Chapter 42: Chapter 42 — The Spirit Shrooms
Chapter 42 — The Spirit Shrooms
Victor finally slowed down.
His breathing was heavy, and every breath felt like it scraped against his lungs. The forest blurred slightly at the edges of his vision as he came to a stop beside a thick tree, placing one hand against its rough bark for support.
The fight had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit.
His right shoulder burned with every movement. The wound from the beast’s black beam wasn’t deep enough to cripple him, but the longer he ignored it, the more concerned he became that the injury would worsen. He would need to clean it and treat it soon.
Victor straightened himself and looked ahead.
He had finally reached the area where he had found the Spirit Shrooms before.
He couldn’t afford to stay.
The forest had already shown him how quickly a simple encounter could turn into a fight for his life. If he remained in one place for too it long could attract something far worse.
Victor took a slow breath and forced his mind to settle.
Get the mushrooms.
Get out.
That was all he needed to do.
Victor began recalling everything he had learned about Spirit Shrooms from the Library.
They preferred dark, damp environments where sunlight and other strong sources of light couldn’t reach them. Their ideal temperature hovered around seventy degrees, and they required soil rich in spiritual residue to grow properly.
When those conditions were met, the mushrooms could form a cluster.
But there was a limitation.
In the wild, a natural cluster rarely contained more than five Spirit Shrooms.
Usually, there were only one or two.
Three was fairly common.
Four or five meant the soil possessed a particularly high concentration of spiritual residue.
And if someone found one cluster, there was a good chance they could find several more nearby.
Victor remembered that information clearly.
He had found three the last time he was here.
That had already been fortunate.
Victor moved farther into the forest.
The vegetation became thicker as he went, forcing him to slow his pace. The ground beneath his feet gradually became softer, and the air grew noticeably more humid.
After another thirty or forty feet, Victor stepped around a large tree.
Then he stopped.
His body froze.
For several seconds, Victor simply stared ahead.
He had expected to find another small cluster.
Maybe two.
Maybe three if he was lucky.
What he saw instead made absolutely no sense.
The trees ahead opened into a wide clearing.
A canopy of enormous branches stretched above it, blocking most of the cavern’s artificial light. The ground was dark and wet, with shallow pools of water gathering between roots and patches of soft soil.
And covering nearly every part of that soil were Spirit Shrooms.
Hundreds.
Victor’s eyes widened.
There were so many that he couldn’t immediately determine where one cluster ended and another began. Pale blue mushrooms covered the ground in every direction, their faint spiritual glow barely visible beneath the darkness of the canopy.
Victor slowly stepped forward.
His eyes moved from one patch to another.
There were hundreds.
No maybe even thousands.
He couldn’t even count them.
Victor stared in disbelief.
"What the..."
He stopped himself.
The conditions were perfect.
The canopy kept the area dark.
The wet ground provided the moisture they needed.
The temperature was almost exactly what the books had described.
And the soil...
Victor crouched and touched it.
A faint spiritual sensation traveled through his fingers.
The soil was saturated with spiritual residue.
It was practically overflowing with it.
Victor slowly stood.
Everything was exactly right.
Yet something was wrong.
The Library had been very clear.
Wild Spirit Shrooms didn’t grow like this.
They appeared in small clusters.
Even if the soil was exceptionally rich, there were limits to how densely they could naturally grow.
Victor looked across the clearing again.
Hundreds.
His mind struggled to reconcile what he was seeing with what he had read.
The information can’t be wrong.
If it said Spirit Shrooms didn’t naturally grow in numbers like this, then there had to be another explanation.
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
His gaze moved across the clearing.
These aren’t supposed to grow like this
The thought appeared almost immediately.
Victor stared at the forest surrounding the clearing.
For a moment, curiosity pulled at him.
Then he remembered where he was.
Curiosity could wait.
He had found what he came for.
Victor crouched.
His hands moved quickly.
He began gathering the mushrooms.
One.
Two.
Three.
He moved from one patch to another, carefully pulling each Spirit Shroom from the soil without damaging the delicate roots. He placed them into his storage as quickly as he could before moving to the next.
The process became almost rhythmic.
Victor barely stopped to breathe.
The number continued climbing.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Forty.
The pain in his shoulder became increasingly noticeable, but Victor ignored it.
Fifty.
Sixty.
His fingers were beginning to ache.
Seventy.
Victor glanced around the clearing.
He continued.
He kept moving until his hand closed around the eighty-fourth Spirit Shroom.
Victor paused.
He stared at the mushroom in his hand.
Eighty-four.
He had absolutely no idea how many more remained.
He looked around.
The clearing still appeared to be covered in them.
A small smile began to form.
This was more than enough for several attempts at the Spirit Accumulation Pill.
Perhaps far more than he needed.
Victor stood.
Then he noticed something.
The forest was quiet.
Victor’s smile disappeared.
He slowly looked around.
A moment ago, the clearing had been filled with the natural sounds of the forest. Birds calling from the branches. Insects buzzing through the vegetation. Leaves rustling whenever something moved through the undergrowth.
Now there was nothing.
Not even the distant sound of a beast moving through the trees.
Victor stood completely still.
His fingers tightened around the Spirit Shroom.
Something was wrong.
His instincts had already begun screaming at him.
Victor slowly turned.
Nothing.
His eyes moved across the clearing.
Still nothing.
The silence became heavier.
Victor swallowed.
When did it get this quiet?
Victor’s eyes slowly moved upward.
He followed the trunk of one of the enormous trees near the edge of the clearing.
His gaze traveled higher.
Higher.
Until finally...
He saw it.
Victor froze.
A black panther rested on one of the massive branches above him.
It was enormous.
Its dark fur seemed to absorb what little light reached the canopy, making its body almost blend into the shadows. Powerful limbs rested casually against the branch, while its long tail hung behind it, slowly flicking from side to side.
There was nothing hurried about its movements.
It simply watched.
Its golden eyes were fixed directly on Victor.
The creature looked almost regal sitting there, as though the branch beneath it were some ancient throne and the entire forest belonged to it.
Victor’s heart sank.
When did it get here?
He hadn’t heard it.
He hadn’t felt its presence.
He hadn’t sensed that oppressive pressure he remembered from their first encounter.
Victor stared upward.
The panther stared down.
Neither moved.
Seconds passed.
To Victor, they felt like an eternity.
His mind raced through every possibility.
The creature he had spent all this time trying to avoid was sitting above him as calmly as if it had been waiting for him to finish gathering his harvest.
His eyes remained locked with the panther’s.
For the first time since entering the forest, Victor felt completely out of control.
He had come here prepared to face danger.
He had expected beasts.
He had expected trouble.
But he hadn’t expected to walk directly into a situation like this.
Victor’s heart began beating harder.
The panther’s tail flicked once.
Then again.
Its golden eyes never left him.
Victor stared back.
And slowly, one thought settled into his mind.
I screwed up.
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