The thing that had launched at Shiro with blinding speed was a Shriekbat. Shiro had managed to cut it in two with a single, effortless strike.
Arien: Oh... oh.
She was stunned by how fast the encounter had ended.
Arien: Going like this, we'll be done in less than an hour.
As she said that, Shiro crouched down, cleanly severed the Shriekbat's leathery wings with a small utility knife, and stored them in the adventurer's pack they carried.
Just like that, one of the three items they needed was already found. Now—
Arien: It's the Stonehide and the Razorfin. Well, we can only find Razorfins in muddy areas, so let's save that for last.
Shiro: So, Stonehide now? For that, we might have to walk for a long time.
And just as Shiro said, Arien and he had been walking around for what felt like a long time, wandering through the oppressive, dark-tinted air of Grimwood, searching for any sign of their quarry. After some time of fruitless wandering, they finally managed to spot one.
Just as Shiro's eyes locked onto a shape in the undergrowth, he grabbed Arien's arm and pulled her down into a crouch behind a thick, gnarled root.
Arien: What are you—
Shiro: Shhhh. Look there.
He pointed in the direction where the Stonehide was rooting around, its snuffling snout digging into the soft earth.
Shiro: Found one. A Stonehide.
A Stonehide was a fat, badger-like creature about the size of a large dog. Its most distinctive feature was the thick, stonelike plate that armored its back and flanks, shimmering dully in the filtered light.
Arien: So we need that plate, right?
Shiro: Don't go near it like it's nothing. It's an E-class, but that thing has the instinct to protect itself fiercely. So, because of that, Arien... you have to kill it yourself.
Arien, without thinking, responded reflexively.
Arien: Okay.
It took a few seconds for the meaning of his words to sink in.
Arien: ........... WHAT?
Shiro: Lower your voice.
Arien: Why do I have to do it alone?
Shiro: You want a reason? Then here
And then, Shiro suddenly got up and walked directly toward the Stonehide, making no attempt at stealth.
Arien: What are you doing? It'll escape if you do that!
Then, Shiro drew his long katana. He held it loosely at his side and spoke a single, soft word that seemed to vibrate in the air.
Shiro: **********.
And then he waved his katana upward in a casual, almost dismissive arc. He didn't put any visible strength into the strike; he just waved the blade after saying that word.
The Stonehide stopped its movement completely. It was as if it had been placed in suspended animation, frozen mid-snuffle. Shiro turned around to face Arien's direction, his body letting out a visible, shimmering heat haze, like air over a scorching road. And then—
Shiro: This is what happens if I fight it.
Just before Arien could utter a word, the Stonehide suddenly began to drop to the ground, starting from its head. But not as flesh and bone—it crumbled into fine, grey dust, cascading down until nothing remained but a small pile of ash where the beast had stood. The stone plate clattered harmlessly on top of the pile.
Arien, utterly confused by what she had just witnessed, walked near the dusted Stonehide, her voice a whisper.
Arien: What was that?
Shiro: The Stonehide can only be hurt by magical attacks. And at the same time, it can deflect some magic attacks.
Arien: Then what was this?
She asked while pointing at the pile of ash, her face a mask of confusion.
Shiro: Well, because of that, you need to attack it with a magical attack that's weak enough not to destroy it but still strong enough to kill it. And that was my weakest attack.
Arien: You call that weak?
And then, Arien snapped onto something crucial.
Arien: Wait. You don't have any Art Style. So how can you use magic?
Shiro: well, Yes but no.
Shiro pointed at his own shoulders, where the air still wavered with residual heat.
Shiro: Can you see there's a small heat wave around me? That's the reason.
Arien: What do you mean?
Shiro: I can't use mana like you do for an Art Style. So, to compensate, I can use my physical power, convert a portion of it, and use it as magical energy. But it exhausts me. The more heat you see, the more power it's costing.
With that cryptic explanation, both Arien and Shiro turned to walk deeper into the woods to find another Stonehide.
Arien: (thinking) But... that kind of power shouldn't be possible.
After some time, they found another one near the same general location.
Arien: Well then, here I go.
Shiro: Okay.
Just as the Stonehide turned toward Arien, she didn't wait for a second and fired her first form.
Arien: Art Style: Air! First Form---Air Bullet!
A small, compressed ball of air shot from her outstretched palm at blinding speed, piercing one of the beast's forelegs with a sharp crack.
The Stonehide squealed in pain, turned, and suddenly smashed its claws into the ground. The earth around it began to give way as it tried to burrow and escape, its injured leg hindering it. But Arien was ready.
Arien: I don't think so.
She raised her katana, and the air near her blade began to stir, spiraling around the steel with a low hum.
Shiro: Ohhhhh.
Arien: Second Form---Spinner!
The air around her erupted into motion, forming a small, controlled tornado that whipped leaves and dirt into a frenzy. The vortex grabbed the Stonehide, yanking it from its half-dug hole and hurling it spinning into the air. While it was helplessly tumbling, Arien quickly shifted her stance, focusing.
Arien: First Form---Air Bullet!
This time, the projectile was larger and sharper. It hit the creature directly in its unarmored belly while it was in the air, punching through with a decisive thud.
The air stilled. The Stonehide dropped to the ground with a heavy finality. Shiro slowly walked over to her, a hint of a real smile on his face.
Shiro: Hmm. That was pretty good, I'd say. Well then, let me skin it.
With that, Shiro went near the dead Stonehide, drew his katana, and cleanly sliced off its head with a pragmatic swiftness.
Shiro: Well, safety first.
Arien looked at him and managed a weary, triumphant smile.
Arien: Look who's talking.
And with that, two out of three items were secured. Now, the only thing they needed was a fin from a Razorfin.
Arien sheathed her katana, brushing dirt from her uniform.
Arien: Well then, let's head to the swamp area.
Shiro: Finally, Things about to end.
And with that, Shiro and Arien started to walk deeper into the heart of Grimwood. As they walked, Shiro began to look around with a growing, confused tension on his face. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to thicken.
Shiro: Arien... do you actually know where we're going?
Arien: Of- of course I do!
And by some god's luck—or perhaps sheer stubborn determination—they arrived at the fringes of a vast, murky swamp area. The air grew heavier with the smell of decay and stagnant water.
Arien: Hmph. Didn't I say I know where I'm going?
Shiro: Pure luck, if you ask me.
Arien: Well then. Where are you, Razorfins?
They both walked carefully around the perimeter of the swamp but found nothing. All they saw was the dark, mournful atmosphere, motionless black water, and twisted, half-submerged trees. Then, suddenly, Shiro clamped a hand over Arien's mouth and dragged her behind the massive trunk of a withered cypress, pulling them both into a deep shadow.
A strong, heavy footstep began to echo nearby. It wasn't the light tread of a human, nor the skittering gait of a normal beast. It was something else entirely—a ponderous, earth-shaking thud that vibrated up through their legs. Shiro didn't remove his hand from Arien's mouth. It was the first time Arien had ever seen Shiro look truly terrified, his ice-blue eyes wide, his body rigid. A low, rolling crackle, like distant thunder or the building charge of a massive storm, accompanied the footsteps.
Shiro whispered, without even daring to look in its direction, his voice barely audible.
Shiro: What the hell is it doing here...
He finally risked a glance past the tree trunk. His breath caught.
Shiro: Stormclaw Monarch.