"Untrue," the voice countered.
Zhu paused in her wobbling steps, ready to berate the nagging know-it-all, but before she could, the voice continued.
"You are fading, but with my help, it is not happening quickly. A more accurate description would be: you are fading like molasses."
Zhu rolled her eyes and resumed walking in the direction the voice indicated. "What's your name?" she asked suddenly.
"I cannot recall my name, but within this forest I am called the Northern Guardian."
"Hm. Okay." She ignored the title entirely. "I think I'll call you Sir Frats-a-Lot instead."
"Why would you wish to call me by an offensive name?"
"Because frats are stinky and annoying," Zhu said cheerfully, "and so are you."
She laughed at her own joke. She didn't know how she knew, but she could feel the voice rolling its eyes—there was a brief, pointed silence, followed by a swift change of subject.
"You are very humorous. However, let us return to the matter at hand."
"Anything you say, Sir Frats-a-Lot."
"…That name is illogical and poorly conceived."
Zhu grinned, delighted at finally provoking a crack in the voice's icy composure. "Alright, alright. We'll table the name for now. Where are we headed?"
The voice seemed to sigh before answering. "We are going to the ginseng grove."
"Okay. Is there anything I need to collect to negotiate or distract whoever's guarding it so I can steal some?"
"No. The ginseng is protected by several beasts, but they are all in amicable accord with me. The Sika deer oversee the region we are entering."
Zhu nodded, limping onward. "I have no idea what that is," she admitted, "but I suppose I'll find out when I get there."
"Indeed, you will."
After that, the voice fell silent, guiding Zhu only through subtle shifts in air and pressure. Roots whispered beneath her feet, mana thinning and thickening around her like breath held in a chest—until they reached a particular stretch of forest.
"This is a hardwood stand," the voice murmured. "Tread carefully."
The forest changed almost at once.
The trees here stood taller and broader than those behind her, their trunks thick and ridged, bark layered like ancient armour. Oaks, ironwoods, and dark-leafed elms formed a vaulted canopy high overhead, their interlocking branches filtering the light into amber shafts. The ground beneath was firm and rich, packed with centuries of fallen leaves and old growth. The scent was deep and loamy—alive in a way that made Zhu's skin prickle.
She moved slowly, leaning on the crutch, careful not to disturb the roots webbing the forest floor.
At the heart of the grove, the mana thickened.
Zhu felt it before she saw it—a steady, pulsing presence that made the air hum faintly against her ears. Nestled between the roots of an ancient ironwood was the ginseng.
It was nothing like the dried, shrivelled thing she'd once seen in town pharmacies. This ginseng was radiant with health: broad, dark-green leaves veined with soft gold, a thick stem faintly translucent. The exposed crown of the root glowed beneath the soil, as though light itself had taken shelter there.
"One hundred years," the voice said quietly. "Perhaps more."
Zhu took an instinctive step forward—
—and the forest exhaled.
Branches shifted. Leaves rustled—not from wind, but from weight.
Something emerged from between the trees.
At first, Zhu thought it was a shadow—tall and impossibly still. Then it stepped fully into the clearing, and her breath caught in her throat.
The sika deer was massive, nearly twice the size she had imagined. Its body was powerful and lean, muscles moving like a coiled rope beneath a dappled coat of deep russet and ash-white spots. Its antlers were vast and branching, each tine etched with glowing runes of ancient mana, as though the forest itself had carved its laws into bone. Moss and thin vines clung to them, swaying gently as they moved.
Its eyes—liquid gold—locked onto Zhu.
The air thickened. Her skin prickled. Every instinct screamed at her to kneel, to flee, to not exist at all in the presence of something so ancient, so majestic. The deer was like a ruler surveying its subject.
"Do not run," the voice warned softly. "This is a Warden Beast."
The deer lowered its head slightly—not in aggression, but in assessment. One heavy hoof pressed into the earth, and the roots beneath shuddered. Mana surged through the grove in response, flowing toward it like water to a river's bend.
Zhu swallowed and tightened her grip on the crutch.
The sika deer snorted softly. Steam curled from its nostrils despite the warm air. It stepped aside—just a fraction—placing its body between Zhu and the ginseng, antlers dipping low.
A warning.
"Respect," the voice said. "Show it respect."
Zhu bowed her head, slow and deliberate, lowering herself as much as her injured ankle allowed. She pressed one hand to the forest floor, feeling the heartbeat of the land beneath her palm. This is the domain of the Sika deer, and everything was under its control, even the very forest bent to its will.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
"Northern Guardian," a deep, resonant voice echoed, "your servant is very puny."
Zhu stiffened. What is it with these creatures and insulting me?
"Yes, indeed, she leaves much to be desired," the voice resonated from within her in agreement. "But she is brave and hardworking—truly deserving of this blessing."
When she heard the first part, Zhu seethed. That's it, she thought. You are Sir Farts-a-Lot for life.
Even the praise that followed did not earn forgiveness.
"Just focus," the voice replied tersely.
Then the deer lifted its head and turned, angling its massive antlers away from the ginseng—opening a narrow path.
Not permission, just the tiniest bit of allowance.
"Only one root," the voice murmured. "Take more, and it will kill you."
Zhu didn't hesitate. She moved with careful reverence, digging with her hands. The soil was surprisingly loose and dap, making this task easier. She eased the ginseng free from the soil without snapping its roots as much as possible. The moment it left the earth, the mana pulsed once—strong and aching—then settled.
The deer watched the entire time.
Its golden eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking, as though weighing something unseen. Zhu stayed perfectly still, ginseng cradled against her chest, as she knelt on the ground. She was afraid that even breathing too loudly might undo everything.
Finally, the Warden Beast stamped its hoof.
Once.
The sound rolled through the grove like a drumbeat.
The tension snapped, not violently, but completely. She was being dismissed. Mana flowed back into its natural rhythm. Leaves rustled again. The forest exhaled.
Zhu did not realise she had been holding her breath until her lungs burned.
She climbed to her feet using the crutch, then turned and limped away, forcing herself not to run.
Only when she was several dozen paces from the grove did she dare glance back.
The sika deer was already gone—its immense form dissolving into bark, shadow, and leaf, as if it had never existed at all.
That was when her hands started to shake.
By the time she reached the edge of the hardwood stand, Zhu was drenched in sweat, her heart pounding so hard it made her dizzy. She leaned heavily on her crutch, breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She slipped her precious prized ginseng into her pocket.
My poor heart… and my fingernails, Zhu thought miserably, staring at her blackened hands, caked with rich soil.
Just be thankful you were acknowledged by the sika, the voice replied.
"Yeah, about that," Zhu muttered. "It didn't seem very friendly to me. I thought you said you were all in a friendly accord."
"We are. You were assessed and found acceptable to be added to the accord."
Zhu stopped in her tracks. "Wait a damn minute. You mean that thing was testing me? And if I was found lacking it would… what—kill me or something?"
"I would not have allowed it to kill you."
Zhu blinked. "Why do you always leave out pertinent information?"
"In this instance, that knowledge would not have served you. Fear sharpens instinct only to a point. Beyond that, it degrades precision."
Her fingers curled around the crutch as another tremor ran through her body. "So you let me walk into a trial without telling me it was a trial."
"Yes."
She sucked her teeth, a bitter laugh slipping out. "Unbelievable."
After a beat, she added flatly, "Sir Farts-a-Lot."
"…That designation remains illogical."
Zhu wiped her shaking hand against her dress and started moving again. "Yeah, well. You seem hard of hearing or very dismissive—either of which is still annoying as hell, Sir Farts-a-Lot."
<...>
Author's Note:
Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with this story 💙 I started writing it during a very turbulent time in my life, and things are still a bit unstable, but I'm doing my best to keep the chapters coming.
I'll be heading to my hometown for the holidays, and since we don't have electricity right now, I've scheduled chapters ahead of time so there won't be a break.
If you're enjoying the story, please leave a comment, add it to your library, or drop a power stone—it really motivates me and helps more than you know. Thank you all so much, and happy holidays!