CHAPTER 151: RESTOCK

But once again, the Rock Strider moved with that same impossible swiftness, its body blurring as though the air itself carried it out of harm’s way.

The arrow sailed past harmlessly, burying itself deep into the soil below.

Then the beast gave a low, guttural screech, its feathers bristling as if insulted by the attack, and then it lunged forward with terrifying force.

Its talons slammed into the trunk of the tree where Zarah stood.

BOOM!

The impact cracked through the forest like thunder. Bark split and scattered in jagged fragments, the gouges carved by its claws deep enough to reveal pale wood beneath. The sheer power behind the strike was enough to send a tremor shuddering up the trunk, rattling every branch above.

Zarah wavered where she stood, her balance slipping as the branch shook violently beneath her boots. She dropped into a crouch, steadying herself with one hand against the bark, her bow still clutched in the other.

The Rock Strider let out another sharp cry, its head jerking back before it took several deliberate steps away from the tree. Then, without pause, it surged forward once more, its massive leg whipping out in another savage kick.

The sound of splintering wood cracked the air as a deep dent appeared in the trunk, larger than before.

The tree groaned under the force, its roots straining as though one more blow might be enough to bring the entire thing crashing down.

Then the Rock Strider did something unexpected.

It spread one wing outward, not to take flight, but to use as leverage. Planting its talons against the thick feathered limb, it balanced almost unnaturally, like it was standing on a living platform of its own body. From there, its other massive leg lashed out again and again, striking the trunk in a flurry of rapid kicks so fast they blurred before my eyes.

The sound was deafening.

CRACK—CRACK—CRACK!

In an instant, the tree’s structure gave way, splintering under the sheer brutality of the assault. The top half groaned, tilted, and then collapsed, crashing down toward the forest floor with a thunderous impact that sent birds scattering from nearby canopies.

Zarah, however, was quicker than the fall. She launched herself from the collapsing trunk, catching hold of a neighboring tree before climbing to a higher branch with a desperate, practiced agility. Her bow was already in her hands, an arrow nocked, but she barely had a second to draw a bead on the monster before it was there again.

The Rock Strider bounded onto the new tree with terrifying speed, talons biting into bark as it resumed its frenzied assault, battering the trunk with the same machine-like rhythm of kicks.

I couldn’t help but grin as I crouched from my vantage point.

So that was its tactic — breaking apart the trees one after another to flush her into the open.

Effective in theory, perhaps, but not nearly as efficient as it wanted to believe.

Against someone nimble enough to leap from branch to branch, it was wasting more energy than it was gaining.

There were plenty of trees in the area, enough for Zarah to leap from one to the next as many times as she needed. The Rock Strider would never be able to keep up with her agility for long; sooner or later, it would wear itself down.

But that didn’t mean the advantage was hers either. Every time she scrambled onto a new perch, she bought herself only a heartbeat to aim, and even then her options were limited. From above, her arrows could only rain downward, restricting her angles and making it easier for the beast to read her trajectory.

What will you do now, Zarah?

She didn’t falter. Even under the pressure of the collapsing trees and the relentless pursuit, she kept her bowstring taut, firing again and again. Her footing shook with every tremor of the tree, throwing her aim wide, yet I watched as she corrected mid-draw, forcing the arrow back on line before release. The shaft whistled through the air, its point honed toward the beast’s exposed flank.

But there was a reason this avian carried "rock" in its name.

Just as the arrow was about to bite into its flesh, the beast’s side shimmered. Stone-like plates erupted from beneath its feathers, a jagged armor snapping into place along its ribs.

CLANG!

The arrow struck hard, but instead of piercing, it shattered against the hardened surface, fragments scattering uselessly into the air.

The Rock Strider let out a shrill cry, its beady eyes flashing as though mocking the effort.

Zarah sucked in her teeth, frustration etched across her face.

Still, she didn’t falter. She pulled more arrows from her quiver and nocked them with practiced speed, though I noticed the bundle was thinning fast.

She was running low. Too low.

I felt a knot tighten in my chest.

I needed to get her more, and I had them — plenty, in fact — but they were back at the cave. I’d already unloaded everything from my inventory earlier, dumping the spare weapons and arrows we’d scavenged from Amon’s goblin into storage with the rest of our crude supplies. Now they were out of reach, and that decision was coming back to bite me.

The thought pressed heavily against me: I’d have to leave her here to fetch them. But could I? Should I?

Could she really hold her own against this thing long enough without me watching her back?

As if to answer, she loosed another shot.

The arrow cut through the air, true to its mark — but the Rock Strider’s body blurred once more, slipping aside with that uncanny speed.

The shaft struck uselessly into the dirt, quivering as the beast’s shrill caw echoed through the clearing.

Only two arrows left.

That was a dangerous number, far too low with a beast like this still pressing her. If the Rock Strider managed to corner her now, it could very well be the end.

A thought clawed at me — should I just pull her out, take her with me to the cave, let her re-equip, and then bring her back to finish what she started? It was the most practical solution. But when I glanced at her again, Zarah’s eyes snapped toward me with a glare sharp enough to cut through the distance. The look was clear as words: Do not butt in.

Yeah... I doubted she’d forgive me if I interrupted now.

Besides, fetching arrows wouldn’t take hours, not with warp. The risk was more in leaving her alone, even briefly. My gut twisted, but hesitation would only waste precious seconds.

Without giving myself room to overthink, I warped.

The world folded and snapped back, and I found myself inside the cave, hurrying to the pile where we’d gathered weapons and supplies. The moment I appeared, several of my clan members turned toward me, confusion flickering across their faces at my sudden arrival.

I ignored their looks, reaching straight for a quiver filled with arrows.

My fingers closed around the leather strap, lifting it free.

And just as I was about to warp back—

Flogga’s voice cut across, questioning:

"Where is Zarah?"

"Battling a scary-looking level twelve ostrich," I answered without hesitation, flashing a grin that didn’t quite match the weight in my chest.

"She’ll be fine. She just ran out of arrows."

Her eyes widened, confusion colliding with the first traces of worry as she tried to process my words, but I didn’t linger long enough to explain.

In the next breath, I blinked out of the cave, savoring the stunned expression on her face as I vanished.

The forest snapped back into view, and my eyes immediately swept the clearing. But Zarah wasn’t where she should have been. She wasn’t anywhere.

My chest tightened. A cold rush of dread surged through me, my pulse pounding faster as the thought struck hard and merciless: Was she dead?

I forced my gaze downward, and there was the Rock Strider, its talons carving restless gouges into the earth as it twisted its head left and right, clearly agitated. It wasn’t feeding. It wasn’t retreating. It was searching, furious that its prey had slipped out of reach.

Then, above, a faint rustle caught my ear.

I tilted my head up, and relief broke over me like air after drowning.

Zarah was there, pressed low among the leaves of a high branch, her form blending with the canopy as she hid, watching the beast with cautious eyes.

I let out a long breath, relief washing through me in a heavy exhale I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Then, almost immediately, I caught myself questioning it.

How did I get this worried so quickly? Did I honestly think she’d die within two minutes of me leaving her alone?

The thought was absurd, and yet it had gripped me like a vice.

I felt like some overbearing mother hen fussing over her chicks.

A laugh slipped out, quiet but edged with self-mockery, as I shook my head at my own unnecessary panic.

From her perch above, Zarah looked composed, not desperate.

She must have realized wasting arrows against that stone hide was pointless, so she’d done the smart thing: gone to ground—or rather, to the branches.

She was waiting for her moment, preparing to catch the bird in a vulnerable position, perhaps when it was walking away, before loosing another shot.

But I wasn’t convinced it would matter. Not entirely.

From what I had observed, the Rock Strider’s armor wasn’t something it consciously called upon.

The way its feathers hardened, shifting into jagged stone just as an arrow neared, felt too seamless, too reflexive.

It was...