The grove's edge shimmered with radiant splendor, vibrant colors and golden hues casting an ethereal glow over the gathered villagers. Lush fruits dangled from branches, dewdrops gleaming like jewels in the sunlight. The air thrummed with potent magic, a humming so tangible it seemed to pulse against Robert's skin. For a moment, he held his breath, captivated by the otherworldly sight.
His gaze locked on the central tree, its golden fruit glowing like miniature suns, each one a beacon of Albion's promise. "This," he murmured, voice hushed with awe, "is what Albion could offer, what it should offer."
Stepping forward, he brushed a low branch with tentative fingers, half-expecting the vision to dissolve. The villagers, usually stoic, stood rapt. Some whispered thanks to the heavens, others stared with breath caught in their throats. Even Moira, ever quick with a playful quip, held her silence, until her voice finally slipped into his mind.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered, reverence threading her tone. "This is Albion's blessing, a glimpse of what the world could be again."
Robert nodded, though his eyes lingered on the central tree. "And the golden fruit?" he asked, curiosity tugging at him.
"Patience, vessel," Moira cautioned. "That tree holds secrets not meant to be disturbed lightly. Even Albion respected its golden harvest."
Before he could press further, a voice sliced through the stillness.
"This is madness," Langston hissed, contempt dripping from every syllable. He lingered at the grove's edge, eyes raking the scene with revulsion. "You call this a miracle? It's a time bomb!"
Robert frowned, his calm fracturing. "Langston, we've been through this. Magic isn't evil."
"A weapon!" Langston snapped, voice rising. "You toy with forces you can't control! This grove, this monstrosity, will end in ruin. You're tempting fate!"
Unease rippled through the villagers, their gazes darting between the two men. Robert stifled the anger simmering in his chest. "Langston," he said, voice taut, "if you're here to stir panic, you should leave."
Langston opened his mouth to retort, but the ground erupted beneath their feet.
A low vibration rattled the earth, swelling into a deafening roar as soil split apart. A massive, segmented beast burst through the crack, its chitinous shell glistening with a noxious sheen. Each segment rippled as it rose, towering over the grove. Its eyeless head revealed a gaping maw ringed with jagged teeth, mandibles clicking as it sniffed the air with ravenous intent.
Screams shattered the moment. Villagers scrambled toward the new cottages, doors slamming behind them. Some clutched makeshift weapons—pitchforks, wooden poles, anything at hand—while others tugged frightened children inside. Their voices trembled with fear, though a few faces burned with resolve.
The beast slithered toward the central tree, its movements shaking the ground. Around the grove, the magic reacted; motes of golden light flickered erratically, and the wildflowers at the edges wilted under the creature's corruptive aura, their petals curling inward as if in pain.
Langston's voice cut through the chaos. "This is exactly what I warned about!" He jabbed a finger at the towering creature. "Uncontrolled magic draws uncontrollable chaos!"
The beast paused, its head swinging toward Langston's voice, maw widening in a wet, throaty growl.
Langston paled, stumbling back. "Oh no."
His satchel spilled onto the grass, papers and tools clattering free. A jagged, rune-carved stone slid across the ground, glowing faintly by Robert's feet. He scooped it up, the surface cold against his palm, its energy pulsing with a dark, unfamiliar weight.
"Langston!" Robert yelled, holding the rune aloft. "What's this doing in your bag?"
Still on the ground, Langston glared, his face a mix of fear and fury. "You idiot! That rune stands between this world and total chaos! Give it back!"
"Not a chance," Robert snarled, stuffing the rune into his coat. He pivoted to face the creature, mana burning through his veins. From shuttered windows, the villagers watched, their hopes and fears pressing in on him. He stood alone against the monster.
"Moira," he muttered, "I'll need your help."
Her response was tense. "You'll have it, vessel. Let's show this beast Albion's strength."
Grounding his feet, Robert confronted the beast as it reared upward, its massive form shimmering with sickly light, mandibles clicking in rhythmic menace. His heart hammered against his ribs, the ground vibrating with each of the creature's movements.
"Moira," he hissed, "what spells do I have?"
She answered with rapid precision. "Elemental Imbument: infuse elements into objects or spells. Flame Veil: a defensive ring of fire. Downpour: targeted rain to disrupt enemies. Earth Barrier: a protective stone wall. Air Deflection: redirect attacks with gusts. Healing Light: gradual restoration. Pain Suppression: dull pain temporarily."
He nodded, adrenaline surging. The creature advanced, its segmented body rippling toward him. Taking a quick breath, he decided on defense first. Extending his arms, he summoned Earth Barrier. A slab of jagged rock sprang up before him, intercepting the monster.
It slammed against the wall with a wet, heavy thud, teeth scraping stone. The barrier held, but cracks spiderwebbed across its surface with each strike.
From the corner of his eye, Robert saw two villagers—Old Garrick and a young woman—trying to distract the grub. They banged pots and brandished pitchforks, shouting curses to draw the beast away. Their bravery was desperate and short-lived.
The creature snapped its attention toward them, letting out a vicious hiss.
"Get out of here!" Robert hollered, voice cracking with urgency.
They fled, but the young woman stumbled on the uneven ground. Robert's instinct was to help, but the grub lunged again, slamming into his barrier with renewed force. He edged around the crumbling wall, flames crackling at his fingertips. Channeling Elemental Manipulation, he unleashed a gout of fire that struck the creature's side, igniting its chitin. It recoiled with an ear-splitting shriek, thrashing as flames gnawed at its shell.
He fired another burst, blasting its midsection. The chitin blackened and cracked, but the beast refused to yield. It emitted a guttural roar, slamming repeatedly into the barrier. Robert hurled another fireball, catching its underbelly. The creature howled, its wrath only growing.
Suddenly, the grub drew back and spat a clump of thick, oozing mucus at the base of the barrier. Robert stared in horror as the slime corroded the stone, eating through it faster than acid, green tendrils of corruption seeping into the soil. The grove's magic reacted violently; the golden motes in the air turned a sickly green, and the hum of the central tree grew discordant, as if in pain.
"Robert!" a villager shouted from a cottage window. "The wall's melting!"
"Yes, I can see that!" he gritted out, mind racing.
The beast took advantage of the gap, smashing its bulk against the dissolving wall. Cracks splintered across the stone, leaking swirling green sludge that hissed against the ground.
"Moira," Robert cried, "do we have anything to stop that stuff?"
"Try Downpour!" she answered. "Wash it away!"
He called upon elemental water, adapting on the fly as he often did now. Ignoring his spellbook, he manipulated raw elements, a rapid-response tactic Moira's gifts had honed during their first dungeon run. It cost more mana but amplified his flexibility. He summoned a controlled torrent, battering the sticky mucus. It thinned under the rain, but not fast enough, and the water spread the corrosive slime into the soil's cracks, where it steamed and corrupted further, tainting the grove's edge.
The barrier trembled under another strike. Behind him, a faint clang rang out. Old Garrick stood, wielding a bent shovel, corralling a small group of villagers. They aimed buckets of water at the fizzing sludge, dousing it in frantic bursts.
"Bless you all," Robert muttered, adrenaline spiking as he aimed another watery blast at the slime. "But I can't be worried about you lot. Please, clear out!"
The grub hammered the barrier again, a web of cracks shooting through the stone. With a thunderous snap, the wall collapsed.
Robert jerked back, throwing up his arms in reflex. "Flame Veil!" he shouted. A ring of fire whooshed to life around him, forcing the grub to recoil from the searing heat. But the beast had learned caution, skittering sideways with a wrathful hiss, mandibles flaring.
"Robert, watch out!" Moira warned.
The creature's abdomen curled upward, launching a jagged piece of its cracked chitin in his direction. He barely managed an Air Deflection, a gust of wind sending the shard spinning harmlessly aside.
His breath came in ragged gasps. He needed to keep it guessing. With his flame ring still crackling, he unleashed a sudden Downpour overhead. Fat raindrops slammed down, mixing with the sizzling remains of acid and slime on the ground. The air filled with steam and the stench of burnt flesh, the grub hissing as it struggled to find footing on the muddy ground.
A stray splash of acid hit his shoulder, and Robert cried out, pain exploding like a hot blade through his shirt, blistering his skin. He staggered, pressing against the debris of his barrier.
"Focus, vessel!" Moira shouted. "Block the pain!"
He forced his mind to clear, Pain Suppression kicking in. Relief flooded him, though the acid still seared his shoulder. More acid dripped from the creature's maw, hissing as it corroded the ground. Terrified whispers echoed from the cottages. He couldn't let them down.
Meeting the creature's next slam, Robert shaped a smaller, angled Earth Barrier meant to deflect rather than block. The grub's bulk punched through, cracking stone and sending shards flying. His mana reserves dipped lower, his head spinning from the effort. Impromptu casting was effective, but his physical limits loomed. I need to train more, he thought, this kind of power, bending mana to my intent, it's what I need for moments like this.
Villagers kept hurling water and debris. One braver soul tossed a lit torch, trying to catch the creature's shell off-guard. The flame sputtered on the rain-soaked ground but sparked an idea.
Robert exhaled, struggling to keep a clear head, sweat blurring his vision. His next move had to count. Using Elemental Manipulation, he collided a burst of purified water with another spray of acid midair, neutralizing it in a sharp hiss. The grub shrieked in frustration.
They circled each other in a brutal dance, his spells weakening, the grub slowing but unyielding. His mana reserves dipped dangerously low. He touched the Aetherium Core on his chest, its glow faint from stored power he'd gathered. Using it would drain future potential.
"Do it," Moira urged. "Survive now. We'll worry about growth later."
He drew on the core's energy, feeling it rush through his veins like fire. The core's light dimmed, but his strength surged. Channeling earth and fire, he cast another Earth Barrier, this time weaving flames around its edges to sear the creature on impact. The grub smashed into it, screeching as the superheated rock singed its flesh, steam rising in plumes. But the beast refused to retreat.
"Enough!" Robert roared, the creature roaring back, jaws snapping mere feet away.
He spotted a shard of broken chitin on the ground. With Elemental Imbument, he lifted it, channeling flames around the jagged spike, heat radiating in molten hues. It reminded him of crafting his shillelagh, using raw materials and will to create.
The creature opened its maw for a final strike. Robert hurled the flaming spear with every drop of power he had. Time seemed to freeze, the projectile spinning end-over-end. It embedded deep in the grub's gaping mouth, fire erupting through the back of its head.
A final scream tore from the monster before it collapsed, its colossal body twitching once, then lying still. The air reeked of charred flesh, thick and suffocating. The grove's motes of light slowly returned to gold, the wildflowers uncurling as the corruptive aura faded, though the central tree's hum remained faint, as if recovering from the ordeal.
A hush fell, broken only by the hiss of acid burning patches of soil. Robert's vision blurred, the Aetherium Core pulsing weakly. Darkness crept at the edges of his sight.
He staggered forward, Moira's voice a distant, panicked murmur. Villagers cheered behind him, but the sound was muffled, as if underwater. He mumbled something incoherent as the ground and sky flipped places.
Then darkness took him.