A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Knowing that such a ratio was likely at play for the monster, it made it easier for Oliver to decide on a specific domain within the area for which to search. He stayed closer to the edge of the oval-shaped territory the Water Sprites had established, whilst leaving the trail, in search of any wood sprites that he might find.

He searched the snow for tracks as he went, but failed to find anything – not even a bird's, nor a squirrel's, nor even a lesser monster that had wandered in and got lost. All he found, in five minutes of searching, was a single – and rather horrific-looking – patch of red blood atop the white snow.

Naturally, that was where he came to a halt, so that he might examine it further.

The Water Sprite territory was a good two hundred metres away now, and the snow was as deep as one would expect, going by the rest of the forest. Even deeper still, in place, going as high as his knees.

Snow, tall pine trees, and a large and lonely boulder with a hat of rock. Those were his only clues to go on as for that patch of red. There were no tracks to it, and no tracks away from it, despite the fact that the blood seemed to be sitting on top of the snow.

He knelt, thinking that he could see the white of a different shade perched on top of the white of the snow. He knelt pointedly, showing his back towards a single rather suspicious direction.

A feather, with a black ridge down the middle. An owl, he guessed. That was what he found.

A brutish attack, crashing into the snow in front of him as he rolled away – that was what he'd lured.

He came to his feet in a single rush, pushing himself high with his hands as he went, and twisting in the air, so that he faced in the direction of the exposed enemy.@@novelbin@@

Even as he looked, it was hard to make out where exactly the culprit was, even with an extended branch flat into the snow beside him, as thick as his entire body. The branch remained still, even as he glared at it, as if expecting that he'd forget it had just tried to crush him.

Only when Oliver held his sword over it threateningly did it twitch. Once it twitched, it seemed to realize that it'd finally given itself away, for the branch began to shrink away like a snake, moving further out of reach of him. Oliver ran after it, knowing the creature's weakness.

Though it seemed like a Wood Sprite's ability to control and extend the branches of trees was all but invincible, he knew that wasn't exactly true. In order to have control over any one branch, it needed to insert a part of its own being into it, and so if Oliver were to run his sword through the wood, he would wound the creature as well.

Of course, for a normal adventurer that posed a specific problem: how did one break through the wood? They'd rather have an axe than a sword for that sort of thing. But for Oliver, it presented no trouble. He only needed to reach as far as the centre of the wood, after all, rather than attempt to slice it straight in two.

He also knew that the Wood Sprite had inflated the size of the branch to double what it ought to have been, weakening it in the process. Both those things worked in its favour. As he ran after the escaping branch, he readied himself for his strongest attack, tensing the muscles of his back, and fully immersing himself in the style of overwhelm.

It wasn't at all difficult to catch it, given its length and its thickness, and the fact that Oliver's speed far exceeded that of the writhing wooden tendril. He threw the strike with all his weight behind it, and easily bit through the outer bark of the wood, and in past the paler part of its stringy flesh, right towards the centre.

Here, he expected to find a flash of green, as he'd seen in Verdant's books, but he saw none of that – only more wood for his sword to bite into.

That too didn't alarm him. The book had mentioned that the creatures might employ this strategy if they saw themselves threatened with an attack that they were sure they would not be able to handle without significant damage. And so, he was not at all surprised when he cast his gaze towards the trunk of the tree, to see a stout and almost humanoid figure, of bark skin and mossy wooden flesh.

He was already racing towards it by the time it had fully parted from the tree. It roared at him, opening its golem-like mouth to unleash a call not too dissimilar to that of an angry bull. He ignored the warning, and ignored the anger in the creature's jade green eyes, and instead did what he needed to do to end the fight swiftly, aiming his sword up towards the edge of its thick neck.

The wood of the Wood Spite's right arm twisted as Oliver's sword neared, and it seemed to grow thinner, as the vines rushed towards its hand, and then beyond it, forming some sort of pole-like weapon that ran up into a sharp pointed edge, like that of a spear. It caught Oliver's strike on that weapons shaft, but not without significant damage to the wood.

Almost, Oliver had cut it in two, and the creature made its pain at that fact well known.

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It threw him backwards and reformed its weapon shaft, thrusting it out towards him, even though Oliver had stepped back well out of striking range. That spear that should not have reached extended so that it did, the Wood Sprite's arm thinning to compensate for the additional strength.

It wasn't fast enough to pose a problem for Oliver. With an enemy straight in front of him, and Oliver's eyes locked firmly on it, the likelihood of ever landing a surprise attack on him was rather small.

Not only did he block it, but he shaved down the wood with his sword as he charged forward towards the main body, knowing that every scrap of wood he took from the Wood Sprite was the equivalent of stealing away human flesh, and pained it all the same.