Chapter 16 Whispers Beneath the Willow
When I finally struck the killing blow, the Gloomcroak let out one last hideous croak before collapsing into the ground with a thunderous splash. Steam hissed from its wounds as its massive body began to sink into the mud at the lake’s edge. The battle was over.
I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. The stillness that followed the fight was almost unnatural. No birds chirped. No insects buzzed. Only the faint hiss of steam and the distant ripple of water disturbed the silence.
I turned toward the woman standing among the gathered animals. Her glowing green aura had begun to dim, but the light still shimmered softly around her like morning mist. “Are you okay?” I asked, stepping closer.
She blinked as if waking from a daze. “Ah… yes. I am. Thank you,” she said, her voice still a little unsteady. “Can I ask… who are you?”
“The name’s Raito,” I replied, slipping my swords back into my item box. “Don’t mention it. But… mind telling me what exactly is going on here? Why did that thing attack you?”
She looked down for a moment, gathering herself, then nodded. “Of course. It’s just… all of this happened so fast.”
She took a shaky breath, her body still tense from the aftermath of the battle. Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
“That creature… the Gloomcroak… it arrived at the lake about a week ago. It came with a storm—lightning, thunder, winds so violent they nearly tore the trees from the earth. It felt like nature itself was warning us… but I didn’t understand it then. Not until it was too late.”
Her gaze drifted toward the dark waters, her expression full of sorrow.
“At first, it was just the birds. Their songs vanished from the forest. Then the deer stopped coming to drink. Even the wolves—the fiercest creatures of these woods—went silent. I thought it might’ve been a change in season… or a predator passing through. But no… it was something worse.”
She rested a hand on the bark of a nearby tree, fingers digging into it as if trying to anchor herself in the memory.
“Then the fish began to disappear. Entire schools gone overnight. Silverveil Trout, Glassfin Eels, even the glowing Moonscale Minnows that only appear under starlight—they all vanished. Or worse… I found their bodies floating at the shore. Some were shredded. Others bloated, like something inside them had rotted. The smell still lingers on the wind.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. The moment she said that, I caught a faint trace of rot on the breeze. A sour, unnatural stench that clung to the edges of my senses.
Her voice lowered, bitter and grim.
“This lake… it’s not just water. It’s sacred.
Its essence is tied to the heart of the forest. I can feel it.
But after that thing arrived, parts of the water changed.
It grew thick, tainted—like some kind of oily poison had seeped in.
The plants along the bank started to wilt.
The animals began to avoid it. Even the strongest fish now float near the surface, struggling to breathe. And all the while, it kept feeding.”
She turned toward me fully now. No longer just sorrow in her eyes—there was fury, and fear.
“The Gloomcroak wasn’t just a monster. It was a curse. A sickness. It doesn’t kill just to feed—it corrupts. Unbalances everything it touches. If it hadn’t been stopped, the lake would’ve died. And once that happened… the forest would’ve followed.”
I folded my arms. “No wonder it was so massive—it had probably been feeding for days.”
She gave a slow nod. “I only just learned what was happening here. I’m connected to this forest, but I can’t be everywhere at once. I came too late to stop it before it grew strong.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Dryad… you can sense everything in this forest, right? If that Gloomcroak was living here for a while… is there any chance it left behind an egg or something?”
Her eyes widened. “That’s… a good point.”
She closed her eyes, placing both hands over her heart. The air shimmered faintly around her as she extended her senses through the land. The moment stretched into silence, broken only by the ripple of the corrupted water and the wind through the leaves.
Then, all at once, her eyes snapped open, filled with alarm.
I straightened. “What is it?”
“This is bad,” she said, her voice urgent. “A large number of Gloomcroaks… are headed toward a village. Mossveil.”
“Mossveil?” I echoed. “Where’s that?”
“It’s a demi-human settlement near another lake, not unlike this one,” she explained quickly. “The people there rely entirely on that lake for food. If those creatures reach the village…”
“They won’t stand a chance,” I finished for her, my expression hardening. “So this one wasn’t alone… it was just separated from the swarm.”
I clenched my fists. Images filled my mind—of families fishing by the lake, of children laughing in the shade of tall trees, unaware that something monstrous was closing in on them.
I took a breath, then asked, “Wait—what about the lake here? Did this one lay any eggs before it died?”
She shook her head. “No. Thankfully, it didn’t.”
I let out a small sigh of relief. “Good.”
Then she looked at me again, her green eyes filled with urgency. “You said your name is Raito, right?”
“Yeah?”
“I know I have no right to ask… but would you help me protect Mossveil? If those Gloomcroaks reach the village… many will die. Please.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “If I’ve got to fight more of those things, so be it. I’ll help you.”
She looked visibly relieved. “Thank you.”
Without wasting another moment, I packed up my camp, storing everything back into my item box. I equipped my gloves and boots, ready to move.
Then I noticed her climbing onto the back of one of the massive Stone Bears—the same C-rank magical beasts that had defended her earlier. She turned to me. “We’ll get there faster if the bears carry us. Hop on.”
“Right.”
I climbed onto the second bear, gripping the thick fur as I settled in behind its shoulders. The Dryad gave the command, and the two bears took off at a thunderous pace, the forest blurring around us as we rushed through the moonlit woods.
As we rode, I called out to her over the wind. “Hey! I never asked—what’s your name?”
She glanced back at me, her long hair flowing in the wind. “Sylendra. I am the Dryad of Gladehollow.”
“Gladehollow?” I repeated. “That the name of this forest?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice proud. “It is my home… and I intend to protect it. Just as I will protect Mossveil.”
As we rushed through the moonlit forest, the wind whipped past my face, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.
The pounding of the Stone Bears’ heavy paws echoed through the woods like distant thunder.
I held on tightly, my fingers gripping the coarse fur of the bear beneath me, trying to steady myself against its swift and powerful strides.
I glanced toward Sylendra, riding just ahead. Her long hair shimmered with a faint green glow, like starlight caught in the wind, and her gaze was fixed firmly ahead. Even in the darkness, she seemed to shine—a spirit of the forest driven by purpose.
“How long until we get there?” I asked, raising my voice over the wind and the pounding hooves.
She looked back at me briefly, her expression calm but tense. “We’ll reach Mossveil by morning. Hopefully just in time to warn the villagers before those creatures arrive.”
I nodded, falling silent again. The urgency in her voice settled heavy in my chest. I could already picture the village she spoke of—quiet, peaceful, unaware of the nightmare creeping toward it.
As the trees blurred past us, I tilted my head to the sky. The moon hung high, its pale light filtering through the canopy in broken patches. I stared at it for a long moment, then let out a breath and muttered to myself.
“I hope you’re watching, goddess…”
The words came without thinking, quiet, like a prayer I didn’t know I still held in me.
“You said I’d be your sword in the shadows,” I whispered, my voice lost in the wind. “If this is what you meant—if this is the kind of fight you wanted from me—then I’ll see it through.”
A part of me had always doubted her. I still did. But in this moment—riding into danger to protect people I’d never met—I couldn’t deny the truth.
Even in the shadows… a sword still cuts.
And I intended to make every strike count.