392 The Spriggan
Emilio found himself surprised but even more confused that the deceitful creature before him was not the one responsible for the desolated city. Though it was possible it could be lying, there was simply no explanation he could think of for why the disgusting monster would.
“If that’s the case, you’re just small fry, then. I need to deal with you and move on,” Emilio said as his magical pressure rose.
It was unfortunate that the sole companion he had in the foreign land turned out to be nothing more than a monstrosity puppeting a corpse, but such was the way of an adventurer: he was able to think rationally and focus.
“Arrogant human. The soil of the Scarlet Forest is my flesh, the vines are my veins, the trees are my limbs–an ignorant human like you would not be aware of my legend! For centuries, I’ve lured the ignorant into the depths of my forest–feeding on their flesh and assimilating it,” the grass-skinned creature roared, “–I am a Devil Spriggan! A ruler of the crust which you walk!”
With the sudden rage of the body-snatching, moss-layered figure, the entirety of the forest seemed to come alive as the bleeding roses shuttered and the grass itself vibrated with a chattering hum.
Emilio instantly recognized what it was now as the clothes fell from the dreadful monster’s body and it revealed itself–a “Devil Spriggan”. The figure had a humanoid-shaped body, though made of twigs and moss, with bloomed roses across its body, bleeding out the crimson fluid as wooden horns left its head.
‘…A Devil Spriggan? I’ve read about this!’ He thought.
[“Spriggans inhabit both Milligarde and Vasmoria; humanoid creatures with branch-like limbs and bodies blossoming with flowers and luscious grass, born of nature itself. While mostly peaceful towards humans and other creatures, they will become hostile if the land they watch over is harmed.
However, Devil Spriggans are a different case altogether.
These horned spriggans that inhabit the Continent of Demons tyrannically rule the forests they inhabit and bend it to their rule, contorting beautiful lands into horrific sceneries which specialize in luring and assimilating other creatures. They are incredibly hostile and deceitful creatures.”]
From multiple directions, thorny vines whipped around, either to eviscerate or bind him, though he quickly reacted with a wave of his hand, casting a wave of fire around him that repelled the malicious nature.
“Nnngrh…!” The Devil Spriggan growled at the presence of flames.
What he read as anger was quickly proven wrong as he witnessed the malignant spriggan wave its arms, commanding the forest around him as roots were unearthed from the soil around him.
‘It has complete control–?’ He questioned.
The ring of fire he had created was swallowed up by unknown, gray-petaled flowers that sprouted from the ground, turning the blaze into cinder before the army of roots swept towards Emilio.
As he leapt back, he witnessed the massive roots tunneling through the soil in front of him with utmost aggression, coming at him from the sides as well as he stopped for just a second.
Remaining calm, he allowed the roots to get close before he swiped his sword, using it as a catalyst for the scathing wind he unleashed that mimicked dozens of sword slashes in an instant: “Unseen Blade of The Winds.”
The thick, thorn-layered roots were sliced apart before they could reach him, even carving up the ground around him in the process as the wind shrieked from the precise ability. It was a spell created with the basis for it being inspired by his final foe from his escape in the After–a mimicry of that mystical halberd movement.
Even after decimating the roots, he still found himself not freed from the wrath of the Scarlet Forest as he heard bushes rustling all around him before–BZZZZ.
The ear-filling sound of insects flying slammed against his ears as he found palm-sized, bright-red locusts swarming him from all around.
‘Bugs? Please,’ he thought.
In his left hand, he manifested a fire spell in the form of a flame-formed lasso, allowing it to wrap around his wrist before he began whipping it around him, allowing its blazing reach to strike through the hordes of locust, however–
‘Uh-oh,’ he thought.
He could feel it as soon as the flaming lasso made contact with the locusts: the mana was being siphoned, or more aptly, converted.
After sweeping the mystical lasso through the hordes of flying insects, he witnessed their size multiple a half-dozen times, now becoming the size of large dogs, but numbering in the dozens as they completely surrounded him.
‘They feed on mana? Or is it just fire? Do I want to test that?’ He questioned.
Either way, he didn’t have long to choose before he was forced to act–ducking down as a locust attempted to bite onto his head before splitting it in half as he dragged his blade through its body.
The shriek of the enlarged insect pounded his ears, though it didn’t stop him as he used his superior physical abilities to guide his sword through the mana-eating locusts. Even if they had grown larger, they were still insects; lacking intellect or threatening abilities.
It was a difficult environment to fight in though; the ground he moved across continuously crumbled in the way of thrashing roots or shook violently in an attempt to throw him off his balance. As he cleaved his sword straight through the midsection of an oversized locust, his focus swerved over to one question:
‘Where is he?’ He thought.
As he speculated the location of the malevolent being who wove the blitz of roots and locusts in the first place, he immediately spun around and gripped his sword with both hands, unleashing a slash of his blade that was imbued with a flash of fire: “Cinder Strike.”
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“Nnrah!” The Devil Spriggan let out in pain.
Though he had left a gash on the bark flesh of the spriggan, the flames he had bathed it in were siphoned by the roses on its body.
“Adventurers like you are a challenge, but the mana…the mana that flows through your veins will be a delicacy when I consume you!” The Devil Spriggan said before spreading its limbs.
The scarlet roses that bloomed from its body had what resembled bright-red veins stretched across their petals, shuttering violently before–FWOOSH.
“–!”
He barely dodged it by moving his head to the side: a highly-pressurized beam of crimson liquid shot from one of the veiny roses on the spriggan’s body. Every rose on its body released this fast, scathing liquid as they shot in every direction, cutting through the sturdy bark of old trees and stone alike.
Emilio conjured a wall of stone in front of himself with a raise of his hand, though it didn’t last long as it began melting away as if the rocky form of the barrier was resolved to nothing more than mud.
‘An anti-magic property? Maybe,’ he considered.
Being forced to evade the reach of the all-out, unaimed beams of blood as the Devil Spriggan yelled out, continuing to enlarge the blooming roses all over its body, he attempted to summon the draconic power within him to aid his physical endeavors.
[–]
It was blank. That fiery sensation that lived within the depths of his being that he always called upon did not listen to his will; though he could feel the power of the System still amplifying him naturally, it would not activate in full.
‘My System isn’t activating? Now of all times?’ He realized.
Though it was concerning to not have the full strength of the Dragonheart System responding to his call, for the moment, he had to push on as he was forced to continue dodging. He flipped around, imbuing himself with a spell to somewhat make up for the lack of draconic power.
The subtle wind encircled his body like a protective veil, granting him swiftness and a deterrent if the blood beams got too close, repelling them: “Cloak of The Free”.
‘I need to get close–if it can cut through magic easily, I’ll need to cut it down,’ he planned.
It was easier said than done though to reach the Devil Spriggan who warped the Scarlet Forest to its will; locusts intercepted him as he tried to get close, cutting through the insects before having to duck and flip over the crimson beams.
“Tch–!”
He had to leap up just as the ground beneath him shattered; the soil parted as a dozen of spiked roots lunged towards him like the ungodly fingers of the accursed forest. He momentarily tossed his sword into his left hand before rearing his metallic arm back, allowing the essence of fire to flood itself through his artificial limb.
“Rah!”
While facing downward after having leapt up, he slammed his palm down as he unleashed a projection of his own hand, forged of swift, decimating fire that crushed and burned away the roots below. An imprint the size of an acre had been left on the Scarlet Forest; a palm-shaped crater that charred foliage.