CHAPTER 24: STING OPERATION

Back in the woods, Micha’el paused.

A single leaf fell before him, brushing the side of his cheek. He blinked.

The silence behind him was unsettling.

The forest was never this quiet.

He turned slightly, his hand brushing the hilt of Vael’turien. His grip tightened.

Not far behind him, the White Fang drew in a slow, deliberate breath—its fangs still stained crimson, its gaze locked onto the elf who had unknowingly stepped into its hunt.

But this time, it wasn’t alone. Shadows shifted behind it—more figures emerging between the trees, silent and deadly. The Alpha had brought its pack.

For too long, the elves had hunted its kin. Now, it was their turn to feel the bite of vengeance.

Meanwhile, on the eastern edge of Aetherthorn, a blur of panic and poor decisions darted between tree trunks—Auren, sprinting like a madman, while massive bee stingers rained from the sky like divine punishment.

"AAAAAAAAH! I KNEW THIS WAS A STUPID IDEA!" Auren screamed, flailing like a man being chased by flying javelins—which, to be fair, he was. He dove behind a root just in time as a one-meter-long stinger slammed into the ground where his head had been a second earlier.Thankfully, his sharpened instincts—and his [TIGER FOCUS] skill—were doing the dodging, because his brain had fully checked out.

Above him buzzed a furious swarm of Needlewings—giant, red, murder-hornet abominations with stingers longer than spears. Easily a hundred of them were after his blood.

"You said it was safe!" Auren hollered, zigzagging like a drunk squirrel. "You said, ’Oh it’s just a flower, they won’t even notice!’"

From within his mind, Bigbird, the phoenix spirit, replied with the tone of someone deeply regretting a soul pact."Excuse me?! I said you could TAKE the flower—not rob a freaking death hive at brunch time!"

In Auren’s trembling hands was the culprit: a radiant, red-glowing orchid, its petals curled like embers—the legendary Orchadium. Rare. Priceless. Magical. And apparently, bee crack.

"We needed it!" Auren hissed between wheezes. "This thing boosts mana and constitution! My internal organs are hanging on by hope and sarcasm!"

"And now so is your life!" Bigbird snapped. "Congratulations—you stole the sacred poop-flower of the most territorial bugs in the forest!"

"Do you have any helpful ideas at all?" Auren ducked under a branch, tumbling into a patch of moss before springing back up with a whimper. "Besides reminding me what an idiot I am?!"

"Yes. Die quieter. Maybe they’ll sting you less."

"Screw you, featherball! You’re supposed to be my spiritual guide, not my roastmaster!"

The buzzing was getting louder. The swarm had truly committed to ending this elf’s existence. Auren’s boots flared with speed-enhancing magic, but even with enchanted kicks, he was barely staying ahead of the angry Needlewings air force.

"Fire’s useless, there’s too many, and I’m out of mana potions!" Auren panted as he ducked under a low-hanging branch, a one-meter-long stinger stabbing into the ground just behind him with a heavy THUNK.

"I’m basically a protein bar with legs right now!"

"Technically, you’re more like a spicy meat snack," Bigbird muttered in his mind, voice calm but tinged with sarcasm. "A walking buffet for aerial predators. You’re really selling yourself out there."

Auren didn’t bother responding. His lungs were on fire, his legs were burning, and more importantly, the Needlewings were gaining. The massive red bees weren’t just angry—they were in full, murder-you-and-everything-you-love mode.

At least a hundred of them buzzed overhead, stingers glowing and twitching with aggression. The sound was like a swarm of dagger-wielding chainsaws.

He ducked behind a fallen log and hurled a bottle from his pack. The glass shattered in midair, releasing a dense, minty green mist.

Pooof!

The smoke drifted through the air—and the bees behind him instantly recoiled, some spinning and crashing into nearby trees.

"Was that...?" Bigbird asked, his voice perking up slightly.

"Paralysis smoke bomb," Auren wheezed. "Made it for Night Stalkers. Never used it... until now."

"Adaptable," the phoenix replied, approving but dry. "Pity your plans usually start after everything’s already on fire."

It had been his last one. Out of five.

The first four had gone off during the initial charge. While they took out a few of the charging Needlewings, it wasn’t nearly enough. The rest either tanked the effects or simply flew above it.

He’d also brought two paralyzing potions, courtesy of Robert. One as the real thing. The other as a backup—just in case he dropped the first.

Which, of course, he had.

"Fire-resistant bugs," Auren muttered. "Immune to paralysis. Smarter than me. What else could go wrong?"

"Well," Bigbird began mildly, "You could drop the flower and save yourself."

"Not happening."

"Of course not. Why avoid death when you can clutch a glowing death beacon like a newborn child?"

Auren clutched the Orchadium tighter. The red orchid pulsed in his hands, its glow vibrant and warm. It was rare, valuable, and vital for a potion that could expand his mana pool and enhance his constitution. He had to get it.

And unfortunately, it only grew in the one place the Needlewings claimed as sacred—a place fertilized by their own, well... excretions.

"Stupid bees. Stupid flower. Stupid forest. Stupid me," Auren grumbled as he sprinted harder.

His legs pumped, but the buzzing was closing in fast. That paralysis bomb had only bought him a few seconds, and he had burned through nearly everything else.

Suddenly, he turned a corner— and before long, stopped dead.

"...Oh, come on."

He’d run straight into a dead end—towering walls of stone and tangled tree roots loomed nearly thirty meters high, hemming him in on all sides. The only path left was up. Turning back would mean sprinting straight into the jaws—and stingers—of death.

"Sh*t. Bad turn," Auren muttered.

He scanned the vertical surface. His MJ Booster Boots could launch him about ten meters straight up. But that would still leave him with twenty to go—and no margin for error.

"This is not good," he muttered.

"I assume ’panic wildly’ is the plan?" Bigbird offered helpfully.

"No. We’re doing the wall jump."

"You mean the move you failed in training three out of four times?"

"Optimism, Bigbird. You’re supposed to inspire me."

"I’m merely managing your expectations, Master."

"Thank’s a not."

Auren took a few steps back, then sprinted straight at the wall. His boots flared. He leapt from rock to root to tiny ledge, zigzagging upward like a caffeinated squirrel. When he reached the end of each jump, he gave the boosters a burst, catching the next ledge.

Ten meters. Fifteen. Almost—

CRACK.

One of the rocky footholds broke off mid-jump. Auren’s foot slipped.

"Sh*t—!"

He slammed into the wall, bounced back, and crashed to the ground in a bruised heap.

THUD!

"Master!" Bigbird called out. "Are you okay?"

Auren groaned and rolled over. "What does it look like?"

He sat up and winced. His shoulder ached, and his arm was scraped raw. But nothing was broken—yet. He fished out a green healing potion, popped the cork with his teeth, and drank it in one go. Warmth spread through his limbs, dulling the pain and started healing his internal injuries.

Then he heard it—the buzzing again. Louder this time. Closer. Much closer. Auren clenched his jaw and pushed himself upright.

"Again. We’re doing it again."

"Respectfully, master," Bigbird murmured, "are we really repeating the thing that almost killed you?"

"Would you rather I die standing here?"

"I’d rather you use that," the phoenix said carefully. "You could wipe them all out in one move."

"Nope," Auren replied, brushing dirt off his knees. "Didn’t even use it against that white beast. Not wasting it on a bunch of bees. Besides," Auren added, glancing over his shoulder, "I’ve got no one to drag my half-dead body around when the aftereffects kick in."

He scanned the rock wall again, eyes narrowing, mentally mapping out a path. His body ached, but his resolve hardened.

"Just trust me, Bigbird. We’ve got this."

Without another word, he sprinted forward, retracing the wall run. At the fifteen-meter mark, he kicked the MJ boosters into full force—fwoooosh—blasting upward in a streak of heat and sparks while draining his mana reserves rapidly.

But behind him, the bees were waiting.

Their stingers glowed, raised and aimed towards the fleeing human.

Auren saw them. He knew what was coming.

"Not good. Not good. Not good!"

He pointed his hands downward and started casting.

"Not today!"

[FIREBALL]

[FIREBALL]

[FIREBALL]

...

One after another, balls of flame exploded beneath him—each blast launching him higher while stunning the bees swarming below.

The chain of mini-explosions created a vertical shockwave, boosting him the last few meters until he flipped over the ledge and collapsed in a gasping heap.

Behind him, flames crackled and trees trembled as the swarm shrieked in confusion, the blast echoing louder through the tight, enclosed space.

Animals from nearby thickets scattered, startled by the noise.

Auren stood up and raised one trembling fist into the air.

"I! Am! A! Geniuuuuussssss..."

Then the next moment, collapsed face-first into the moss.

"...oh crap," he mumbled into the dirt. "Mana crash... I forgot about this."

His limbs went heavy. His vision tunneled.

"You’ve pushed too far again, master!" Bigbird muttered, not unkindly.

"Was worth it..." Auren whispered.

"No, it wasn’t. Because pretty soon, they would be coming back for you."

Auren couldn’t reply. He was barely conscious.

He could hear the Needlewings. They were circling again. Recovering. Angry. Closer.

He rolled over weakly and saw the glow of stingers on the rise.

They’d seen him collapse and he is an easy target.

Then—

A familiar voice cut through the air.

"Stay down, Auren!"

A second later:

[LUNE BREAK]

THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.

Three luminous arrows tore through the air, passing over Auren’s motionless body.

Each arrow struck like a divine strike—piercing straight through seven bees in one line, leaving trails of shimmering blue light behind them.

The swarm shrieked again—but this time in fear.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Dead Needlewings rained from the sky. Their sisters hovered uncertainly, stingers raised—then backed away.

They knew when a predator was stronger than them.

Without another sound, they turned and fled, vanishing into the depths of the forest—after all, their lives were worth far more than a glowing orchid.

Silence returned.

Auren lay motionless, but a grin curled on his lips.

He knew that familiar voice.

It was the only person who ever showed up when he needed saving. The only friend in this gods-forsaken forest who never let him down.

"Jaira..." he whispered.

And then he passed out.