just enough to avoid stepping on a twig.

While Heightened Perception could enhance a sense above the others, the distinction wasn’t perfect yet. It was the curse of a high Perception—everything was more vivid.

His sight got keener as the cold got sharper.

Uh… I think I might hate Winter.

The travelogue of the Hart Province called it the cozy season, a chance to enjoy hot beverages and admire the snow-covered scenery.

All propaganda. Should have guessed that when the booklet came so cheap. Flynn huffed. His fogged breath tickled his nose.

Though the woods sheltered him from the wind, they didn’t stop the drop in temperature brought on by nightfall. Threads of frost already wove on the blades of the tallest weeds. He had stopped feeling his ears an hour ago, but rubbing them would make too much noise.

Those jerks knew about it.

When Raelion’s examiners ordered plain clothes for the testing, he hadn’t anticipated a midnight trek in the woods.

At least, he had worn a comfortable pair of boots to keep his feet warm. Back in the field, more than one patrician had paraded in lustrous silks and sandals—they wouldn’t be having a great time tonight.

“…stay away!”

A yell rose above the murmurs of the woods.

Flynn stilled mid-step, eyes closed and head tilted to pinpoint the noise.

Several voices argued hundreds of meters to his right.

One, two… six of them. Despite not being a team test, people grouped to reach their gates—or more often—to ambush other participants for plates.

Bright lights pierced the underbrush. Flynn looked away not to ruin his night vision. The shouts turned to metal clashing. Three against three—a worst-case scenario.

Damn fools.

If one side didn’t quickly prevail, the noise would attract more opportunists and devolve into a melee free-for-all. No one would care about the number on your plate then. It already happened near the central meadow, and he wasn't eager to participate again.

Flynn skulked in the opposite direction with Phantom Steps; the cost of Shadow mana was reduced in the dark. He dashed on the tree roots to avoid leaving a trail when he had the sudden Hunch to hug a tree.

Not one to question his whims, he leaned on the old oak, his cheek on the coarse trunk just as the air shifted behind him.

The breeze brushed the hairs on his neck.

A shrouded individual had run past him.

That… was quite close.

Flynn listened for a few seconds in case the shade returned, but the guy must have headed for the fight. It was a good reminder that there were other participants skilled at stealth.

Standing back up, he patted the gnarly oak.

Thank you, tree. Maybe consider moisturizing more. Your bark’s a bit rough.

Clashes and screams echoed behind him. The battle had turned into a free melee, as predicted. It would likely grow larger before dying down.

Sometimes being right still sucks…

In case of more invisible runners, he picked a less obvious path on the roots. Before his tenth step, a crystal lantern lit the shrubs ahead.

Really? Those loud idiots…

A single set of strides was fast approaching. From their open lantern and bold pace, they must be an upperclassman.

Thank you, but no.

A gold plate wasn't worth the risk of running into a monster. Flynn strengthened his shroud and sped away from the battle, only slowing when the woods returned to their creaking darkness.

Just reach the gate. Yeah, right.

The Head Shouter was such a bald-faced liar.

He could orient in the dark just fine, and Keen Hunch warned him whenever a beast came near. No, the true issue was people—which really wasn’t surprising. Crossing the wrong individuals meant immediately losing the test and his chance to enroll in Raelion.

Maybe I should have joined a team.

Despite seeing a few forming around the meadow, the risk of backstabbing was too high. Blind gambles were a fool’s hope. He only liked betting when he knew all the players and rules—and how far he could bend them.

It’d be a disaster waiting to happen. How would you even split gold and silver plates?

He had taken a roundabout route to his gate to avoid getting ambushed, but each encounter pushed him further off course. He would have long gotten lost if he hadn’t memorized the entire map, or spent two months adventuring.

The reward for reaching the exit dropped by one point every half an hour.

Three points out, almost four…

Flynn breathed a long puff of vapor to settle his nerves—caution and patience were key, more so because he started in the fifth group.

Not only did he lose the chance of finding easy plates, the eight gates weren’t numbered in order, so the fifth gate bordered the first and seventh. Rushing for the exit was only viable for the first group out; starting twenty-five minutes later, the risk of running into other candidates was too high.

Flynn wasn’t even sure the five bonus points made up for it, but he never expected total fairness. People had to adapt.

This should be far enough.

Getting too close to the outer wall wasn’t good either. The trees grew sparser, and it was an obvious route for anyone who got lost. Just follow the boundary of the hunting ground up to your exit.

Flynn turned his path to the fifth gate. He could still make good time and search for plates on the way there. Beasts often carried one, and he had found another wrapped in a bush of ivy.

Heightening his senses, he sifted the noise. Wind rustled the canopies, the distant rush of a stream, a beetle clicked beneath a fallen log, branches creaked, and a chime…?

What— Oh, fuck.

His Hunch strangled his hopes of stealth. He had been spotted. Mana rushed into his skills, twigs snapping underfoot; his muscles burned and flexed as he changed direction at full Strength.

He kicked off a trunk to leap through the highest branches of a shrub. Wind and leaves whipped his face; the cold no longer a bother. His left boot scraped a root in the landing, the other struck solid ground. He flared his mana to maintain the momentum, ready for another stride—

The chime echoed in front of him.

Shit.

Flynn dug his heels into the soft ground, skidding to a halt at the price of his soles. His hands gripped the steel daggers underneath his coat, gathering Lightning mana to confront the short shadow who barred his path.

Huh?

“Don’t try to escape.” A young voice called. “It’s useless!”

A crystal illuminated a boy with short, dark-green hair. The newcomer pointed a greatsword at him, chest puffed up and back straight to make every centimeter of his modest height count. His fierce posture was somewhat undermined by his round face and chubby cheeks.

A child?

Flynn looked at the kid who didn’t reach his collarbone. He would have never guessed the boy to be fourteen if that wasn't the lowest age to enroll. Relaxing his grip on the daggers, his humor was only slightly chipped when he noticed the little bud was Yellow ★★.

Not an upperclassman, though hardly better.

Just my luck. I had to run into a pocket-sized patrician terror.

“You have good senses.” The boy squared him up with curious eyes. His oversized greatsword never wavered, measuring the same height. “The others didn’t realize they’d been spotted till I bonked their hea— Er... till I knocked them out. If you give me your plate, I won’t harm you. An examiner will come to get you out. And you can try again next year.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The kid clenched his jaw to make the baby fat on his face less apparent. As a result, each word came out stilted and still too high-pitched for the authoritative tone he aimed for.

Should I call him Young Master, or Sir Chubby?

Flynn bit his tongue not to chuckle. The feat became notably easier when his gaze fell on the collection of bronze, silver and gold plates clinking on the kid’s belt.

Unable to avoid a quiet gulp, he forced his attention to stay on his opponent's face.

Forty-four points if he didn’t miscount. More than he needed to pass the threshold for Martial—

“Hey!” The boy narrowed his eyes, threateningly waving the slab of steel. “Are you ignoring me?”

“Sorry. You just took me by surprise. I’m in group five.” Flynn showed the number on his silver tag. Even knowing the boy could be a formidable adversary, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anxious. “It'd be useless to you.”

A powerful Mana Sense battered him from head to toes.

“Ugh, not again…” Sir Chubby lowered the greatsword. The proud posture deflated into a sulk. “Why are you even here? And no other plates? This is the path for group four. Are you lost? Your gate is in that direction.”

The boy waved his weapon just a few degrees off from where Flynn remembered his exit.

Sounds reasonable enough.

“I was running and…” Flynn scratched his neck, feigning embarrassment. “Anyway… thanks. You probably wouldn’t have had that problem with your strength.”

He made his tone respectful, hunching his shoulders to look shorter. If Kai was anything to go by, little guys hated to be reminded of their tiny proportions. And poking them often resulted in violent outbursts.

“Uhm… If you’re looking for plates, there was a melee over there.” Flynn vaguely gestured in the direction. “It was a couple minutes ago. But with your speed, you might catch the stragglers. I saw an upperclassman join.”

Sir Chubby snapped to look where he pointed, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Where? I mean, where exactly?”

He’s either very gullible or has a skill to detect lies.

“I… Uhm…” Showing his open palms, Flynn stepped closer to the boy to explain. Hunch warned a sneak attack would harm both of them, not that he would hit a kid, even a patrician one.

“It was about… that way.” He pointed, still vaguely.

Sir Chubby squinted at the underbrush, brows furrowed. “How far do you mean? Did you see any landmarks?”

“I… I think I passed a stream.” Flynn crouched to look from his same height. “It should be past that silver pine. Follow the slope down and you can’t miss it.”

The shorter boy bobbed his head. “Thanks.” He brushed past him to follow the directions, crossing ten meters in two strides before abruptly stopping. “Wait…”

“Huh?” He innocently looked up, cold sweat drenching his back.

“Here. Father said I should always repay my debts.” The boy threw him a bronze plate and disappeared into the woods.

Flynn watched the tag fly in an arc, bounce off his chest, and fall among the frozen weeds.

What a polite young man.

He bent to pick the bronze piece up, holding a gold plate and two silver in his other palm. Fourteen points altogether—quite the fruitful haul. If he took more, the missing weight would have been too noticeable.

A little guilt prickled him for pickpocketing such a nice kid, but then again, gathering plates was the goal of this test. The boy would have more than enough to enroll, at most getting fewer Credits of Merit.

I’ll buy him an ice cream next time I see him.

Flynn stored the tags and dashed into the woods, eager to make some distance. Who knew when Sir Chubby would realize he had been robbed and come back with a vengeance?

So many participants were eager to fight. No one seemed to get that there were no rewards for winning battles; only getting the plates to your gate mattered.

I should have enough.

Swallowing the tags had been the right choice to avoid getting robbed. With the four he already collected, he reached twenty-two points. The Head Shouter never said they couldn’t carry the plates in their stomach.

Flynn patted his tummy. Metal wasn’t one of his favorite snacks by far, but one had to use the means they had.

Hopefully, they won’t be too annoying about it…

His cloak of Shadow should last till the fifth gate. The night was too dark to refill his mana reserves quickly. Shadows thrived at the edge of Light; otherwise, it was just plain Darkness.

Sneaking through the underbrush, Flynn spotted few participants on his way to the fifth gate. Perhaps the melee attracted those nearby, or there were fewer people on the outer edge of the woods. He must make it out in the first wave before the desperate fighting began.

It went— No, I’m not gonna jinx this. Something terrible is definitely going to happen. I’ll lose my plates, get disfigured or just die. Spirits be my witness, I have no hopes. Uh— Is that…

Expanding his senses, he confirmed his Hunch. A snake was hibernating in a burrow beneath the ground he had just crossed, an orange beast cradling a plate between its coils—silver, or maybe even gold.

Nope! I’m not gonna stop.

A tag wasn’t worth delaying. He must not be greedy. The snake was probably venomous, immune to Lightning Magic and daggers.

Yup, definitely. And how did they even get that tag in there?

Flynn marched on. Nearing the fifth gate, he heightened his senses and slowed his pace. An ambush near the exit was another obvious strategy, albeit slightly hindered by the wandering upperclassmen and the number of gates.

Then, he got another Hunch to take a short detour. It could be a good opportunity for him, it said—as if that wasn’t the line all seasoned scammers used to lure you.

Stop tempting me. I’ve got enough good things tonight.

Flynn shook his head. The Hunch grew more pressing with each step.

Alright. Fine. Just stop pestering me!

Maybe the skill was suggesting an alternative route to avoid an ambush. It would be stupid to ignore that.

This better not be another snake. Or a squirrel. Hmm…

He veered his path according to his Hunch. It only took a minute to spot the soft glow painting shadows among the trees.

Another participant, great.

Well… since he was here, he might as well check out who they are. It was only reasonable. He only heard a single person breathing. Who knows, maybe they had fainted beside a bag of plates?

Only one way to find out.

Drawing on his Shadow mana, Flynn crept closer to take a quick peek—

Guess I got the bag part right…

Plates chimed in the makeshift satchel the girl carried across her shoulders. At least seven of them. She paced between two trees, holding a bloodied spear in one hand and pulling a handful of her braids with the other. Her arm was wrapped in darkened gauze, though the wound didn’t seem to bother her.

Hmm… it would be rude not to say hi.

“Hey.” Flynn stood up from the bush where he was crouching. “A bit chilly tonight, ain’t it?”

“Who—” Rowan spun her spear toward him in one fluid motion, ready to strike. More impressive yet, she managed it without ripping a single strand of her scarlet hair.

The glow of her crystal was enough to light them both. “Oh, it’s you…” Her posture relaxed slightly upon seeing his face, though her hands remained firm on the spear. “Why are you here?”

“Just passing by on my way to the gate.” Flynn shrugged with a glance at the flattened weeds where she had been pacing. “Are you lost by chance?”

“I—” Rowan pressed her lips together. “I’m not lost.”

Uhm… Should I tell her she’s pouting?

“Of course not,” Flynn said. “It must have been a long way to get here. Maybe you just can’t recall the shortest route to your gate? The trees tend to all look the same in the dark.”

“I…” Rowan worked her jaw. “Perhaps I might have forgotten that.”

He slowly nodded. “Reasonable. Happens to everybody.” He gestured past a silver pine. “I’d try going in that direction. About twenty minutes, depending on your pace.”

Rowan looked between him and where he pointed as if internally debating. “Alright. Thank you for the tip.” She took three strides before doubling back to stare at him.

“What? I’ve got something in my teeth? If you keep staring at me, you’ll make me blush.” Flynn struck a heroic pose for her. “I don’t expect a reward. Let’s just call it even for the intel you gave me.”

Rowan watched him without the hint of a smile. “You’re in the fifth group, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“Be careful. A large team is ambushing people around your gate. I counted twenty of them. The guy with the twin swords is especially annoying.” She motioned to her bandaged arm. “It’s where I got this, and why I lost track of the shortestroute to my exit.” Having said her piece, she turned to march away. “Good Luck.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Rowan raised her spear without turning. “You still owe me one.”

“Let’s say half?”

“One,” she said, disappearing into the woods.

Tough bargain… Alright, no point in delaying.

His Hunch had paid off, though he wasn’t very pleased about it. Flynn Heightened his senses and used Phantom Steps to creep among the dead leaves and frozen mud underbrush.

Trees and vegetation quickly grew sparser, widening his view. Hearing wasn’t his only good sense. Moonlight pierced the mantle of clouds, illuminating a massive stone wall. The construction towered above the woods, double the height of the tallest oak.

Yup, they’re all crazy.

Peeking from a leafy shrub, Flynn narrowed his attention to the fifth gate: a dark square opened in the wall, perhaps ten meters across. The black number on top confirmed he found the right exit.

And…shit.

Unfortunately, Rowan hadn’t lied. He soon spotted seven guys hiding around the exit—and there were at least thirteen more.

Dammit.

It was too many bodies and skills to make a run for it—such an obvious and annoying strategy.

Being right is such a curse.

Flynn fell back behind the shrub with a tired huff. This was going to suck—a lot. As things stood, he had to wait till someone else broke the blockade or offered a diversion. That could mean five minutes, or five hours freezing his face in the mud while lying in wait.

The sky thundered above, shedding light on the stone bastion.

No, don’t you dare!

Flynn glared at the clouds. The Hart Province’s travelogue said Nerethi was warded against the snow. A sensible decision. The icy fluff was fun and all, right till you were knee deep and stopped feeling your nose and toes.

Unfortunately, the cheap booklet hadn’t specified if it could still rain.

Praying the Moons for mercy, Flynn removed a rock poking his gut and settled in behind his shrub for a miserable wait.

Please, just no—

While the gods were silent, he caught a silver twinkle in the corner of his vision. Four tiny paws walked over his legs and back, stopping on his shoulders. “Meew.” A pair of violet eyes looked down at him.

“Hello.” Flynn craned his neck to greet the majestic silver cat. “How’re you doing, buddy? Did you come to check up on me?”

Forgive my blasphemous prayers. I swear, I only serve you!

“Meeow.” Hobbes leaned to lick his face—such a merciful master.

“Yes, don’t worry about me. It’s all going according to plan.” Flynn whispered, half covered in leaves and mud. He reached into his coat pocket for a piece of fish jerky—one he’d never dare touch. “Here, buddy. Are you hungry? Sorry, I don’t have more.”

Hobbes smelled the offering and devoured it in two quick bites. “Mroow.” He slumped on his back with a satisfied purr.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll buy you more when we finish here.”

“Mew.”

“Uh, well… I wouldn’t want to impose, but if you’d be so gracious.” Flynn twisted his arm to gesture at the gate. “Could you distract those guys for me? I need to get in there.”

Hobbes gazed at the area where the applicants were camping. “Meow.”

“Of course, I would be lost without you. So would Kai, he’s just too prideful to admit it.”

The silver cat leaned for another lick. “Mroow.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for your signal.”

When the weight of the puffy furrball disappeared from his back, Flynn rolled out of the shrub. He had to get into the agreed position. His fingers hurt from the cold. He crept among mud and weeds toward the left side of the gate, as close as he felt was wise.

His wait wasn’t long.

Lights and shouts rose at the opposite side of the entrance, some panicked and some angry.

Flynn didn’t stop to ponder what Hobbes had done. He leaped out of his hiding place, shrouded in Shadow. His body burned with mana, pushing him into a breakneck sprint.

Sixty meters separated him from the gate.

Fifty…

Forty…

Thirty…

He was almost twenty away when a girl took notice of him, screaming. “Don’t let him pass!”

Too slo—

Flynn was quite proud of his speed, but no one had any regard for his pride tonight.

Several applicants bolted to intercept him—only one close enough to matter. The stocky guy closed the distance in a blur of pale green light.

Under the thundering sky, the young man grinned viciously. He swung down two swords gleaming like starlight. “Caught you, rat!”

Yeah, congrats.

Flynn mirrored the grin, using two fingers to focus his mana. A bolt of Lightning split the night. The force of the spell sent the guy crashing several meters back and made everyone else falter. At Yellow ★★, the man would survive.

Rowan sends her regards.

Flynn jumped into the dark opening of the gate without looking back.