The Unknown Forrest,
Into the unknown forest, Grassth and Riitharion ventured deeper. They hadn't encountered a single person the entire time. No villages. No travelers. Only the wild.
But they did find many things—strange insects, unfamiliar animals, and unusual stones scattered around the area.
Riitharion suddenly spoke.
"Unique stones… Grassth, collect them all. I sense something inside those gray ones."
Grassth looked around before answering.
"Later, Riitharion. I don't even have proper equipment to mine those."
"Ugh. Use your hands. Or your head. Do you still have any knowledge left? I doubt it."
Grassth's brows twitched in annoyance.
"My hands? I'm physically weakened. My level, power, and strength were reset. Everything's gone. Though… I still have my intelligence."
Riitharion laughed lightly.
"Intelligence? Do you? I assumed that vanished too."
Grassth stopped walking. He clenched his fist.
This stupid ancient demon… so annoying.
"Fine. I'll try. So you can stop whining like a dog."
"Hmph. Me? A dog? I've been telling you those stones hold potential, and you're wasting it. You're just stubborn."
"Yes, yes. Enough already," Grassth sighed.
He turned toward a small trunk beside one of the gray stones. He stepped closer and bent down to pick it up.
The stone looked normal at first glance.
But when he held it—
It was light.
Too light.
"Light… I wonder what's inside this."
He tightened his grip. Holding the stone in one hand, he slammed it against the tree with all his strength.
The nearby tree shook from the impact. Leaves fell.
The stone didn't crack.
He stared at it.
"Hard… but light."
He tried again. Punching it. Slamming it against the tree. Even biting it.
Soon he was panting.
In the background, Riitharion laughed.
"Biting? Punching? Why not smash it with your forehead? Maybe you'll unlock some hidden wisdom, fool."
"Oh, you stupid rock!"
Angered, Grassth hurled the stone with all his strength at a larger rock nearby.
Crack.
It shattered into pieces.
Grassth bent forward, catching his breath.
"Oh… finally."
He approached the broken fragments.
From within the shattered stone, something faintly glowed.
A soft blue light.
It reflected in his eyes as he leaned closer.
Riitharion's voice lowered.
"An azure stone… Well, well. See? I told you these stones were special."
Grassth narrowed his eyes at it.
"What now?"
"Bite it. Then you'll understand."
Grassth blinked.
"Bite it? What if it's poisonous?"
"It's not a poison!, It's azure. An Azure."
Riitharion sounded irritated. "Stop asking so many questions."
Grassth slowly brought the glowing stone toward his mouth.
He pressed it against the side of his teeth.
And bit down.
Crack.
The stone shattered between his teeth.
Instantly, something like burning fire slid down his throat. Not liquid. Not solid.
Fire.
It scorched its way downward, leaving a blazing trail inside him. Every inch it touched burned. It dropped into his stomach—
and scattered.
The heat exploded outward.
Spicy. Violent. Unbearably hot.
Grassth grabbed his throat, trying to cough it out.
He gagged. Coughed. Coughed again.
Blue light pulsed through his veins, spreading from his heart up to his neck, down through his arms, across his entire body.
"Don't throw it up!" Riitharion snapped.
"You'll waste it! Close your mouth and endure it. Don't be so dramatic."
Grassth dropped to his knees.
Then collapsed forward, forehead hitting the ground as he clutched his neck. He coughed violently—but kept his mouth shut.
"Argh!! It burns! My throat—my stomach!"
He rolled onto his side. His eyes reddened from irritation. After another violent cough, he spat blood.
His body straightened suddenly, then twisted as he squirmed like a worm on the forest floor.
He rolled. And rolled.
Then stopped.
Gritting his teeth, he shut his eyes tight and curled inward, wrapping his arms around himself.
Endure endure endure
The burning slowly faded.
From his stomach… to his chest… to his throat.
Until only warmth remained.
He lay there, staring upward, gasping heavily for air.
Riitharion's voice returned, calm.
"Feeling better?"
Grassth panted.
"Better? That was not 'better'. It felt like I was being cooked from the inside out."
"Ugh. So pathetic. It was just pain.. Ignore it. Now stand up and breathe properly."
Grassth pushed himself into a sitting position.
Then slowly stood.
He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose.
Exhaled.
When he opened his eyes—
Everything was sharper.
The air felt cleaner.
He inhaled again.
He could smell deeper now. Layers of scent in the wind. Wet soil. Bark. Distant water.
His hearing sharpened too—he could hear a river flowing far away, leaves shifting, wind slicing between trees.
"So…"
Riitharion asked again, mockingly patient.
"Feeling better than better?"
Grassth frowned slightly.
"It enhances my senses. But I don't feel physically stronger."
"Well obviously. It's an azure azure! how many times do I have to repeat it?.
"Isn't that obvious?" Riitharion scoffed.
"It sharpens senses. Mental, spiritual, perceptive refinement. Not muscles. Not brute force. Senses improved but comprehension? Still questionable."
Grassth's brow twitched.
"Physical improvement requires physical effort."
"Magic enhances senses, mental capacity, knowledge… words. Physical is physical."
"Oh? Look at you explaining things," Riitharion replied dryly.
"Maybe the intelligence survived after all. Barely."
Annoyed, Grassth began walking again.
Then he increased his pace.
Fast walking.
Jogging.
Running.
He weaved between trees, dodging bushes and low branches. Testing balance. Testing breath. Testing control.
"Testing your limits, are we?" Riitharion asked lazily.
"Well, obviously."
After a few minutes, Grassth slowed to a stop.
He bent slightly, hands on his waist, breathing steadily—not exhausted, but worked.
He scanned his surroundings.
Then turned right and began walking again.
"Where are we?" he muttered.
"In a forest. Dramatic revelation," Riitharion replied.
"No, I mean—" Grassth sighed.
"This is an island, isn't it?" Riitharion continued.
"And islands have forests. Forest forests. Geography isn't complicated."
"Yes, but what island? How far are we from another country?"
"I don't know," Riitharion replied bluntly.
"Why ask me? We are both here. Trapped equally. I am ancient, not omniscient."
As Grassth walked, his enhanced senses picked up something.
He froze.
Footsteps.
Multiple.
And voices.
A language he couldn't understand.
He quickly crouched behind a large bush and peeked through the leaves.
Goblins.
Several of them scattered around the area. Some wore crude leather armor. Others carried daggers—one in each hand. A few had rough spears.
They seemed to be searching.
Riitharion hummed.
"Hmm. Goblins. How quaint. Perfect opportunity. Go on. Test your limits to this pathetic creatures."
"Shhh," Grassth whispered sharply.
He observed their movements carefully.
"There are too many. What are they looking for? An item? A person?"
One goblin suddenly screeched loudly and shouted something to the others. The group began moving away together.
"What did they find, I wonder?" Riitharion said, amused.
Grassth narrowed his eyes.
"Maybe their prey."
Riitharion's tone sharpened slightly.
"Well then. How fortunate. Perhaps you can decide whether you are predator… or prey."
Grassth moved forward, following the group of goblins from a distance.
Slow.
Measured.
Each step placed carefully to avoid dry leaves and snapping twigs. His senses were sharper now, feeding him information from every direction.
He watched their formation. Counted their numbers. Measured the distance between them.
He analyzed every movement he made.
As he closed in—
A sound.
In front of him.
Another set of footsteps.
He immediately lowered his body and slipped into the bushes, parting the leaves just enough to see.
Riitharion's voice echoed in his mind.
"Are you going to attack them, or crawl in the dirt all day? Sneaking around won't spare you from misfortune."
"Shush," Grassth whispered. "You're the one who'll get me caught."
A low chuckle followed.
"Twisted logic."
The footsteps grew closer.
Then he saw it.
Not like the others.
This one was larger. Its skin darker—brown mixed with black. Its entire eyes were red, no white visible.
Its nails curved sharply, almost claw-like. Its teeth longer. Jagged.
Grassth narrowed his eyes.
"What is that…? It's different."
Riitharion's tone shifted slightly—more observant now.
"Hm. A runt fiend. Seems these little havocs are learning."
"Runt fiend? Havocs? They can possess now?"
There was a pause.
Then Riitharion spoke, voice deeper, mocking.
"How dense are you? What did you think I was? A hallucination? A parasite whispering poetry into your skull?"
Grassth remained silent.
"They've known possession for over a century," Riitharion continued.
"But only those capable of thought evolve. The mindless ones? They remain beasts. Knowledge is the dividing line."
Grassth muttered, "You still sound like a clown lecturing me."
A faint, dangerous amusement entered Riitharion's voice.
"And you sound like a child arguing with the only entity keeping you alive."
Before Grassth could respond—
The runt fiend suddenly screeched.
Loud.
Shrill.
The smaller goblins immediately shifted aside, almost submissive.
The runt sniffed the air.
Its red eyes widened slightly.
It tilted its head.
Its gaze fixed on the bush.
Riitharion hummed.
"Well. How unfortunate. It smells you."
"Then what? Fight it?" Grassth whispered.
"Yes."
A beat.
"Attack before it confirms your position."
Instead—
Grassth slowly rose.
Turned.
And ran.
"Wait," Riitharion snapped. "Where are you going?"
Behind him, the runt fiend had already begun moving. Not rushing. Walking. Calmly.
It had sensed him.
"I don't have the strength yet!" Grassth said while running.
"That thing will overwhelm me!"
"Pathetic," Riitharion replied coldly.
"You speak of strength as if it alone decides survival."
Grassth leapt over a fallen branch, breath steady but tense.
"What are you saying? That I can defeat that alone?"
"If it were only about strength, armies would never lose," Riitharion said sharply.
"A group without coordination is fodder. A single mind with a plan is lethal."
Grassth glanced back.
The runt wasn't sprinting.
It was tracking.
Steady. Certain.
"A lone fighter wins when he thinks," Riitharion continued.
"A team without intelligence is merely noise."
"So what's your point?" Grassth demanded.
"My point," Riitharion said calmly,
"is that you are running with your legs instead of your mind."
The forest stretched ahead.
The runt fiend's presence lingered behind him.
Watching.
Hunting.
"And if you keep running,"
Riitharion added quietly, "you'll learn something far worse than pain."
Grassth scoffed.
"Heh. Good point. But whether strength is highly praised, an amateur who is aware can overcome any situation by understanding it."
Riitharion spoke thoroughly, without hesitation.
"Awareness is just a thought. Without action, it's senseless."
Grassth turned and sped up, dodging every bush, trunk, mud patch, and rock in his way. As he glanced back, the runt had already caught up.
"How fast is that runt?!" Grassth shouted.
"I'm running as fast as I can!"
Riitharion taunted, dripping disdain.
"This whole time, you're just running without thinking. Look at your feet. They're getting tired. Wasting stamina just to get caught."
Grassth gritted his teeth and slowly stopped.
"hm? You gonna fight back? Or did I scratch something inside? Oh… I'm already in[1]."
Inside his thoughts, he ran through the truth. Running… that's all I can do? I've always run from my past, always looked back.
It took time to get my strength… still... I failed. Ridiculous. I'm all talk.
Grassth raised his head, breathing in and out.
"I-I'll try fighting back."
Riitharion chuckled.
"Oh, say what now?" His voice dripped amusement.
"He is really gonna fight back? You even stuttered. Still scared, I see."
As Grassth turned, the runt was already behind him. Time seemed to slow as he turned to face it. The runt struck first.
Grassth felt the most unbearable pain he had ever known. The runt punched him in the stomach.
He spat blood, mouth opening wide. The impact sent him flying. His ribs cracked. Trees shook, the ground quaked, and birds scattered in panic. Yet the runt advanced menacingly.
Grassth grunted in pain, clutching his stomach. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and opened his eyes.
The runt fiend moved closer.
He closed his eyes again as thoughts raced through his mind.
A sudden old voice echoed.
Remember this,
Grassth. Always strike back fast! If your opponent hits you, bear it even if it hurts—but always hit back.
Why? Because if you don't, they won't get weaken. While doing that, think of a way to defeat them.
Remember… through martial, be brave. Through arts, be creative.
That's how you create your own combative style. If you can't, get ideas from someone—just don't copy. Ha ha ha!
As the runt fiend came in front of him, ready to strike again, Grassth raised his arm, focusing on the fist aimed at him.
The punch came so fast it was already halfway through his face. His senses triggered, and he dodged, deflecting the runt's arm with his own before moving forward.
Riitharion spoke in his mind.
"Foolish move."
The runt fiend struck again, this time with its leg, knocking Grassth back. He blocked it with his arms, though the impact seared through his muscles.
Pain shot through him, but he dashed across the ground and assumed a stance once more.
Riitharion spoke again.
"Use your head. Don't charge straight in."
"The runt is quicker than you and thinks through its actions without hesitation. That's why it predicted your dodge."
Grassth stayed still as the runt approached, rushing with its fist. It struck his face, and he dropped to his knees, moving in.
The runt tried a kick. Grassth blocked it with his left arm tucked against his chest, then moved it aside.
The fiend lost balance. Grassth seized the moment and landed a right hook to its side—a successful punch.
Riitharion barked sarcastically.
"Now, why a punch? Your legs are heavier—they pack more power! Use them!"
Grassth scoffed.
"Hmph."
The runt fell but quickly got back up, shrieking. This time, it lunged with its sharp claws, trying to tear him apart.
Grassth dodged, moving back and weaving through each strike. The fiend swung again, but Grassth moved ahead of it.
One claw came close, the other followed, he sacrificed his right arm to block, drawing blood, then dodged downward.
The fiend struck itself in the chest, coughing up blood.
It stared at Grassth, then lost consciousness and collapsed.
Grassth stood over the fallen body, blood dripping from his right arm. Supporting it with his left, he turned.
Riitharion spoke sharply.
"Don't turn your back. Let me control your body! I'll finish that havoc."
Grassth frowned.
"Control? Why? It's dead!"
Riitharion's voice snapped.
"Not dead yet! Havocs heal fast. Before it takes control of its body, let me out!"
Confused, Grassth tried to run. A shard of pain pierced him. He looked down slowly, eyes blinking.
"What?" He coughed up blood, fighting the pain, but consciousness slipped.
The fiend raised its arm to behead him. Grassth instinctively blocked it, his eyes opening wide—his left eye now half red, half orange.
Riitharion had taken control.
"What an idiot. I told you to let me control. Look at what you did," he muttered, annoyed.
"Ugh. Let me show you how combat works."
Riitharion used the fiend's body as a springboard, leaping into the air and flipping, landing facing the enemy.
The fiend screamed, slowly forming words he could understand.
"You!!! You're possessed too? Such a weak vessel… Who inhabits you?"
Its voice trembled with terror.
Riitharion replied,
"Hmm? Consume me? I'm weakened, yet you think with your mouth instead of your head."
He noticed a stick nearby, flicked it into his hand with his feet, and held it like a dagger.
"You just have to use your head, Grassth. Everything around you, every environment—is an opportunity!"
He assumed a combat stance left leg back, right leg forward, stick in his right hand, left fist guarding his face.
The battle was ready.
[1] pause. what am I writing.