Their boots crunched against packed dirt as they walked silently, their breaths steady but their nerves taut. Lucia padded ahead in her wolf form, ears flicking at unseen sounds within the walls of foliage.
The first twenty minutes passed uneventfully. At first, they moved cautiously, half-expecting something to lunge at them from the dark corners. But when nothing came, urgency took over, and they picked up the pace. Every second wasted was another second Cressa slipped closer to death.
Asil wiped sweat from her brow, exhaling through her nose. Something was… off. Too quiet. Too still. A creeping sense of unease itched at the back of her mind, a feeling that the maze was watching them.
“We’re making progress, right?” Abby asked, keeping her voice low.
“Maybe,” Asil admitted. “But I don’t like this. It’s—”
Lucia suddenly stopped, muscles tensing. A low growl rumbled from her throat.
Something moved ahead.
The shadows flickered unnaturally before three hulking figures stepped into view, their elongated limbs curling with dark energy. Each one twisted and unnatural—charcoal-black skin rippling like smoke over sinew, jagged spines protruding from their backs. Their eyes burned like embers in the gloom, their lips peeling into hungry grins.
Lesser Demons (Level 12) x3
Abby tensed, gripping her daggers. “We’ve got company.”
Asil unsheathed Loren’s Gift, her enhanced blade humming faintly with power. “Good. I was starting to get bored.”
The demons lunged.
One of the demons launched forward, its clawed hand raking toward Asil’s chest. She sidestepped, activating Phantom Step to blink just out of reach, reappearing at its side with a whirling slash. Blade Storm ignited, her sword wreathed in flickering flame as she spun, slicing through the demon’s exposed flank. It screeched, black ichor spilling onto the dirt but remained standing.
The second demon went for Abby, its grotesque mouth splitting open with a snarling hiss. She disappeared into Shadow Meld, slipping behind it before it could react. The moment its clawed hand slashed at empty air, Abby reappeared behind its back, jamming one of her poisoned daggers into its spine. Rotfang’s venom spread instantly, dark veins creeping along its body as it staggered, its movements sluggish.
Lucia snarled, Growl echoing through the maze, forcing the third demon’s attention onto her. She darted between its swipes, luring it into position while Asil dashed in, her sword glowing with the energy of Crescent Strike. One powerful arc of her blade severed the demon’s arm at the shoulder, sending it sprawling back with an inhuman howl.
The first demon recovered, lunging again—this time faster. Asil barely managed to raise her sword when black tendrils shot from its hands, wrapping around her forearm, sapping her stamina.
Status Effect: Wither – Stamina Drain Active
Asil gritted her teeth, feeling her energy bleed away. But before the demon could capitalize on its advantage, a volley of daggers buried themselves into its chest—Fan of Knives. Abby dashed in, her footwork fluid, and with Backstab, she drove both blades into the creature’s heart. It let out a final hissing gurgle before collapsing into the dirt, body dissolving into thick black smoke.
Lucia and Asil worked together to finish off the last demon, the wolf snapping at its legs while Asil’s Mirage Waltz left an afterimage that confused its swipes. With one final Blade Storm, Asil tore through its torso, reducing it to smoldering embers.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the sound of Asil and Abby catching their breath.
Asil wiped her blade clean, glancing down at the blackened remains of the demons. “That was satisfying.”
Abby knelt beside one of the bodies, retrieving a glowing demon core from the ashes. “Yeah, but… where the hell were they even standing?”
Lucia let out a whimper, ears flat.
Asil frowned, scanning the path ahead. Behind where the demons had been was nothing but a solid dead-end—a towering wall of unmoving hedges.
“What the—” Abby turned, only to freeze.
The path they’d just come from—the one they knew they had walked through—was also gone.
A new passage stretched before them instead, splitting into two directions: left and right.
Abby’s grip on her daggers tightened. “…Tell me I’m not losing it.”
“You’re not,” Asil murmured. Her worst suspicion had just been confirmed.
The maze was shifting.
And it had just rewritten their path.
The moment Asil turned down the next leftward path, she felt the first prickling sensation of unease. Abby noticed it too—the way the hedge walls seemed impossibly tall now, the oppressive silence stretching between each footstep. They had already backtracked multiple times, and the maze shifted each time without a single sound or tremor. It was toying with them.
But there was no other option. They continued forward, another left, then another—until, once again, a dead end.
Asil exhaled sharply through her nose, jaw tightening. When she turned back, the corridor behind them—where they had just come from—was gone. A solid wall of twisting brambles blocked their path, thick and impassable.
"We're trapped," Abby muttered, daggers clenched tight. "This isn't just shifting corridors anymore. It's locking us in."
A growl of frustration rumbled in Asil’s chest. Without thinking, she raised her sword and swung at the wall, hoping to carve out a way through. The moment her blade bit into the hedge, something snapped forward. A thick, living branch whipped out, coiling around her sword with unnatural speed.
"What the—?!"
The branch twisted sharply, yanking the weapon from Asil’s grip. Her blade clattered to the dirt, just out of reach. Then, from within the hedge itself, a shape began to form.
No—three shapes.
They pulled themselves free from the brambles, their bodies made entirely of tangled vines and thorned branches. Humanoid in form, but grotesquely elongated, with clawed fingers that dripped sap like blood. Hollow slits where eyes should be turned toward the intruders.
A pulse of magic flickered through the air, and both Asil and Abby’s journals flared with a new notification:
Dryad (Level 13) x3
The creatures wasted no time.
Lucia leapt in front of Asil with a vicious snarl, her hackles raised as she lunged at the nearest Dryad. The creature didn’t flinch, instead raking a thorn-covered claw across Lucia’s side. The wolf yelped but didn’t falter, activating Hide in an instant, causing her body to blur into a spectral shimmer.
Even invisible, the Dryads didn't hesitate—they struck wildly at the air where Lucia had been, their claws slicing through nothingness but coming dangerously close. She had bought Asil and Abby precious seconds, but it wouldn’t last.
"Go!" Abby hissed.
Asil needed no further encouragement. She tucked and rolled between the Dryads, her breath catching as the thorns scraped her arm but didn’t pierce through her armor. Her fingers closed around her fallen sword as Abby vanished into the darkness.
A second later, the familiar shhink of Backstab rang out. Abby materialized behind one of the Dryads, sinking her dagger deep into what should have been its back. The creature jerked—but instead of a fatal wound, more vines erupted from the gash, sealing it instantly.
"That’s not fair," Abby growled.
Asil slashed at the closest Dryad, hoping fire damage from her upgraded Blade Storm would do more. The sword’s flames bit into the creature’s bark-like skin, charring a portion of its arm—but just like before, the injury regenerated, more brambles twisting to replace what was lost.
The Dryads didn’t go on the defensive. They attacked relentlessly, their thorned limbs slicing through the air with terrifying precision. Both Asil and Abby barely dodged in time, rolling away to avoid the razor-sharp strikes.
"We’re not doing anything to them!" Asil gritted out, ducking under another swipe.
Abby’s eyes darted to the Dryads' feet. They’re rooted.
With every movement, each Dryad’s steps dug into the ground, tendrils extending from their heels to fuse with the maze itself. Each time one of them moved, they left behind fresh roots.
That was the key.
"Asil, the roots!" Abby shouted, flipping one of her daggers in her grip. "We don’t attack the body—we hit the feet!"
Abby activated her Poisoned Blades, coating her weapons in a toxic sheen before lunging forward. She swept low, slicing through the roots of the nearest Dryad as it attempted to step forward. The poison seeped into the tendrils, and for the first time, the creature reacted—its body convulsed, the vines at its core writhing in distress.
"It’s working!"
Asil followed suit, channeling Blade Storm, igniting her sword in a blaze of fire before hacking through the roots of the second Dryad. Unlike their bodies, the roots didn’t regenerate—the fire seared them black, the poison preventing regrowth.
Lucia reappeared from her spectral hiding, bloodied but determined. She lunged at the final Dryad, biting deep into its foot before yanking backward with all her strength. The Dryad staggered, its connection to the maze momentarily severed.
Asil and Abby didn’t waste the opportunity.
Flames and poison worked in tandem, severing the Dryads’ ability to regenerate. One by one, they collapsed, their bodies stiffening before crumbling into piles of lifeless brambles. The moment the last one fell, the walls of the maze shifted—this time not silently, but with a deep, groaning creak of wood.
Where the Dryads had stood, an opening formed, a new path stretching forward.
Asil wiped the sweat from her brow, chest heaving. "I hate this place."
Abby exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders. "Right there with you."
Lucia, panting, trotted up beside them, nudging Abby’s leg. The teenager bent down, brushing her hands through the wolf’s fur. "Good girl," she whispered. Lucia’s tail wagged weakly in response.
They exchanged one last look before stepping forward into the newly opened passage, the oppressive silence of the maze swallowing them once more.
They had won this battle—but the maze was far from finished with them.
A chime of triumph echoed in their minds. Asil wiped the sweat from her brow, chest still rising and falling from the intensity of the last battle. Their journals flickered with level-up notifications—Asil, Level 13. Abby, Level 12. Lucia, Level 10. The steady grind through the maze had not only strengthened them but rewarded them in turn.
Abby rummaged through their spoils, tallying up the growing stash. Silver and copper coins jingled softly as she deposited them into her pouch of holding. Among the loot, she examined a pair of Thorn Daggers—wicked, curved blades made from entwined brambles, their edges glistening with residual poison. Higher level than her Daggers of Vespa, but she frowned. A single test swing told her everything she needed to know—the weight was off, the balance awkward. "Not bad," she muttered, tucking them away. "But Vespa’s still my go-to."
Meanwhile, Asil inspected a handful of healing sap vials, thick golden liquid sloshing inside delicate glass containers. Without hesitation, she kneeled beside Lucia, who panted softly, her fur still damp from the last scuffle. Asil uncorked one of the vials and applied the salve to the worst of Lucia’s gashes. Almost immediately, the wolf let out a low sigh of relief as the magic-infused sap did its work. The remaining vials were safely stored—no telling what was still ahead.
They pressed on, deeper into the maze.
The path twisted and turned in unpredictable ways, the unnatural silence pressing against their ears. But the hedges were no longer passive.
Asil’s sword cleaved through another Dryad, severing its clawed hand mid-swing. The creature let out a groaning, unnatural wail as it withered, its wooden frame crumbling into lifeless bark. Abby danced around a demon, her poisoned blades striking vital points before she melted into the shadows, appearing behind another. Lucia, emboldened by her recent level-up, activated Wolf Hide, lunging at a dryad’s throat, her spectral aura making her nearly untouchable.
One battle bled into another.
A trio of lesser demons emerged from a shifting passage, their snarling voices clawing at the air as they lunged forward. Asil met their charge head-on, activating Blade Storm—her sword ignited in a torrent of fire, cutting through the first demon’s defenses like butter. Abby used Fan of Knives, the sharp steel finding home in the second demon’s joints, slowing its advance. The third, larger than the others, roared and swiped at Lucia, but the wolf expertly dodged, using Growl to pull its attention while Asil finished it with a downward Crescent Strike.
More dryads. More demons.
There was no time to dwell. Each corridor brought fresh horrors—each twist another deadly encounter. The maze was designed to wear them down, its ever-shifting paths trapping them in an endless cycle of combat.
By the time they reached another fork, their limbs ached from exhaustion. Abby’s breath was ragged, her shadow energy dangerously low. Even Asil, who had honed her endurance, felt the weight of the battles pressing on her.
That’s when the true test arrived.
The corridor widened, revealing three demons—hulking, spined creatures with elongated claws—and opposite them, three dryads, their thorn-covered bodies shifting ominously. Six enemies. One confined battlefield.
The demons struck first, lunging forward in unison. Asil met the closest with a defiant parry, her Crescent Strike countering the brute’s momentum. Sparks flew as their blades clashed. Abby flickered into the fray, Backstab piercing deep into another demon’s ribcage. It howled in fury but didn’t fall—not yet.
The dryads weren’t idle spectators. They moved in unnatural synchronization, weaving through the chaos, their clawed fingers lashing out at exposed weaknesses. One swiped at Abby, forcing her to disengage, while another lashed at Lucia, who barely dodged in time.
Lucia’s snarl deepened. With a surge of instinct, she activated Wolf Hide, her spectral glow intensifying as she slammed into a dryad’s chest, sending it sprawling.
Asil turned up the heat.
Blade Storm ignited her sword in a vortex of fire, each swing carving through both demons and dryads alike. The blaze caught on the dryads’ wooden limbs, fire crackling as they flailed in agony.
Abby took advantage. While the creatures reeled, she circled behind them, dipping into the shadows before launching into a Fan of Knives, the poisoned daggers striking home.
Lucia finished the last demon with a precise bite to its throat, ripping out the essence of its dark life force.
Finally—silence.
The three women stood in the aftermath, bloodied and panting, surrounded by the remains of their fallen foes. Their journals hummed with fresh notifications, but neither of them had the energy to check.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
They had won. But at what cost?
Asil wiped soot and demon ichor from her cheek, shaking the fatigue from her limbs. She barely noticed the fire still clinging to her sword, the heat radiating through the confined space. Abby, equally drained, stepped toward a dead-end wall, trying to gauge their next path.
Asil turned—and instinct kicked in.
"Abby, stop!" she barked, instinctively raising her blade. The flames danced across the steel as she pointed it toward Abby’s position.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, as Abby’s shadow stretched across the hedge wall, something shifted. The dead end dissolved, parting where her shadow had faded. A narrow path appeared beyond it, leading deeper into the maze.
Abby turned to Asil, stunned. "Did we just…?"
Asil frowned, lowering her sword slightly. "That wasn’t a coincidence."
They tested it again at the next dead end. Abby moved, her shadow touching the hedge. Asil raised her fiery blade—once more, the maze shifted, granting them passage.
It wasn’t perfect. Some paths remained sealed no matter what they tried. Others only reacted when both fire and shadow worked in tandem. But a pattern emerged.
The maze wasn’t shifting against them anymore.
They were controlling it.
With cautious excitement, they moved through the corridors, carefully triggering the hidden passages. A sense of momentum built as they carved their way forward, dodging more enemies and outmaneuvering the maze’s twisted logic.
Then—suddenly—the hedge walls parted, revealing an open clearing.
Asil stepped forward, heart pounding. "We made it."
The corridor behind them sealed shut.
For the first time, they found themselves in a space not confined by winding passages. A single object sat in the middle of the clearing—a magnificent chest, adorned with intricate carvings and brimming with an aura of power.
Abby exhaled, shaking off the last remnants of exhaustion. "This has to be it. The center of the maze."
Lucia sniffed the air cautiously, ears flicking back. Asil’s grip tightened on her sword, but something inside her already knew—this was what they came for.
Without hesitation, she strode forward, placing both hands on the chest’s lid. The weight of their journey pressed on her, but she had no doubt in her heart.
She lifted it.
The chest was empty.
The silence stretched as Asil stared at the empty chest, her hands trembling against the cool metal. She had known—known—that the center of the maze would hold their prize. She had felt it in her gut. And yet… nothing.
Adrenaline bled away, leaving only exhaustion and something worse—rage.
She refused to cry.
Asil fell to her knees, biting back a growl, her fingers curling into fists against the grass. Her pulse thundered in her ears, and with every slow breath, her fury threatened to boil over.
Beside her, Abby slumped down, letting out a quiet, broken sound. Not quite a sob, but close. The younger girl leaned back against the chest, eyes wet and distant.
Lucia padded to her side, pressing her warm body against Abby’s leg. Without thinking, the teen scratched behind the wolf’s ears, her fingers absentmindedly working through the soft fur. A moment later, Lucia shimmered, shrinking into her dachshund form, curling against Abby’s side with a low whine.
Asil clenched her jaw. Seeing Abby so vulnerable made her fury sharpen into something ugly.
They had fought through demons, dryads, twisting corridors—endured everything the maze had thrown at them. Cressa’s life depended on them finding that root. And now, at the end of it all, after leveling up, pushing through every impossible fight—
Nothing.
Asil pulled out food and drink from her pouch of holding, the perfectly preserved contents fresh as if they had just been made. She set the items down roughly, forcing herself to focus on the practical. Eat. Recover. Think.
She shoved a sandwich into Abby’s hands before taking one for herself. Even Lucia got a small bowl of cooling stew, which the little dog lapped at eagerly, her tail flicking despite the tension in the air.
The food settled their stomachs, eased some of the ache in their muscles. Even their passive healing kicked in, their stamina replenishing faster.
But it did nothing for the storm inside Asil’s chest.
She stood abruptly, pacing around the chest, her sword arm twitching with restless energy.
Abby wiped her face and sat forward, no longer crying but still visibly drained. Lucia, watched her with big, worried eyes.
Asil’s golden gaze swept the enclosed clearing. No openings. No way forward.
They had tested their fire-and-shadow trick earlier—nothing. Whatever magic had let them control the shifting walls was now useless.
The maze brought us here for a reason. There’s no way this was all for nothing.
Her teeth ground together.
"What are we missing?" she muttered, voice tight.
Abby scanned the area, her expression blank with fatigue. Asil could feel her trying to stay hopeful, but… what if there was no answer? What if the maze had just been—wrong?
The thought snapped something inside her.
Her frustration exploded.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?!"
Her shout rang out, bouncing off the hedge walls, bleeding into silence.
Then—a rustling sound.
Not from the hedges.
Slow. Unnatural. Like something shifting against itself.
Abby’s head snapped up. "Asil…"
A tree stood several feet away—a tiny sapling, no more than two feet tall.
Asil’s brow furrowed. Had that been there before?
The sapling trembled again, though there was no breeze. The air was dead still.
A shiver crawled down her spine.
She took a cautious step forward—
—the tree grew.
Not over time. Not gradually. It was just suddenly taller—now as high as her shoulders.
Asil froze.
Another heartbeat passed.
The tree grew again—now twice her height, stretching unnaturally in the still air.
Asil stepped back this time, hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword.
Abby and Lucia shifted, sensing it too. The air itself felt wrong, heavy with some unseen pressure.
Then—the tree moved.
Not just grew—moved.
The bark twisted, limbs unraveling, bending into something vaguely humanoid. It stretched, branches snapping into place as if awakening from a long slumber.
By the time it reached two stories tall, there was no doubt.
It was not a tree.
It was watching them.
Asil’s grip tightened on her sword as she slowly, carefully, drew it from its sheath. The moment the blade left its scabbard, the sapling’s transformation finished—
A monstrous Dryad towered above them, its massive frame woven from blackened vines and bark, thorns gleaming like polished obsidian.
A notification flashed across their journals—
Tree of the Uncompromised, Alpha Dryad, Level 15.
Lucia snarled, instinctively shifting back to wolf form.
Abby exhaled, her daggers glinting as she stepped into a battle stance.
Asil lifted her sword, fire already igniting along the blade.
The real challenge had just begun.
The center of the hedge maze had seemed a tranquil clearing at first glance. Low hedges and a single, gnarled tree—The Tree of the Uncompromised—rose from the earth like a harmless relic of older times. But as soon as Asil and Abby approached, the bark split with a thunderous groan, limbs twisting upward until the trunk reached twice its original height. Through jagged cracks, a dull glow sparked in what passed for eyes. Roots writhed along the ground like serpents, tearing free from the dirt.
“This is no mere tree,” Asil murmured, stepping back to give herself fighting space. The flames along her sword crackled, fierce but oddly stifled in the suffocating night. “It’s… alive.” She felt the cold sweat across her brow. Even her Blade Storm might not be enough here.
Lucia growled low, a thunderous rumble in her chest, ears pinned against her skull. She bared her fangs, ready to pounce.
Abby spun her daggers with a nervous flick, trying to keep her voice steady. “This was, like, a normal tree five seconds ago. Now it’s a freaking boss monster. Why am I not surprised?”
The monstrous dryad lurched forward. It didn’t move like a living being; it jerked, limbs stretching far too fast, carrying it across the clearing in a single shuddering motion.
Asil met the charge head-on, forging a blazing Crescent Strike that arced across the dryad’s torso. Fire bit into the bark, leaving a scorched line in its wake. For an instant, the dryad reeled.
Then the wound sealed itself, vines knitting together seamlessly.
“Aw, come on!” Asil snarled in frustration. She rolled to the side as a vine whipped down, shattering the earth where she’d stood. “Nothing’s ever easy in this realm!”
Lucia lunged at the beast’s legs, jaws clamping on thick, twisted bark. A sickening crack rang out, and the dryad shrieked—a hollow, echoing sound that set Abby’s teeth on edge.
Abby took the opening to flicker into Shadow Meld, vanishing for a heartbeat before reappearing behind the creature’s spine. She stabbed both Daggers of Vespa deep—
But the blow had no effect. The wood simply re-formed, almost welcoming the blades into its trunk.
Abby’s eyes went wide as vines lashed out and seized her wrists, yanking her into the air. “Asil—!” she managed, before the dryad flung her across the clearing. She crashed into the hedge wall, pain exploding across her back.
Asil turned at once, alarm spiking in her chest. “Abby!” she shouted.
“I’m…fine,” Abby groaned, staggering up. “That sucked, though.”
The dryad moved again, a horrifying jerk that sent three thorned branches slashing at Asil simultaneously. She twisted away, tapping Phantom Step to blink ten feet just before a jagged spear of wood sank into the earth at her feet.
“It doesn’t go down,” Abby muttered through gritted teeth, already darting to another flank. “What’s the trick? There’s gotta be a trick.”
Attacking the roots as they did with the weaker dryads did not work, for they reformed faster than they could destroy them.
Lucia snarled, bounding beneath a swinging limb. But the battle dragged on, each new wound healing in an instant, every severed piece growing back more gnarled. Try as they might, the trio couldn’t force it to yield. Exhaustion etched into Asil’s shoulders. Her stamina and conjured flames were dwindling, and Abby’s illusions barely bought them seconds of reprieve.
Finally, the dryad retaliated with brutal speed. A thorned branch hammered into Lucia’s rib cage, flinging her sideways in a yelp of agony. She landed in a heap, unmoving.
“Lucia—!” Asil’s heart seized. Distracted, she failed to notice a thick limb arcing for her own chest. It slammed into her, lifting her bodily into the air. She had barely a moment to register the impact before she crashed to the ground, sword skittering away. A wave of darkness pressed in around her senses.
Abby’s scream caught in her throat. She was alone now. Her mind raced, fury and terror mixing in a dizzy swirl. The dryad lurched forward once more, ancient bark knitting up every scratch. Drips of greenish sap spattered where Lucia had clawed it, but it was already sealing shut. The air reeked of decay and twisted magic.
Abby panted, arms shaking from the relentless onslaught. Her daggers had been knocked from her hands—one lying just out of reach. Her shoulder bled freely from a jagged branch that had ripped through her flesh. She was on the verge of collapse, but she refused to give in.
Remembering the initial dryad trio they defeated, she dug the pair of thorn daggers she’d looted from that encounter, untested until now. A wild thought surged in her mind: Poison. She had some leftover Rotfang Venom, a slow-acting but potent toxin.
The dryad sensed her weakness and advanced. She could feel the ominous hush as it prepared another lethal strike. Summoning her last reserves of adrenaline, Abby coated the thorn daggers in venom. She bit back a cry from the pain in her shoulder, forcing her body to move.
In a desperate roll, she evaded the dryad’s downward smash. As she slid beneath its rootlike trunk, she slashed upward with both venom-laced daggers. A blackish corruption spread across the bark, sizzling through even the creature’s unnaturally fast healing. The monster screeched in genuine pain for the first time, stumbling back.
Abby’s vision blurred with exhaustion, but she pressed every advantage, hacking again at the main roots. Where the daggers struck, the wood blackened and shriveled. The dryad shrieked louder, an otherworldly cry of pure agony. Its body lurched, vines recoiling from the rot. She could barely stand, her legs trembling, her lungs burning for air.
At last, the towering creature reeled, limbs fusing into a final spear, determined to deliver a deathblow. Abby’s arms felt like lead. She had no more illusions left, no stealth. Her entire body wobbled as she tried to lift her weapon for one last strike. The dryad lunged—
And disintegrated in a rush of rotting bark and foul-smelling ash.
Abby stumbled, half-laughing, half-crying. She didn’t need her journal to confirm the kill. The monstrous hush of the clearing told her they’d won—barely.
She dropped the thorn daggers and crawled toward Asil, heart pounding in her ears. Asil lay in a heap, unbreathing. Abby forced a bit of healing sap from her pack between Asil’s lips, praying for a reaction. The world spun in a nauseating swirl of black and red. For a painful moment, nothing happened. Then, a strangled cough—Asil inhaled sharply, eyelids fluttering open.
Abby stifled a sob. “Oh gods… Asil…”
She turned next to Lucia. The wolf lay frighteningly still, ribs cracked. Abby did the same with the sap, pressing it into Lucia’s muzzle, coaxing her to swallow. Seconds ticked by with no sign of revival.
“No, no, no…” Abby repeated, voice cracking. She sank over Lucia’s body, tears spilling, fear hollowing her out. Then she felt a faint stir against her cheek. Lucia’s paw twitched. With a shuddering sigh, the wolf’s eyes opened, a weak little whine escaping her throat. Her form shimmered into a dachshund’s silhouette, the small shape trembling but miraculously alive, shifting forms almost healed the small beast instantaneously, but left Lucia incredibly weak.
Abby pulled the dog into her arms, relief overwhelming every sense. Asil propped herself up groggily, her chest still tight with pain. She reached out to steady Abby’s shoulder.
“Took you… long enough,” Asil croaked, attempting a shaky smile.
Abby couldn’t speak, tears mixing with laughter as she hugged Lucia close. Across the clearing, the final remnants of the dryad’s body fell in pieces, dissolving into damp earth. Abby’s journal buzzed with new notifications—Quest Update, Level Gains—but she ignored them for now.
They had survived, if only barely. And though battered, they had the key item: the root that lay half-buried among the ashen remains. Reclaiming it meant saving Cressa’s life.
Yet as they caught their breath, gloom still hung around them.
Asil sat up slowly, her body still aching from the battle. She reached into her pouch of holding and pulled out a set of water casks, tossing one to Abby before drinking deeply from her own. The cool liquid soothed her burning throat, washing away the taste of blood and exhaustion.
Lucia, still in dachshund form, let out a small whine. Asil tipped her cask, letting a trickle of water spill onto her outstretched palm. The pup lapped it up greedily, tail wagging weakly.
Then, without warning—
The maze collapsed.
The towering hedges that had ensnared them for hours crumbled into nothing, vines withering away as if they had never existed. A gust of wind stirred the dust where the once-imposing labyrinth had stood. Asil, Abby, and Lucia now found themselves in a quiet, open courtyard.
Beyond them, Fort Warren’s main gates stood wide open.
Abby, still catching her breath, looked around in disbelief. The distance was impossibly short—as if the entire maze had folded in on itself, condensing into the space of a simple courtyard.
Abby’s gaze dropped to the earth. The only trace of the Tree of the Uncompromised was a single, twisted root, protruding from the dirt.
She exhaled sharply and crouched down, wrapping her fingers around the gnarled thing. A simple notification blinked in her journal.
Root from the Tree of the Uncompromised
That was it. No flourish, no fanfare. Just a handful of words.
She clenched her jaw and shoved the root into her pouch before turning to find Asil.
Her friend was standing at the entrance of the fort. Still. Silent. Staring.
"Asil?" Abby called.
No response.
She took a step closer. "Asil!" This time, her voice was sharp with urgency.
Still, Asil didn’t move—except for one slow gesture. She lifted a hand and pointed toward something on the wooden doors of Fort Warren.
Abby turned her head. The sorceress Vee had spoken the truth—the way out was open. But that wasn’t what had Asil frozen in place.
"Asil, we need to get back," Abby said, concern creeping into her voice.
Her friend didn’t budge. Didn’t even blink.
Abby felt a deep unease settle into her stomach. Asil wasn’t ignoring her. She was somewhere else entirely, locked in whatever thought had taken hold.
Abby clenched her jaw. She'd push her forward if she couldn’t pull Asil away from this.
"Lucia. Wolf form," Abby commanded.
The tiny dachshund beside her shimmered, shifting seamlessly back into her majestic wolf form, her silvery fur bristling. She padded toward Abby, ears flicking forward.
Abby swallowed hard. She already knew what had to happen next.
Pulling the root from her pouch, she retrieved a strip of cloth and carefully secured it to Lucia’s front leg. She gave it a firm tug, testing the knot.
"Take this back to Cressa," she said.
Lucia lowered her head in acknowledgment, muscles tensing as she prepared to bolt—
But then she hesitated.
Instead of running, the wolf turned back and looked between Abby and Asil. Then her gaze settled fully on Asil, and she let out a low, uncertain whine.
Lucia knew.
She knew the same thing Abby did.
Once they stepped inside Fort Warren, the gate would close behind them. There would be no turning back.
Abby’s throat tightened.
Taking Lucia’s muzzle in both hands, she lowered herself so she could look the wolf directly in the eyes.
"We can take it from here, sweet girl," she murmured, voice trembling. "Cressa needs you. You can join us after she gets the root."
The lie sat heavy on her tongue.
Lucia stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a soft, understanding growl, she nuzzled Abby’s cheek one last time before turning toward the open courtyard.
She paused at the edge, casting one last look at Asil.
Then, like a silver streak, she was gone.
Abby wiped the tears from her eyes and turned toward her friend.
Asil was still staring at the door.
Abby walked up the stone steps and stopped beside her.
And then she saw it.
Letters.
Carved deep into the ancient wood.
She traced them with her fingers, confusion knitting her brow. Slowly, she sounded them out.
"J-A-Q-O-V-H-A-R-T-S," Abby murmured.
At first, she didn’t understand. But then—
The last four letters struck her like a hammer.
H-A-R-T.
Asil’s last name.
Her stomach dropped. "Wait… what does that—?"
"Asil?"
Her friend was crying. Silent, steady tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Asil, what is it?"
Asil’s fingers lingered over the carved name, voice thick with emotion.
"Jack… of Harts," she whispered.
Abby’s breath caught in her throat.
Asil swallowed hard, composing herself just enough to speak.
"That was Jack’s gamer tag," she said hoarsely. "He always wanted something unique… something he could use across all platforms." She stopped, her breath shaking.
And then, in a whisper so soft Abby almost didn’t hear—
"That means Jack was here."