Chapter 18 The Croak That Shook the Forest （1）
The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. Every creak of the wooden palisade, every rustle of the leaves beyond the treeline felt like the drumbeat before a storm.
Sylendra’s voice rang out sharp and commanding. “Stone Bears—stand ready!”
The two massive beasts lumbered forward, their claws digging into the earth, each movement rumbling like distant thunder. Their amber eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, the air around them heavy with the scent of stone and moss.
A shout from the watchtower snapped the stillness.
“They’re here!”
Sylendra and I bolted toward the palisade wall, our boots thudding against the wooden stairs. When we reached the top, my gaze was drawn immediately to the forest.
It was dying.
The once lush emerald canopy now sagged under a creeping black rot that spread like veins across the bark. Leaves curled and fell in showers of brittle ash, and the air itself seemed to sour.
Then it appeared.
A lone Gloomcroak burst from the shadows, landing on all fours with a wet, sickening slap. Its mottled skin glistened with slime, and its bulging yellow eyes rolled toward the soldiers standing guard at the gate.
I glanced at Sylendra. Her normally serene features twisted in fury, her emerald hair whipping in the wind like living vines.
The Gloomcroak’s gaze locked onto a soldier near the front—its mouth yawning wide to reveal rows of needle-like teeth. With a guttural croak, it lurched forward and let its thick, barbed tongue snap out like a whip.
The soldier froze, terror rooting him to the spot.
“Move!” Captain Darruk’s voice thundered from the wall, but the man couldn’t so much as flinch.
In a heartbeat, I vaulted from the palisade. The wind roared past my ears as I fell, my grip tightening on my blades. My feet hit the ground, knees bending to absorb the shock, and in one swift motion, I swung.
The Gloomcroak’s tongue fell to the dirt with a wet slap, twitching like a dying serpent. Its scream tore through the air, but before it could recoil, I dashed forward, my blade arcing in a clean strike that split its throat.
The creature collapsed, ichor pooling beneath it. I turned to the soldier. “You okay?”
“Uh… y-yeah,” he stammered, still pale.
A deep, resonating croak echoed through the forest.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
The undergrowth exploded as one by one—then by the dozens—Gloomcroaks poured out of the trees. Their slick bodies writhed and hopped forward in a tide of snapping jaws and thrashing tongues.
Sylendra vaulted from the wall beside me, her emerald eyes blazing with fury.
She thrust out her hand and shouted, “Guardian Vines!” The ground shuddered beneath our feet as if answering her call.
From the churned soil, thick vines burst upward, coiling and braiding into a living barricade.
A roaring gale followed in their wake, tearing through the front ranks of the Gloomcroaks and piercing them back in a spray of muck, slime, and splintered earth.
But for every one she threw aside, three more took its place.
The palisade shuddered as the swarm pressed closer.
“It’s here!” Darruk’s voice roared from above.
I turned to Sylendra. “So that’s—”
“Yes,” she said, her voice low and grim. “The Molgurath.”
As more and more of the creatures poured from the forest, Captain Darruk’s voice cut through the chaos like a whip.
“Retreat to the wall—now!”
Sylendra’s gaze darted to me. “The captain’s right—there are too many of them!”
I nodded sharply. “Alright, fall back!”
The front line broke, every soldier at the gate turning and sprinting for the safety of the wooden walls.
I spotted the same soldier from earlier, still standing like a statue, his eyes wide and unblinking.
Without hesitation, I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him along, my boots pounding against the churned earth as the guttural croaks closed in behind us.
We barreled through the gate just as the last of the guards slipped inside. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut, and the bar was thrown into place with a solid thunk.
“Archers!” Darruk bellowed from the walkway above. “Ready—aim—fire!”
A volley of arrows whistled through the air, their tips glinting in the torchlight before sinking into the slick hides of the advancing Gloomcroaks. Several collapsed with wet, gurgling cries, but the swarm behind them barely slowed. The air was thick with the smell of rot and stagnant water.
The mass of creatures surged right up to the base of the wall, their clawed limbs scraping and slapping against the logs.
The archers struggled to get a clear shot—some firing straight down into the writhing mass, others forced to drop their bows entirely and draw blades to hack at tongues and claws reaching over the edge.
Outside, the Gloomcroaks hurled themselves at the barricade again and again, their weight and numbers making the walls groan and shudder.
Clumps of mud and moss rained down from between the logs as each impact grew heavier than the last. The defenders loosed another volley, but it was chaos—arrows deflecting off snapping jaws, some striking comrades by mistake in the frantic melee atop the wall.
Then it came.
A deep, resonating CRACK split the night as one particularly massive Gloomcroak—its bulk towering over the others—slammed its entire weight into the palisade. The wood split like kindling, a jagged gap tearing open in the barricade.
Soldiers stationed along that section of the wall stumbled, some toppling from the walkway entirely as the force of the impact flung them to the ground below. A few archers on the flank barely had time to scream before the creature’s barbed tongue lashed out, yanking them into the darkness beyond.
The Molgurath had arrived.
As I stared at the massive creature blocking the breach, its hulking frame loomed over the shattered wall, muscles bulging beneath mottled, slime-slick skin. Each guttural breath carried the stench of swamp and decay.
Beside me, Sylendra’s jaw tightened. “Stone Bears—draw its attention!” she commanded, her voice cracking through the chaos like a whip.
The two massive beasts roared and charged, their claws gouging deep trenches in the dirt. The ground shuddered beneath their weight as they thundered toward the Molgurath, their amber eyes locked on the target.
The monster’s bulbous yellow eyes narrowed, its throat swelling as it let out a croak so loud the air seemed to ripple. The first Stone Bear slammed into its side while the second clamped powerful jaws around its shoulder, teeth sinking into rubbery flesh.
For a moment, it seemed the bears might overpower it. The Molgurath’s long, webbed claws flailed, slime spraying across the ground as it wrestled with the pair.
Then, with horrifying ease, it seized both bears—one in each clawed hand—lifted them clean off the ground, and smashed them together with a bone-rattling THUD. Before they could recover, the monster spun in a wide, brutal arc and hurled them across the village.
The Stone Bears crashed through a row of houses, splintering wood and sending rooftops caving in. Dust and debris exploded outward as the ground trembled from the impact. Villagers screamed and scattered, fleeing the collapse.
Sylendra’s breath caught, her knuckles tightening around her staff. “No…”
The Molgurath turned back toward the breach, its eyes locking on me as it let out another thunderous croak.
The Molgurath let out a thunderous croak that shook the very ground. As if answering its call, the swarm of Gloomcroaks surged through the breach, their slick bodies writhing over one another in a tide of claws, snapping jaws, and whipping tongues.
“Hold the line! Cut them down!” Darruk roared, his voice booming above the chaos.
The soldiers stationed atop the wall didn’t hesitate—they leapt down, blades flashing as they joined the fray.
Those already on the ground charged forward, shields locking in a desperate attempt to stem the flood.
Steel clashed against slime-coated flesh, the air filling with guttural croaks and the screams of the wounded.
“Let’s go, Raito!” Sylendra shouted, already sprinting toward the melee.
“Right!” I replied, and we plunged into the chaos alongside the others.
I slashed low, severing a thrashing tongue before driving my blade into the eye of a lunging Gloomcroak.
The creature convulsed before collapsing, its foul ichor splattering across my boots.
Beside me, Sylendra’s hands blazed with green light—she thrust her palms forward, sending a torrent of thorned vines lashing through the nearest cluster of enemies.
The vines wrapped around them like constricting snakes, crushing bone and flesh before snapping away to strike again.
A Gloomcroak lunged at her from the side, but she spun, releasing a burst of shimmering spores that exploded mid-air. The creature gagged and writhed, blinded and choking before collapsing in a twitching heap.
But for every monster we felled, two more took its place. The Gloomcroaks were everywhere—crawling over rooftops, smashing through market stalls, dragging screaming soldiers to the ground.
A soldier to my right was seized by two of the beasts, his sword knocked from his grip.
He screamed as one dragged him down, its needle-like teeth sinking into his shoulder while another latched onto his leg.
I lunged toward him, but before I could reach him, they pulled him into the swarm and he vanished.
Another man fell behind me, his shield split apart by a barbed tongue that then punched clean through his chest. He crumpled instantly, eyes staring lifelessly.
“Fall back! FALL BACK!” Darruk’s voice thundered, desperation lacing every word.
The line broke. Those still standing turned and ran, retreating deeper into the village as the Gloomcroaks poured in unchecked.
Sylendra and I moved with them, cutting down anything that tried to give chase.
Her spells tore through the streets—walls of roots sprang up to slow the enemy, while bursts of thorn and wind sent several crashing into the dirt.
The sound of croaks and pounding feet echoed between the buildings as the swarm claimed the streets.
As we retreated, the swarm followed close behind. I caught glimpses of soldiers ahead of me—running for their lives—only to be snatched by snapping tongues and dragged screaming back into the mass of Gloomcroaks. My grip on my blades tightened.
I couldn’t stand it.
Darruk noticed the look in my eyes. “Don’t even think about it, kid,” he barked without slowing his pace.
I glanced back at him, my jaw clenched.
“It’s not worth risking your life for a village you didn’t even belong to,” he added, his voice hard but laced with urgency.
Sylendra, running just beside me, cut in sharply. “He’s right, Raito—we’ll have to find another way!”
I slowed, lowering my head. My boots skidded against the dirt as I came to a stop. Both of them halted with me, their faces tense, ready to drag me if they had to.
“Raito, listen to me—” Sylendra began, but I cut her off.
“Look… it doesn’t matter if I’m not from this village,” I said, raising my head to meet their eyes. “I just don’t like seeing other people suffer.”
Before either of them could answer, I turned and sprinted toward the swarm.
“You two go on ahead,” I said firmly. “I’ll hold them off.”
“Raito!” Sylendra’s voice cracked, but I didn’t look back.
The first Gloomcroak’s barbed tongue snapped toward me. I ducked under it and thrust out my palm—Flare Burst! A sphere of searing fire erupted from my hand, exploding against the creature’s head and sending it sprawling in flames.
Another lunged from the side, and I slashed its leg before sweeping my free hand across the ground—Frost Spire! Shards of ice erupted upward, impaling two more mid-leap. Their bodies twitched before sliding off the jagged spikes.
I kept moving—heat and frost flashing in rapid succession.
A blast of fire cleared a path, tongues and claws burning away in the blaze, while icy lances tore through the ones trying to flank me.
I struck with my blades in between spells, severing limbs, splitting throats, and leaving a trail of charred and frozen corpses in my wake.
The Molgurath loomed ahead. Its massive form dwarfed the swarm, its guttural croak rumbling through the air as it tore through a collapsed house in its way.
I charged straight for it, flames dancing across my swords.
It struck first—its tongue lashed out like a spear, smashing into my side and sending me crashing into a pile of shattered crates. Pain flared white-hot in my ribs, but I forced myself up, ice magic coating my blades in jagged frost.
I darted forward, slashing across its forearm.
Frost spread from the wound, locking part of its arm in place—just long enough for me to swing again, fire trailing my blade as it bit into its shoulder.
The Molgurath roared, swiping with a claw the size of a cartwheel.
I barely managed to cross my blades in time, but the force sent me skidding backward, my arms screaming from the impact.
I hurled a burst of flame toward its face, but it lunged through the blast, grabbing me in its massive claw and slamming me into the ground hard enough to make my vision go white.
Before I could recover, its foot came down, pinning me by the chest. My ribs felt like they were splintering, and I couldn’t draw a breath.
The Molgurath’s throat swelled, ready to let loose a killing croak.
A sudden surge of green magic exploded between us, hurling the beast back several steps. Vines as thick as tree trunks whipped out of the ground, wrapping around its limbs and forcing it to stagger.
Sylendra stood between me and the monster, her hands blazing with light. “You’re not dying here, Raito!” she shouted, her voice raw.