"Are you ready to move?" Kayda asked, standing tall beside me, her arms crossed as she watched me squatting in the dirt with a dozen small components scattered around me. I was surrounded by fragments of adamite shavings, loose vials of compressed mana, and a soft humming glow from half-formed projectiles. I glanced up briefly, noting the expectant look in her golden eyes.
"Almost. I am just making the last few bullets," I said, nodding as I slipped the next core into its casing and sealed it shut with a flick of heat magic. The bullet clicked, hardened, and glowed faintly with energy. I held it up to inspect the runework before placing it in a small slot on my belt.
Kayda shifted her stance, turning to face the thick curtain of trees behind her. "Now that I think of it… how long can you hold your invisible mana?" she asked, her tone drifting with idle curiosity but laced with subtle intent.
I stopped mid-assembly, pausing to tap my finger against my cheek as I thought it over. "Depends on what I make with it. If I create a sword, thirty seconds tops—maybe thirty-five if I keep it light and balanced. A small dagger, though? That'll last long enough to throw and kill something five meters away, maybe a second or two longer if I angle it right."
I shifted to the side, reaching for another casing as I continued, "Wires are different. I can hold them for four minutes, give or take. Depends on the length and number, though. If I go crazy with them, they start to break down quicker. But the time difference is small—just a few seconds or so."
"Hmm. Not bad," Kayda said, her voice calm yet carrying that familiar teacher's edge. "But you can do better than that, Kitsu."
I frowned slightly, my tail twitching. Her tone stung more than I wanted to admit. "I know I can," I muttered, not looking at her. "I just run out of mana rapidly."
"We need to work on your mana recovery," she said again, like a mantra she'd chanted too many times.
"I know we do. I just don't know how." I snapped back a little sharper than I meant. I sealed another bullet and set it aside, brushing metal shavings from my gloves.
"Meditate, for starters."
"That's not going to work," I said immediately, narrowing my eyes. "You know how my brain works."
She hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line. "...Sigh. You at least need to try and figure something out," Kayda said, softening her tone in an attempt to sound sincere.
"Kayda," I said as I stood, brushing the dust from my legs and stretching my back with a low grunt. "I've been thinking about how to fix it for ages. Nothing works. Meditation, breathing techniques, sleeping potions. None of it matters if my brain's still a mess. The only thing that's worked so far is forcing my control to improve and expanding my mana pool the hard way."
"So you're forcing it," she said with a slow nod, as if mentally filing away the words for later.
"Yeah. If you want to look at it like that," I replied, shrugging. "It works, doesn't it?"
Kayda didn't respond right away. Instead, she crossed her arms and tilted her head up slightly to meet my gaze. "Kitsu, do you remember the reason we're on this trip? The main reason?"
"For me to learn more things," I said, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
"Yes," she said firmly. "It's for you to learn and grow. That includes your mind."
"There's nothing wrong with my mind," I grumbled, glaring at her as a sharp gust blew dust across the clearing.
"Right," she said with a knowing look, and then, without warning, she pulled something from her pouch and tossed it at me.
Instinctively, I reacted—before it even hit the ground, I flared my magic, and the object burst into white flames the moment it touched the dirt. In seconds, it turned to ash.
"See?" Kayda said, folding her arms again and pointing at the smoldering pile. "You didn't even look at what it was. Just torched it because it was white."
"No, I didn't do that," I said quickly, turning away, but even I didn't believe myself.
"Kitsu, don't try to ignore this," Kayda said, worry seeping into her voice.
'I already know that, Kayda,' I thought bitterly, my tail curling around my leg. Meditation is just something I can't do. There are too many demons in my head for me to sit still for that long.
"Hey, say something, fox," Kayda snapped when I didn't answer. She was clearly annoyed I'd clammed up again.
Before I could respond, a faint rustling sounded to the left. I perked up immediately. "Oh, our first meal is here," I said, grabbing a handful of throwing knives and flicking them toward the bushes.
Ugh!
Gra!
Urk!
Three dull thuds echoed, and a trio of goblin bodies tumbled out from behind the foliage, blades stuck in their throats and chests.
"The poor goblins didn't even want to fight," Kayda muttered, watching their limp forms crumple.
"And the orcs heading this way?" I said, tilting my head.
"Ah, that's true." She hummed, not bothering to explain her earlier sympathy.
"The first layer of the Dead Forest mostly consists of goblins, orcs, kobolds, and lizardmen. Although they're different races, they seem to love working together—or so I've been told," I said, thoughtfully rubbing my chin.
"That is correct; however, there are many more races in the forest beyond just those," Kayda replied. "They even have their own towns in the forest. But monsters are monsters. They fight. A lot. Wars happen constantly between towns."
"This forest gets more fascinating the more I hear about it," I laughed. "It's like a dysfunctional kingdom of bloodthirsty gremlins."
"Yes. And very annoying."
"So is there a war going on right now? I mean, the forest feels more unstable than usual," I said, eyes drifting to the distant mountain ridges.
"There is. And it's way bigger than usual. We don't understand why yet, but something's changed," Kayda said, sighing.
"So we need to investigate that," I nodded.
"Yes, but we already have a few theories."
"Are you suggesting that a more powerful monster came down the mountain?" I asked. Even from here, the mountains were just slivers on the horizon. The idea that something from up there had wandered all the way down made my ears twitch.
"Usually, they wouldn't. But this time, we think something else came into the forest from outside. Something new has arrived, and now everyone is riled up and scared.
"So the scaredy-cats are coming down to avoid it?" I said, grinning.
"Pretty much, yeah."
"But then why is the main focus in the lower section of the forest?"
"Huh. Kitsu, think about it. Why would we send troops to deal with some powerful monster up in the mountains when the civilians are the priority?"
"Ah. I don't know. Because it might become a danger in the future?" I asked, holding up a severed orc head like a puppet.
"That's true," she said with a flat stare, "but that's only in the future. The immediate threat must always come first."
"And that's the town?"
"Yes and no. It's the powerful monsters that came down. Some of them are smart—smart enough to unite the weaker towns under their command." Kayda's voice grew sharper.
"Ahh, the intelligent ones. Those are the real pains," I said, nodding in understanding.
"Kitsu. To your right."
"I know," I muttered, shifting slightly as a dark wolf lunged out of the trees. My invisible wires snapped taut, and the beast was sliced into a thousand ribbons before it even reached us.
Kayda grimaced. "Ugh, we are not going to spar anymore."
"Huh!? Why? Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes. Your invisible manner is annoying. I need my carpet to even feel them," she said, gesturing to the shimmering blood-thread still hanging in the air.
"But I can't use mana when your carpet is active."
"I know. So we're learning that today," she said with a tone that ended the conversation before I could argue.
"But it's a date."
"No. It's an investigation."
"No, it's a time just for the two of us," I insisted. "No teaching, just walking and murdering monsters together."
"And killing everything we see. Fine. I'll drop it then," she said with a sigh.
"When you're open again, we can spar properly, okay?" I said this while leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Okay." She smiled faintly, soft and rare.
"Oh, look at these two different symbols," I said, crouching by an orc's body and inspecting the cloth on its shoulder. The stitched pattern was crude but deliberate.
"Ah. Looks like we found a collaboration. The first symbol represents Blood Bear Town, while the second symbolizes the Blood Wolf. Kayda knelt beside me, ripping the cloth free.
"Sometimes I really hate my luck," I muttered.
"Why?"
"I always get pulled into something bigger. Never just a quick run. Always something we need to fix."
"Hmm, that's true. But hey, you'd be bored otherwise."
"I'd take a nap over this," I grumbled.
Kayda studied the cloth. "Looks like the towns are working together."
"Who named them that? It's awful."
"I don't know. I didn't write the naming guide for monster towns."
"Ugh, whatever. So what now? Do we go destroy the town?"
"No. Destroying a town causes more problems."
"Why?"
"If we wipe them out, another town just moves in and takes over. Stronger town, more territory, bigger threat."
"Oh. So it's better to let them stay in balance?"
"Exactly. Keep the chaos evenly distributed."
"So what do we do?"
"We find the commander. Take it out."
"Ah, so we are going to attack the town." I grinned.
"You can go wild. Just don't pursue. If they run, let them go."
"Okay, okay. So where's the nearest town?"
"I don't know."
"...What?"
"Kitsu, there are dozens of towns. Why would I know where all of them are?"
"Fair point. But they're not new towns, right?"
"No, but they move. Twice a year, minimum."
"Ahh... so do we need a supervisor?"
"Yes. I'll call one now." Kayda spread her mana into the air like a beacon.
Supervisors of the Dead Forest were like overworked zookeepers. Each had a designated area and had to ensure monster activity didn't spiral out of control. Cleanup, crowd control, and occasional extermination duty—usually alone. They were tough enough to take down hordes without blinking. Most of them were special-grade soldiers.
We were about to meet one.
And I had a feeling things were going to get even more complicated.