Evolve Read online

  What is this? He exclaimed in Slate's head.

  "It's mana vision." Slate replied, simply. "Technically, it's a mutation."

  Mutation? Merus asked.

  "Forget about it. Just understand that I can actually see the mana around us. I don't need to imagine it." Slate didn't realize how much effect his throwaway statement would have on Merus.

  That's amazing! He gushed. Anything that increased Merus' knowledge of the magical world was enough to excite them. Magic had always been his true passion. This makes everything so much easier. Much of magic is trying to feel your way through. With this, we have a real chance of winning the Reaping! For the first time since he had been infected with Slate's presence, he began to sound excited,

  "Alright, alright." Slate held his hands up as if he were calming down a small child. Let's get to the good stuff." Merus quickly regained control of himself. He was imprisoned with his own body by a deadly parasite. Now wasn't the time to get excited over his hobbies.

  Alright. Activate your mana vision and begin to use your will to draw the mana towards you. The amount of mana you can draw is dependent upon your natural resonance with mana. Generally, everyone is different, and there aren't many easy ways to increase your affinity with magic. Your whole goal is to create a connection between you and the forest. This will allow the Wyldwood to communicate with you. Merus sounded like he was a teacher at a lectern. It was an interesting side of his personality that Slate was amused to witness. Merus was clearly more comfortable talking about magic than he was with combat. Slate reasoned that he could use that tendency later.

    "This forest can talk?" Slate wondered.

  Certain life forms within the forest can, but you're searching deeper than that. Merus answered. There's a spirit that undergirds the entire forest. We refer to it as Silvys, but no one has actually heard it speak. To you, it's probably more of a source of energy than an actual deity. Merus mused. I've never actually questioned if the forest was an immortal being or not. For as long as the wood elves can remember it has always been present. It's never spoken so much as guided the Guardians. Once we establish the link, the forest will do its best to assist you in your goals. The more you use it, the more clearly you can understand the feelings and impulses it sends your way.

  Slate felt like Merus was waxing a little poetic for what amount to a bunch of trees. However, this was the first time that Slate hadn't had to pry the information from the elf, and the change was refreshing. "How does that help us find and kill the other Guardians?" He questioned.

  Once you're connected to the Wyldwood, the other Protectors will feel like they're out of place. Merus replied. They'll feel like an itch between your shoulder blades that you can't reach. He paused. This will be especially true of the other Guardians. If my link to Silvys has weakened, means theirs will be almost nonexistent. The forest will be happy to show you their locations. Merus said confidently. If they had a connection, then they would be able to shield their presence from your searching.

  Slate sighed at the fire hydrant load of information he was receiving from the now talkative elf. "Alright' let's get started. It has been a while since I've killed anything' and I'm starting to grow hungry." The elf's stomach took that moment to rumble noisily.

  Merus sounded a little put-out that Slate didn't want to hear more about the forest and the spirit that ruled it. The spell is called Communion. He said testily. It will work in other places of power and not just this forest let's try it.

  Finally. Slate thought. Slate placed his hands, palm up, and activated his mana vision. He grit his teeth as he tried to summon the mana around him in the manner that Merus had described. After a moment, he felt the elven Guardian's presence in his mind and Slate relaxed the grip he unconsciously held over Merus' spirit.

  He began to feel Merus guide and center his mind as it wrestled with the mana. What once felt like lifting a large boulder overhead and running, now felt like skipping a stone. The mana began to weave and writhe all around him until it coalesced in a shining knot-work circlet upon his brow. Out of curiosity, Slate canceled his mana vision, and the view of the circlet disappeared. He quickly turned it back on, fearing the worst, and was relieved to see that it remained.

  Congratulations! You have learned the spell Communion. This spell is used to commune with places of power. The effects are varied, and some places of power can overwhelm the wielder of this spell and damaging their ability to manipulate mana.

  Slate face went white with fear. "You idiot! You could've completely damaged my ability to work with mana." Slate could feel the sheepish response from Merus.

  It was only a small chance. Merus quickly became defensive. Besides, if you couldn't commune with the forest, then you wouldn't have been capable of taking over my village anyway!

  Slate figured that the elf had a point but didn't want to admit as much. "Whatever' let's fucking go." He rose to his feet and turned in a slow circle. "Now…I only have to figure out where we actually need to go."

  Just relax. Merus counseled. The forest will guide your feet, let it. The spell isn't being sustained by your own magic; it's being powered by the forest. You just had to provide the magic to make the connection. Let the process take as long as it needs. Your ability with the spell will increase the longer you remain in communion.

  Slate was getting increasingly aggravated with the metaphysical aspects of this world. His first few days had been a simple cycle of kill, eat, and repeat. Now, he had to speak to a mystical forest and traipse around like a goddamn forest fawn. He allowed his feet to move of their own volition as he complained about the situation he now found himself in. Soon he allowed himself to transition into a controlled run.

  If he were honest with himself, the feeling of running through the nighttime woods was invigorating. Wood elves naturally had excellent night vision, and his own mana vision was working overtime to avoid any potential confrontations. He soon found that he needn't have bothered. Tree roots and plants picked themselves up out of his path. Large animals within his sensory range quickly moved away from him, and his run promptly became a peaceful routine. After he had run for close to three miles, he began to slow his pace instinctually.

  A creeping itch developed between his shoulder blades and Slate was almost annoyed at how accurately Merus had described the sensation. As if sensing they were nearing their prey, Merus remained blissfully silent. He uncurled his tail from around his waist and held it at the ready near his feet. In the darkness, his enemy might mistake the tail for something else, and that would lead to their downfall.

  Slate padded forward on silent feet, straining all of his senses to detect the enemy he instinctively knew was there. He shouldn't have worried. As soon as the other Guardian was within the range of Slate's mana vision, his opponent became as visible as a wildfire. The same magic potential that made them so strong when in communion with the forest, made them easy for Slate to spot.

  Luckily, Slate had approached his target from behind. The wind was blowing towards Slate, and he realized it wasn't mere coincidence. The Guardian looked like he was sneaking up on something as well and hadn't realized that Slate was creeping up behind him. The hunter had officially become the hunted.

  Slate stealthily entered combat range as he decided how he wanted to handle his prey. Before he would have used acid or tackled in combination with his ridged skin, but that didn't seem practical in this scenario. Just as he decided to attack, the elf stiffened and then launched into action.

  In a movement almost too quick for Slate's eyes to follow, the crouched elf spun on his right heel and built his momentum. Upon turning, he planted his left foot and launched himself into a spinning roundhouse kick that had enough force to launch his frame off the ground.

  Slate let out an involuntary gasp of surprise as he brought both of his arms up and crossed them to catch the powerful kick. Instead of allowing the force of the kick to shatter his arms, he allowed the power behind the movement to fling h
im earthward and back. He used the excess momentum to roll on his back and regain his footing outside of his attacker's kicking range. He cursed himself in his head for allowing himself to become complacent. No ambush was perfect, and no plan survives first contact with the enemy. These were lessons that he had learned a lifetime ago and allowed to grow rusty.

  He couldn't allow these thoughts to affect him now. The force of that kick informed Slate that this Guardian didn't need magic to help him kick Slate's ass from one side of this forest to the other. The last time Slate had been a serious follower of martial arts had been back when he was in the military. It wasn't seemly for a career politician to be seen rolling around in the muck with plebs and he had let the practice go. He bitterly regretted that decision now. Merus had a better than average grasp of martial combat, but those skills didn't translate to Slate despite being in his body. Slate would have to rely on his unique talents to survive this engagement. With that in mind, he began to circle his opponent.

  The Guardian grinned at his attempt to stall. "Well, well, Merus. You felt the fading of the magic too and decided to try and kill one of us." He chuckled "Admirable but you've always been the worst of us in one-on-one conflict. Your strength has always been born of magic." The Protector spit at Slate's feet in derision. "You don't even deserve Lucelynia, and once I kill you, I'll take her for myself."

  The Guardian clearly thought that this kind of talk would rile Merus into attacking him. He would have been correct if he had actually been fighting Merus. Slate could feel the elf growing angry but he remained silent. Slate got the impression that this was the Guardian that Merus had mentioned earlier. Slate's opponent seemed confused by Slate's lack of response.

  "If you were fighting Merus," Slate slowly said as he closed the distance, "that might work." His opponent looked confused. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not Merus, and I don't give a shit."

  On the "s" of "shit," Slate launched a straight cross with his dominant hand. The punch was heavily telegraphed as Slate had brought his fist all the way back to his head before sending it hurtling towards the Guardian's face. His surprised expression morphed into a sneer as he moved to quickly block the punch. Slate sneered back in his enemy's face transitioned from a smirk to shock. Slate's punch never landed on the elf's face, and the elf never had a chance to block it. Slate had held his tail low and close to his body. In the night draped forest, the elf had never seen it coming. He was too busy watching for the apparent punch that he didn't see the tail, brown in color, punch its way into the elf's groin.

  The shock on his face turned to ear-splitting screams as Slate violently removed his tail from its sheath. Blood poured out of the elf's groin. Slate had been taught early in his military career to aim for the head, heart, or the groin. The groin in human anatomy had a nerve cluster behind it, which would completely incapacitate an enemy. He hadn't been sure, but it looked like elf anatomy was similar enough in that regard.

  The screaming continued, and Slate realized that he couldn't let it continue. The noise would either bring predators to his location, or it would alert his next target. He walked closer to where the elf lay contorted in pain and knelt by his head. "Shh," he whispered and brought his tail to the elf's throat. With a single, violent gesture, he used his tail to cut the man's throat from carotid to carotid.

  In the movies, people thought that simply cutting the throat was enough to kill someone. Sure, it could make them choke on their own blood, but the real reason they died, was the two arteries on either side of the neck. After a few short moments, oxygen stopped being carried to the brain, and the target passed out. It took only a couple seconds for the elf to grow silent. It would be a minute or so more before the blood loss would cause his heart to stop.

  Slate decided not to wait, and plunged his tail again into the elf's body and speared his heart. He was rewarded by the system.

  Congratulations! You have killed a level 28 Wood Elf! You have earned 9,350 experience. You are currently within a host body and can decide to give the experience to the host or to your own body! You cannot split the experience.

  Slate grinned at the message. This night was going to turn out better than he had ever realized.

  Chapter 6: Death to the Guardians

  Slate considered the amount of experience he had received when he killed a single Guardian as he began to quickly turn the body into dinner. He could feel Merus recoil in his mind in disgust, but Slate didn't mind. He wasn't human or elf. It made little sense to become squeamish over a meal. Who cared about Merus' delicate stomach when that meal would provide so much for him in the form of biomass. Out of anyone, he should've been the most understanding.

  The forest provides. Slate thought wryly. After turning the elf into parasite soup a la mode, he had netted 15 biomass. This encounter also gave him enough experience to level all the way from ten to sixteen. Overall, killing Guardians was an efficient business.

  Slate thought about using some of his biomass to improve his mutations, but after a moment of thought, decided not to. As he leveled, his host body was supposed to become more welcoming to his parasitic body and Slate didn't know what that would mean for Merus physically. The extra lethality an upgrade would provide would be welcome for the next six Guardians, but if he changed Merus' body too much, it was likely his people wouldn't accept him as their leader. The wood elves were surprisingly xenophobic due to their long estrangement from the rest of the realm.Wrapping up his meal, Slate rose smoothly to his feet.

  Merus decided to take this moment to chime in. Now that you've been maintaining communion with the Wyldwood for so long, I can feel its will through you. I should be able to guide you to the next Guardian.

  Slate stretched his whole body out. Which felt full of energy and vitality. His tail languidly swished by his ankled. "Yeah, let's get the next one."

  Merus agreed with the parasite. It shouldn't be as far as the last one. In fact, I can feel two of them, a mile and a half away. I can feel their presence getting closer. They must have heard Invid's screams.

  Slate paused. "Oh, you knew him?"

  Of course. Merus said, satisfied. Invid Blackbow was the Guardian that lusted after Lynia. If nothing else happens this evening, my life has been made better by his absence. He said happily. Let's keep going. Do you think you can handle two? The parasite considered the question.

  "Maybe. I'll have to ambush at least one of them. I'm not much use against trained warriors in a straight-up fight."

  Fair. Two Guardians are on their way. You could set up an ambush here instead of chasing them around the forest? Merus offered. Slate studied his surroundings. This stretch of forest was as good as any other. The forest floor didn't have much vegetation, and the trees were straight and thin. They looked like parallel lines for as far as the eye could see. They looked so similar in the gloom that they played tricks on the eyes and made it difficult to judge distance.

  He looked into the branches above him. The cover was so thick that very little moonlight penetrated to the forest floor below. It made perfect sense for the wood elves to develop night vision the way that they had. If they hadn't, they would be close to useless in this environment.

  "This isn't a suitable place for an ambush." Slate responded. "There isn't anywhere to hide except in the treetops."

  Merus seemed to ponder the issue. I don't know that you can beat two Guardians by yourself then.

  "Well," Slate ground out. "I don't have much choice, do I? Whatever, we're going to have to play this by ear. Which direction are they coming from?"

  Merus focused and began to relate their positions in clipped, brief updates. Slate had noticed that he only gave the necessary information when they were about to enter a fight. He didn't distract Slate with information that either didn't matter or would distract him during the battle. Slate actually appreciated Merus for his ability to know when to shut the fuck up. It was a rare talent.

  Directly from in front of you and slightly towards your left. Their
senses should be keen enough that they'll be able to smell the blood. Merus informed.