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Chapter 130: True Cultivators
🕑 Added 2023-03-10 17:36:00 +0000 UTC“Holy shit!” Jack whispered. “Brock!”
A second face emerged from the leaves, right next to his. Nobody would notice them in such a heated battle, anyway.
The giant roared again, shaking the entire forest. It raised its club high, then brought it down on the minotaur, who raised a tower shield.
The clash was cataclysmic. The earth moaned. The wind stirred. Even the titanic trunks around groaned a bit as the force of the giant crashed down. Jack was horrified; even at this distance, over a hundred feet away, the ground shook under his feet, and his ears rang from the sound.
Holy shit.
The minotaur’s allies were unbothered. As soon as the giant committed to the attack, the swordsman burst into motion. He was a human with long, dark hair and a narrow blade longer than he was tall. He wore a dark cloak with jagged edges, as if battle-tattered.
His feet pounded the ground. Instantly, he was next to the giant, and he slashed out. His blade slid over green skin like a razor whip. Blood spurt out. A long red line was carved into the giant’s exposed ribs, and the creature screamed in pain, a sound even harsher than its previous roars.
The moment it opened its mouth, the witch acted as well. Ice extended from her fingertips, forming thin, smooth lines that materialized through the air like snakes revealing themselves. They reached the giant’s open mouth in a heartbeat and dove inside. Its eyes widened in pain and terror. It tried to scream again, but only blood rose from its throat. Jack didn’t even want to imagine what was happening in there.
At the same time, the giant’s club rose from the ground. The minotaur was revealed under it; crouched, panting, and clearly battered, but still in good shape. His shield remained steady, ready to defend against any attacks.
Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. That giant had attacked with the power of at least a peak E-Grade. It had struck hard enough to break a hill—and this minotaur defender just…took the blow.
Despite the hits it had received, the giant wasn’t dead yet. It snapped its mouth shut, breaking the lines of ice, and whirled its club around to hit the swordsman, but he easily jumped past the blow. The three cultivators returned to their original positions, facing the giant with no injuries.
The giant tried to growl, but it winced and stopped immediately. Whatever those ice lines had done to its throat, it wasn’t good. It looked ready to keep fighting, but the result was already clear. They would just keep torturing this humanoid beast until it dropped dead. This wasn’t a battle. It was a cold-blooded execution.
In fact, Jack suspected that any one of these three could fight the giant by themselves. They were high E-Grades, and additionally, they came from B-Grade factions and had earned the right to enter Trial Planet. They were undoubtedly stronger than normal high E-Grades. Way stronger than Jack himself.
And they were cold-blooded hunters. Merciless and efficient. They showed zero emotion or hesitation as they slowly whittled this poor giant to death.
Jack felt growing terror. He only just realized he’d been frozen, watching this battle like he wasn’t in danger. But he was. He needed to get the hell out of here before these people noticed him. Not only were they strong and ruthless, but one of them came from Animal Kingdom, Jack’s enemy.
The giant swung its club overhead again. Jack didn’t stay to watch. He silently slid the leaves back to their original positions, then grabbed Brock under his armpit and made a mad—but silent—dash towards the anthill. Brock didn’t complain. If Jack had to guess, his blood was also frozen solid.
Even as the ground shook under his feet and the giant’s desperate whimpering was cut short, Jack didn’t look back. He kept running.
High E-Grade beasts that could smell him from a mile away. Ruthless, mighty cultivators. And who knows what else.
This forest was dangerous. He had to get the hell out of here.
And go where? he asked himself. The next rings will be even more dangerous. The monsters will be stronger, and so will the cultivators…
Even if he grew strong enough to fight strong people like them, he couldn’t handle three at once.
I need to find allies, he realized. Gan Salin and whoever else… I won’t last long by myself. By ourselves, he corrected himself, looking at Brock. Brock, still held under Jack’s armpit, gave a thumbs-up.
They had already crossed several miles, approaching the anthill. The sounds of combat had disappeared by now, but Jack still didn’t feel safe. Those people hadn’t come from the direction of the anthill, that was for sure. So could they be headed there?
I need to hide and wait, Jack concluded. He looked around, then up. His eyes shone. “Brock,” he said firmly. We’re climbing!”
They were close to the anthill, next to a tree shorter than most—but still a thousand feet tall. Jack rushed there, threw Brock on the hard bark, then started climbing himself. He even went at the opposite side of the tree, so if those three were approaching, they wouldn’t see him.
This time, he was trying to be fast. The bark flew under his feet, one handhold giving way to another in an endless cycle of reach, grab, pull, and repeat. Soon, Jack made it to the first branch, only to find Brock waiting there. Both were panting hard. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Last time, it had taken thirty.
But they were safe now. Up here, they could hide until the three cultivators went away. Even if they passed right underneath, it was virtually impossible to find Jack and Brock.
Unless the cultivators had some sort of detection magic, but in that case, what could Jack do? He’d just die.
He raised his head and came face to face with a bee. He almost shouted. Its low buzzing was clearly present now that he paid attention—he’d only missed it due to the volume of his thoughts.
Brock must have missed it too, because he jumped and yelled the moment he turned around. “Quiet!” Jack hissed. “Don’t worry. It’s just a bee.”
The bee stared at them from a few feet away. Jack inspected it.
Silent Bee, Level 59
Silent Bees live in tree hives, usually in forest biomes. They are neither aggressive nor territorial. Their only battle instinct is self-defense, which makes them ideal for raising in captivity. Their honey is considered a delicacy in many cultures.
The buzzing of their wings is much more discreet than other bees, hence their name.
Jack had seen this description before. There were many such bees in the forest. He just hadn’t fought them before for two reasons. One, they were pretty friendly, according to their descriptions, and biologists loved bees anyway.
Two, he had spotted a big-ass nest on a tree close to the anthill. Who knows how many bees lived here. If he harmed one, maybe a hundred would come to kick his ass, and he wasn’t about to risk it.
However, the bees never approached him either. This was the first he saw from up-close. So why was it here?
Jack looked at the bee suspiciously. It looked back at him with exactly the impassiveness one expects from an insect. It didn’t attack. It only landed on the branch near them, deciding to rest, presumably.
When the bee landed, the buzzing sound didn’t stop. Jack did a double take. Its wings had stopped moving. So where was the buzzing coming from?
He thought back to the giant hive hanging from a tree near the anthill. He remembered he was on a tree near the anthill. He had only been looking at the bark while climbing.
“Oh, hell no…” he muttered. He reached the edge of the branch in three steps, then looked down. And there was the beehive. Right below him. Dozens of bees flew around it, all around level 60. They were so many that the usually low humming of their wings was audible as a droning buzz.
Jack really wanted to break something. “Un-fucking-believable,” he cursed. “I… Fuck. What sort of terrible luck is this?”
He’d almost ran into a predator, then escaped three others, and now he suddenly found himself basically sitting on a giant beehive that could fill him with more holes than swiss cheese. The only thing keeping him alive was their friendliness, but who knows what kind of misfortune would break that?
Sitting on a bomb was highly stressful.
Brock was scared too, but Jack watched his eyes slowly calm down. He seemed to have found inner peace—perhaps his bravery muscles were hard at work.
Jack took a deep breath, too. I’m panicking, he realized. Calm down, Jack.
He took another deep breath. Then a second. A third.
When he opened his eyes, the bee was still there, not attacking them. The giant was dead. Even if the cultivators came in this direction, he was well-hidden. They couldn’t spot him up here.
And the bees were not hostile.
He took a final deep breath, then relaxed. The situation was tense, but he was safe. And, if things went south, he would just have to find a way out.
“Here’s the plan, Brock,” he told the brorilla, more to gather his own thoughts. “We wait here for an hour. If the cultivators don’t show up, we climb down and sneak through the anthill to reach the second ring. This forest is too dangerous to stay anymore. Is that fine with you?”
Brock considered it. “Yes, bro.”
“Okay. Then we— Oh! You connected two words to form a sentence! Nice going, Brock!”
The brorilla smiled widely. Jack smiled back, finding his worries swiftly evaporating.
“Okay then. Let’s just wait a bit.”
And so they did. Jack sat down, keeping one eye on the bee and the other on the tree trunk, just in case something tried to sneak up on them. He also kept his ears open.
Brock sat next to Jack and sank into meditation. Jack wished he could do the same.
And so they waited, not daring to look below but with Jack’s senses on guard. The minutes ticked by. Half an hour passed. Jack had calmed down completely by now, embracing the fist’s resolve that things would either work out or they wouldn’t. Brock must have found a similar truth, because he was calm, too.
“Do you think it’s safe?” Jack asked.
A deep, loud roar answered him. Jack seized, but this wasn’t the cultivators. It was the giant. But I thought it died! he wondered, then chided himself. Idiot. Of course there’s more than one. Maybe the cultivators are fighting it, too.
A few minutes went by. No more roars came, indicating that there wasn’t a battle going on.
The giant’s roar came again, then descended into an oddly intense growl before going silent. Poor guy, Jack thought. The cultivators must have found you. That sucks. Best of luck.
However, as another minute passed, no more roars came. Jack began to wonder if the giant’s odd growl was because it smelled the cultivators. Poor guy’s walking to his death, he thought, shaking his head with pity.
Another roar came. However, unlike the rest, this one was pretty fucking loud, like the giant was screaming in his ear. And it hid a sense of triumph.
Jack got goosebumps. “Oh,” he said in realization. These giants could smell prey from a mile away, and he wasn’t that high. “Come on. You have got to be kidding me.”
He walked to the edge of the branch and looked down. And there, staring at him triumphantly, was a green, club-wielding giant.
Comments
Valerios
Thank you! The pleasure is all mine. And it's impressive that you keep count.
Lot Nineaitch
Out of 49 separate stories I read on Royal Road, this is the only one which convinced me to join Patreon.
BluEarth
Fee-fi-fo-fum I smell the blood of an Earthly man
