CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A frenzied horde of writhing vines sprouted from the ground to lash out at Tatsuya, attempting to hinder his progress toward Zoel, and it was only his passive ability kicking in immediately that prevented him from becoming entangled; his initial cautiousness was replaced by a fierce concentration once he sensed the disturbances in the air, and a swift mental command was all it took for the whirling currents of wind to follow his every motion, creating a protective barrier around him.

The ground trembled from the onslaught, but his steps were sure-footed and footwork nimble as he tried to dodge and weave through the encroaching obstacles—and where he could not, due to them being many, he thrust his staff downward, causing a gust to burst forth and clear his path. The mighty breeze would sweep through the forest, scattering the vines in all directions.

However, Zoel was quick-witted and adaptive; by her command, the vines stopped rising singly and, instead, intertwined, forming a living barrier that absorbed most of the force of the air blasts. He was able to cut through most, but random shifts in angles and material density did more to halt his strikes than a large but consistent mass, and as time went on, it became a struggle to maintain a calm demeanour and unwavering focus.

He was becoming desperate, and experience had taught him it could lead to a mistake that could spell his doom.

Individually, the vines, although thick and sturdy, lacked the speed needed to catch him unaware, but their sheer numbers and relentlessness were almost overwhelming as they descended upon him with precise, coordinated attacks. It was all he could do to keep dodging—even as more rushed in to fill the gaps—relying in his agility and the whispers of the currents to guide him.

Skilled as he was, Tatsuya was still one man, and under certain circumstances such as this, numbers could often tip the scales. He soon found his movements slowing, fatigue settling into his muscles, and his defences faltering—the situation akin to his time in the tornado, surrounded as he was by the ever-present greenery—and so, in the face of such overwhelming odds, the only choice he had was to retreat for a moment, take stock of his situation, and formulate an appropriate plan. He had wanted to spar against Zoel but it seemed that, maybe, he was way in over his head.

Bending his knees and dropping his knees, he launched himself upwards in a single effort accompanied by the shattering of the earth underfoot, a hand still gripping his staff tightly—

Only to feel something wrap around his ankles and drag him back down.

His breath was stolen forcefully from his lungs, and though surprised, Tatsuya was able to prevent a yelp from escaping his open mouth (taking the experience with composure), but releasing a pained grunt as a small crater heralded his abrupt landing shortly after. However, instead of tightening around him and ending the spar then and there—much to his initial confusion and then dawning horror—the vines withdrew from his body, and not even his composure could be retained as a creature formed entirely of twisting malevolent vines.

It stood tall, its body a mass of writhing green tendrils that extended high into the treetops and its physique mirroring the strength of the mountains themselves, and with a jolt, he realised he was surrounded, every path of retreat cut off by an impenetrable wall of vegetation.

The unfamiliarity of the situation gave him a sense of vulnerability he didn't like, and there was a moment when uncertainty grabbed at his throat, threatening to cut him down and leave him trembling. He struggled to overcome the turmoil, taking some heavy breaths before gritting his teeth and digging his nails painfully through his bandaged arm. It took a while— and he was grateful Zoel had given him time to adjust, though it was tempered by annoyance at her having done so in the first place—but the pain cut through the haze, and he regained control over his mind, wrestling the feeling into submission.

He couldn’t afford to let uncertainty overwhelm him again. His enemies wouldn't be as kind as the vine elemental, and rather than a spar, it would be an actual fight—and, more importantly, emotions could be the difference between life and death.

Sweat trickled down his brow as he observed the serpentine movements of the creature, each individual vine resembling a living snake with a mind of its own, but with his bo staff, he prepared himself to face it head-on. Even the atmosphere crackled with an eerie intensity, and the forest seemed to hold its breath as if aware of the impending clash.

At the unheard strike of an unseen gong, the creature lunged forward—its tendrils reaching out with remarkable speed and dexterity, attempting to ensnare him—but he leaped aside, narrowly avoiding their grasp, and retaliated with a swift swing of his staff. The weapon whistled through the air, channelling a focused burst of wind through its limb, and the force of it tore through several vines.

It was a pity that the creature’s regenerative capabilities were formidable, not to mention its sheer size and physical prowess, as the ground quaked every time it unleashed its might, toppling trees and sending shockwaves through the air. But, unlike most, Tatsuya was not one to dwell on the negatives; for all that, the creature might have the advantage of reach and brute force (making it difficult for him, a smaller opponent, to match its raw power), it was still slow enough that it was child’s play to anticipate its moves and stay out of harm’s way.

Also, as it was created, all he had to do was defeat the creator, and while that was easier said than done, it was not impossible to prevail with the right combination of skill, strategy, and determination. He could do it.

His staff became an extension of himself as, with precision and finesse, he struck fast at the vulnerable spots on the creature’s body, each blow flowing effortlessly from one attack to the next and landing with calculated accuracy—relentless aggression paired with an elusiveness that defied logic; a hurried mix of Leia’s fighting style and his. So, even as it generated new vines nigh immediately and his strength waned, he didn't pause in his actions. He was aiming more for the vine elemental than the creature itself, hoping to overwhelm Zoel with his relentless persistence and cause her to make a mistake he could capitalise on.

He utilised his surroundings, luring the creature into a thicket of trees once his exhaustion became more pronounced, and even as he struck imminently from blind spots when given the chance, he made sure it entangled itself in the trees and branches in its pursuit of him. Amidst the dense foliage, he leaped from tree to tree with barely any disturbance, surprising the creature with his acrobatic manoeuvres. He would swing from a branch and descend upon it like a swooping hawk, his staff finding its mark before he sprang away again.

Every lost limb replaced was a further drain on Zoel’s stamina, and so, as the battle raged on and countless damages were regenerated, his determination never wavered.

However, he could not find the space to retaliate, such was the ferocity of the creature’s strikes, but fortunately, it was all strength, zero skill. Though it possessed limbs that extended and flexed with surprising fluidity due to the nature of vines, it lacked coordination and control and was unable to perform intricate manoeuvres with precision. He reckoned that if it were born from a speciality, the creature’s movements would have been a combination of brute force and astonishing finesse, blending power with grace in a display that defied expectations—able to deliver lightning-fast strikes or unleash a series of complex martial arts-inspired manoeuvres.

As it was now, it was obvious that the summoning was incomplete, and no amount of skill on the elemental’s part could bridge that necessary gap.

Hopefully, said gap would be enough for what he had in mind.