Later that evening they set up camp near a smooth boulder that Thalos normally used. Percy dropped his stuff in a pile and began to prepare to head out. Dıscover more novels at 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢•𝓷𝓮𝓽
He took his knife, some rope, his water bottle, and a bag to carry the bounty from his prey. No need to go too far from what Thalos told him, the Golden Shrikes nested in the trees just by the plains.
So he set out without saying much, just giving Thalos a curt nod before sinking into the dark forest.
It was always the same. Old trees creaking and raking against his nerves, nocturnal birds buzzing between the trees above him, hunting the insects that occasionally jumped on his neck.
Percy resisted the urge to crush a gnat that landed on his neck and just flicked it off. He didn't want to make much noise. The shadows between the trees shouldn't be disturbed.
He kept the Spellbolt in his hand, but walked almost casually, slow and deliberate like he knew where he was going, careful to avoid fallen twigs. He found that it was easier to conceal his presence .
Creeping through the dark patches on the earth, he carefully watched everything around him, letting his sense of urgency guide his mind towards danger.
He stopped behind a tree. He could feel something watching him on the other side at a distance, but he couldn't gauge how dangerous it was like Thalos could.
He decided to walk diagonally first, then move backwards and try to get a peek at what it was. He couldn't feel its eyes so he guessed it was still looking for him. He walked and checked carefully until he finally found it.
It was a weasel. He almost slapped himself in annoyance. Instead, he walked back towards his trail and got to finding the stream Thalos said would be in this direction.
Soon he started hearing the gentle sound of water flowing through the cool air of the night. Just in case of danger, he stopped short of the river and had a peek from behind a tree, crouching and surveying the shaded banks of the stream.
Once he confirmed that there was nothing out there and he wasn't being watched, he quickly ran out. In a few strides, he ignited his spirit and jumped right over the stream.
The chilly wind ruffled his black and white hair as he soared over the crystal waters of the stream. He landed without much fanfare and immediately crawled back over to the trees.
He would have loved to take time to admire the way the moonlight glanced off the water, or its calming sound, but he wasn't exactly safe out here.
He continued his trek through the forest to find the Golden Shrikes. It wouldn't be too far from here, once he started seeing tall white trees with huge spikes he was close.
The silence was getting to him, not because he was scared, but because he liked hearing the sound of his voice, like many others do. The Shrikes were sensitive to sound, less powerful than their eyes, but still a problem.
He kept thinking about the Lighting magic tool he wanted to make as he walked through the forest. It would alert the Shrikes that something was wrong, but the magic tool would move separate from him.
It could be a distraction. Or like a fun little companion, anything that would just make this walk a bit less dull.
Something caught his attention, a sharp sound of movement in the trees. His heartbeat picked up as he sensed something coming.
He shrunk behind a tree and prepared to shoot. This whole time he had been holding back and being careful because he wanted to preserve the Spellbolt's battery. He was also worried about another jam.
He ran his fingers over the white wood of the Spellbolt and crawled over to a bush and submerged himself briefly into the void to summon spirits. He didn't have much time to focus so he kept closing and opening his eyes till he could get enough spirits to attack.
At first he was worried about the lights the spirits emitted, but he was more or less sure that magical beasts, like the Golden Shrike, saw spirits all the time. A sharp sound drew his attention above.
There was a burst of movement above him as the Shrike came down on him. Percy rolled out of the way, feeling the rush of wind as its hooked claws just missed him.
He enhanced his legs with his Fighting Spirit immediately and danced through the trees as he cast his spell.
"Drive of the world, swift and free, Rush the gale, surge through me!"
He felt the Shrike surge behind him and spun as [Tailwind] was cast. The funnel of wind slowed down everything coming towards him and sped him and anything moving away from him up.
The Shrike was yellow like a sunrise, a bright spot in the dark cluster of trees, moving like a yellow flash. Its wingspan was longer than his entire body and its claws looked like black hooks.
The bird's pure black eyes widened in surprise as the wind resisted its movement and it was left suspended in the air for a short time. Percy wasted no time, raising his Spellbolt and shooting in one smooth move.
The streaking flash of blue mana and the sharp crack of the shot lit up the forest. The Golden Shrike's entire body was illuminated by the light as it tore into the bird's chest and out the other end.
The forest grew painfully quiet as the sound and light of the shot faded. [Tailwind] expired as Percy stopped supplying it spirit energy and the Shrike fell to the earth lightly.
He rushed over to the bird and dragged it into the sack he brought, surprised by its light body despite already expecting it to be light.
Once he was done packing up his kill, he turned and ran back towards the river, a bit noisier than before. He needed to get away from Shrike territory before they all came to find out what made that noise.
The clear stream of the river appeared in his eyes as the trees cleared. He enhanced his legs again and tried to clear the river in a single leap like before. But something hit him in the back while he was midair.
The unexpected blow sent him crashing into the water with cold clarity. He grabbed his back as he resurfaced and swam towards the bank.
An arrow. Someone shot him in the back, but it pierced the Shrike in the sack instead of him. He climbed onto the bank of the river, dripping from head to toe, with a chilling realisation.
A human was out here hunting him.