Seven Sins System Chapter 686. Shadowrae Hollow II
Seven Sins System Chapter 686. Shadowrae Hollow II
Darren’s arrow struck first—clean, fast, right through the lung. The thing screeched and dropped.
The other two?
Still didn’t move.
“…That’s weird,” Barry whispered.
“Hold,” I said, lifting a hand.
I stepped past Claire.
They stared at me.
Not hostile. Not charging. Just… alert.
“Evie?”
“Yeah?”
“Scan them.”
She knelt. Palms pressed to the ground.
A pulse of wind and earth magic echoed.
“…They’re not tainted. Just territorial. Low aggression markers.”
I nodded. “Then we leave them.”
“But—” Barry started.
“If it doesn’t try to kill us, we don’t kill it,” I said flatly. “Not everything in this forest is a target. Sometimes the best survival tactic is not being an asshole. Besides, its blood could attract others.”
Barry grumbled. “Fine. But if one of them sneezes too loud, I’m throwing a spear.”
“I’ll bless it before you do,” I said.
We passed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And the two Thornspawn?
They let us.
Claire led us around a narrow bend, down a slope that smelled like wet moss and bloodroot sap. The trees opened up just enough to reveal the ridge ahead.
Our destination.
North ridge.
But between us and that point?
Three more mana spikes.
Movement.
I felt it in my bones.
“Alright,” I said, cracking my neck. “We’ve got company again.”
Barry summoned his spear. “Finally.”
Claire drew her blade with a quiet hiss. “Engage?”
“Engage,” I confirmed. “Darren, range cover. Ion, left sweep. Barry—don’t shout.”
“I never shout,” Barry lied, already charging.
Evie sighed.
And we dove into the next fight.
This one wasn’t as flashy as the Ravungars, thank the Abyss.
No giant tusks.
No earthquakes.
Just fast-moving forest creeps that thought they were clever.
They weren’t.
The Fangmaws burst from underground like angry landmines—long bodies like serpentine moles, jagged bone teeth curling up like sickles. They screeched when they surfaced, and every screech made Barry swing his spear harder, like he could kill them with volume alone.
“RAHHH!” he yelled, stabbing down on one as it lunged at Claire’s side.
Claire—completely unfazed—sidestepped with elegant grace, used her blade to draw a clean line down its skull, and muttered, “Overkill, Barry.”
“Gotta keep ‘em guessing,” Barry replied, grinning as the thing twitched and flopped.
Ion darted past them, blades a blur of silver and foxfire glow. “You mean keep us guessing when you’ll trip over your own ego.”
Darren stood a bit behind the skirmish line, bow pulled taut, arrow notched and glowing with mana. “Three o’clock. One more surfacing.”
Evie’s hands flared with a soft gust of wind and a blast of pressure. She pushed the dirt just as the Fangmaw started to tunnel, revealing its form.
“Nice,” Darren muttered and loosed the arrow. It zipped, whistled, and thunked right through the open jaw of the creature.
Dead.
Clean.
The rest of the Fangmaws backed off after that. Probably realized that charging a trained squad of elemental murder-nerds wasn’t in their best interest.
We cleaned up fast. Burned the bodies. Logged the kills. Wiped our gear.
I stayed near the backline the whole time, activating Dark Healing a few times when Darren got grazed or when Barry overextended and caught a tail swipe to the ribs.
Didn’t even need to reach for my dagger. They had this under control.
I liked it when they made my job easy.
We spent the next twenty minutes sweeping the clearing for stragglers. Found a couple of Timberfiend husks—already dead. Looked like they'd fought each other. Corruption backlash. Too much ambient mana twisting their instincts.
Claire took the lead the whole way. Flawless command. Her expression was neutral as always, but I could see the way her gaze kept scanning the treetops, just in case.
Finally, we stopped in a flat clearing near a crumbled ridge. Enough space for formation drills. Enough visibility to avoid ambushes—allegedly.
“This should do,” she said, sheathing her rapier. “We can station here. High ground, soft perimeter. Easy defense.”
Darren did a slow spin on his heel, eyeing the shadows. “Doesn’t feel like much is nearby.”
Evie flopped onto a moss-covered log and kicked her feet up. “That’s because we just steamrolled everything.”
Ion crouched beside a twisted tree root, poking at a strange fungal patch. “Could be why it’s this quiet.”
Barry stretched, throwing his arms behind his head, then squinted at me. “Hey Doc?”
I looked up from my portable field scanner. “Yeah?”
“What’s our mission again? Are we just… waiting now?”
I didn’t even lift my head. “Our team is leading suppression and cleanup. Primary targets are the burrowed Fangmaws and any displaced Timberfiends. Secondary targets are mana leak anomalies or wild elemental outbreaks.”
Barry blinked. “But it’s too peaceful here.”
There was a beat.
Then Ion immediately clapped a hand over Barry’s mouth.
Like a reflex. No hesitation.
Darren groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh no. That’s a jinx. That’s a bad jinx.”
Barry mumbled under Ion’s hand, “Wha—?”
Ion hissed through his teeth. “You don’t say that, man. Not out loud. You’re inviting something. You’re opening the door. You’re basically sending the monsters a handwritten invite to our campfire.”
Barry pulled his face free. “I was just saying—”
“And now we’re all gonna die,” Darren said with a dramatic sigh. “Or worse—have to fight in the rain.”
“With thunder,” added Ion.
Evie sat up. “He’s right, you know. That’s Forest Rule number 2. Don’t comment on the peace. It’s never just peace. It’s the pre-screaming stage.”
Claire didn’t speak. She just slowly turned her head toward Barry with a look that could have curdled milk.
Barry held up both hands. “Okay, okay, I take it back. Reverse jinx. Rewind. CTRL+Z.”
“Too late,” Ion muttered, still watching the shadows like they’d just shifted.
I didn’t laugh. I didn’t even smile.
Because they weren’t wrong.
And something about the way this place felt was off.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Even with the Fangmaws gone, there should’ve been signs of other life. Small ones. Mana beetles. Tree lizards. Leafmice. Even corrupted rats. Something.
But there was nothing.
No movement.
No distant birdsong.
No buzz of bugs.
Just us.