Chapter 70

By the time Nick got back on his feet, the Prelate was already engaged in a fierce battle with what seemed to be a hybrid of a wraith and a plant.A flash of purple light nearly struck him before Marthas unleashed a wave of pure energy at the creature, propelling it backward with a hiss of pain.

Nick staggered, trying to clear his mind. He still had the presence of mind to call a cocoon of wind around himself, which saved his life when a sharp root shaped like an arrow shot his way as soon as the wraith regained its balance. It was redirected just enough to avoid piercing his throat, but Nick’s air sense meant he was all too aware of how close it had come to killing him.

“Who DARES?!” Marthas roared, and a wave of flames erupted from him. It swept harmlessly through the grass and Nick, but as soon as it touched the wraith, it began screaming in pain, and its ghostly, wood-like flesh started to burn.

While he had recovered enough to cast actively, Nick knew better than to interfere now. The prelate's advance on the creature proved him right. His steps left a glassy residue behind, and Nick felt the air around him rapidly heating up.

As soon as he got close enough, Marthas reached out with a massive hand. Rather than go through the ghostly being, as one might expect, he instead grabbed hold of it, scouring its flesh with his fingers. “Servant of the Feral Gods. You will burn.”

And burn it did. A fiery glow began to emerge from within, and just a few seconds later, the creature was barely holding itself together. Cracks in its bark shone a bright orange. It was not a gentle death, but Nick didn’t care. The monster had chosen to attack him instead of the much larger, shinier target. He would have liked to know why, but for now, he’d settle for its death.

The fiery glow became overwhelming, and with a groan of tortured wood, the wraith erupted in flames, which harmlessly washed over Marthas and pushed Nick back several feet, seemingly indifferent to his wind barrier.

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Nick waited a few more moments while the prelate engaged in prayer. Once he finished, Marthas seemed to regain his affable demeanor, as if the wraith had been nothing more than a minor annoyance. Nick wasn’t quite as willing to let the matter go.

“What was that?” he asked, dropping the useless attempt at a .

“I am not a citizen of Floria, as you kindly reminded me earlier. I’m not quite familiar with the local fauna,” Marthas replied, dusting off his robe.

He let the silence linger for a few seconds, clearly expecting Nick to apologize. That wasn’t going to happen. Nick liked to think of himself as a friendly guy, but he also had his pride. He wouldn’t bow and scrape just because the man could turn him into a smear at will.

“Very well. I believe that was a Vine Wraith, a powerful spiritual monster often seen as the herald of a formidable stampede.” Marthas finally concluded, though the essence of his response sapped any enjoyment Nick might have found in it.

“There is going to be another one?” Nick felt the blood drain from his face. The last one had been bad enough. Sure, Floria was richer now, thanks to the materials and cores they obtained from the monsters, but they had barely come out unscathed, and only thanks to Arthur’s timely arrival. Without him, the town would have been lost to a single wyvern.

A larger stampede would mean disaster. Yes, they had reinforcements, but if an entire flock of wyverns attacked... Nick could hardly comprehend the devastation they could inflict. On Earth, they would have needed fighter jets to handle the situation, and even then, they would have had to keep their distance or risk being caught in the powerful winds' grasp.

A new voice entered the conversation before he could lose himself in the hypothetical. “I doubt it. When they’re without a master, the Vine Wraiths are definitely a bad omen, but this one wasn’t unbound.”

Nick turned around, surprised to see his mother walking toward them. Her neutral smile meant she was very, very mad. “Good morning, Prelate Marthas. I want to thank you for your assistance in this matter. I had to deal with a separate attack, and I would have been too late.”

Marthas turned to greet her, slightly inclining his head in acknowledgment. “Lady Elena,” he said, as smooth as ever. “It was my pleasure to help. I only wish I could have helped you too, but you were quicker than I.”

Elena’s smile didn’t falter, but Nick noticed the tension in her jaw and how her hands subtly clenched at her sides before she neatly folded them in front of her. “I appreciate your help, but I must insist that you do not involve my son in such matters again. You could have dealt with the creature without him even knowing it was there.”

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Nick winced inwardly. His mother’s tone was calm, her words measured, but they carried an edge that made him feel like a child in trouble once more. Marthas, however, seemed unperturbed. Nick wondered whether his calmness stemmed from knowing he was the most powerful person for at least a hundred miles or if he was simply built that way.

“Of course, I understand your concern,” he said. “However, your son showed remarkable composure under pressure. It's a rare quality, one that should be encouraged. You, of all people, should know how crucial it is for kids to be tested.”

Elena’s smile sharpened, but her tone remained polite. “I am fully aware of Nick’s qualities, Prelate. As his mother, I am responsible for ensuring his safety and proper development, which includes keeping him away from unnecessary dangers. Rest assured that he is not coddled.”

“Unnecessary?” Marthas tilted his head, sounding genuinely curious. “Perhaps. But danger often has a way of finding those with potential, doesn’t it? And from what I’ve seen, your son shows considerable potential.”

Nick felt his ears burn at the indirect praise, but he kept a carefully neutral expression. He knew he was being manipulated, which unfortunately didn’t make that manipulation completely ineffective.

He felt the tension rise between the two adults as they engaged in a battle of words and intentions cloaked in smiles and civility. He also knew better than to interrupt his mother when she was that mad. That was just common sense.

Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her smile froze. “Potential is meaningless without guidance and preparation. And Nick has both, right here, under my watch.”

“Of course,” Marthas said, spreading his hands in a gesture of peace. “I would never suggest otherwise. I only wish to offer my assistance, should he—or you—ever find it useful.”

Elena’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

For a moment, the two of them simply stared at each other, their polite facades firmly in place. Then Marthas chuckled softly and stepped back, breaking the standoff. “Well, I won’t intrude any further. But Nick,” he added, turning to him with a wink, “if you’re ever curious about more advanced magic, I would be delighted to share what I know. We might have some time after tomorrow’s lesson. No need to rush.”

Nick nodded stiffly, unsure of what to do next. Marthas’ smile grew wider, and with a graceful turn, he began to walk away, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I must check on the town and temple,” he called over his shoulder, “to make sure there are no more attacks. Have a pleasant day, both of you.”

Nick watched him leave. He couldn’t deny feeling some regret over their lesson being interrupted, which only heightened his annoyance.

He hardly had time to process his thoughts before he felt an iron grip on his shoulder.

“Home. Now.”

His mother’s tone left no room for argument, and Nick found himself half-dragged back toward the house. He didn’t resist, knowing from experience that it was better to let her fuss and get it over with. She was probably just worked up from her own fight, and finding the prelate so close to their home must have worsened her already frayed nerves.

Once inside, Elena set him down on a chair and began examining him thoroughly. “Are you injured?” she asked, not waiting for a response as she checked his arms, face, and even his hair for any signs of injury.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Nick said, trying to sound reassuring. “Really. I was caught off guard by the attack and fell on my butt, but he dealt with it. It never even got close to me.” He didn’t mention that the shield he cast was completely ineffective. That would have been counterproductive.

Elena didn’t respond; instead, she moved to check his shoulders and back. Nick sighed inwardly and sat still, enduring her inspection with long-suffering patience. It wasn’t until she appeared satisfied that she stepped back, crossed her arms, and adopted a stern expression.

“What were you thinking, staying out there with that man?” she demanded.

Nick hesitated. “I wasn’t there to meet him—he just showed up. And then there was the wraith—”

“Which he was fully capable of handling on his own,” Elena interrupted sharply. “And you should have gotten out of there the moment it appeared.”

“I tried!” Nick protested. “But I barely had time to stand up that it was already over!” It was almost true. He did stay to watch the fight, but it ended much quicker than he would have liked.

Elena’s expression softened slightly, yet her frown remained. She let out a deep sigh and sank into the chair opposite him. “I know you’re capable, Nick. More than capable. But you don’t understand how dangerous people like him can be.”

Nick frowned. “That’s what you are worried about? Not the monster? He said it was a Vine Wraith. Do you know anything about it?”

Elena hesitated, her eyes flickering briefly to the window. Then she sighed again, rubbing her temples. “You weren’t the only one who was attacked,” she finally said. “There were at least six of those things. They targeted strategically important individuals—your father, Akari, myself, and others.”

Nick’s stomach sank. “Is everyone okay?”

“Mostly,” Elena said, though her expression grew somber. “I wasn’t there long, but I heard there was a wounded person in the beastkin quarter. She’ll recover, but it was touch and go. Thankfully, they had a good supply of healing brews on hand, or it would have been a tragedy.”

“Elia?” Nick whispered. Unless Wulla was carrying her best supplies with her, the only reason someone could have been close enough to get help was if her house had been attacked.

His mother hugged him, ignoring his stiffness. “Yes, I believe it was your friend, but she made it.”

Nick needed a few moments to process his feelings. Being so emotionally overwhelmed wasn’t easy. He couldn’t wait until puberty was over, and he could trust his mind not to betray him any longer.

“Why would they attack her? Marthas said the Vine Wraiths are harbingers of a stampede. Was it merely coincidence?"

“That is a possibility,” Elena admitted. “Your father’s initial assessment was that the wraiths were bound to a powerful caster. That means the real powers are finally starting to move.”