Garden Of The Abyss

Chapter 438 - Through The Valley Of Branches

Looking up, he stood directly under a branch that held a massive nest of bundled brunches. From what he could tell by the stillness of it and the silence around him, it was empty.

"Better than nothing," he thought.

He took a few breaths in and out while looking at the giant tree trunk in front of his eyes, clenching and releasing his hands as he readied himself for the task.

If simply standing was a challenge, then climbing would be the ultimate trial.

Here goes, he thought.

Beginning his ascent, he latched onto the tan-brown hide of the tree, slowly dragging himself up its length as he winced through his clenched whites.

Just the weight of his garments and weapons were enough to feel like an anchor weighing him down as he climbed at a sloth's pace; digging into the bark with his fingernails, he slowly, but surely crawled upwards.

After an hour's fifth of the arduous climb, he reached his destination while huffing heavily, resting on the high-placed branch as he regained his lost breath.

As he thought, the bowl-shaped nest was devoid of any inhabitants; even the rugged, branch-made home for avians looked comfortable, by this point.

"Beggars can't be choosers, right?" He muttered wryly.

After sitting down on the flat, natural bridge, his body refused to stand back up as he chose to crawl into the large nest, having to pull himself over the wall of melded, intertwined branches before sliding down its bowl-like interior.

Finding himself in the center of the nest, he fiddled with his light locks for a moment before looking up; the size of the avian-built home only registered now that he was dead in its center.

What was usually no bigger than the size of a bowl meant for eating was now rivaling that of a modest house.

"Alright...this is as good as it's going to get for a rest stop," he muttered.

Laying back against the surprisingly comfortable bed of branches, his eyes shut without him even having to command them to do so.

If worse comes to worst with things here, I can call on Astraeus...at least, I can try to, he thought as he laid there.

It wasn't a minute later that his eyes were shot back open as the nest shook beneath a heavy, sudden weight.

As he sat up with a disgruntled curve to his eyebrows, he didn't see anything in front of his groggy, uncovered eye, but a shadow now loomed over him.

"Huh?"

Tilting his head back, he looked directly up to find himself face-to-face with a crimson beak and black, pearly eyes.

For a second, he remained absolutely still as his groggy self acclimated to what his eye displayed to his brain.

After that second was over--

"What the?!"

He rolled forward, drawing his blade and facing the mysterious visitor just as it parted its crimson-tinged beak, unleashing an echoing screech.

Though it was a gargantuan avian, lying inside of its beak were countless, small, but razor sharp teeth that could be for nothing else but carnivorous tendencies.

Its large, red talons clung to the side of the nest as it spread its wings, displaying its snow-white feathers in all of their daunting glory. The wingspan it possessed was triple his own height, and its size alone dwarfed him by enough that those talons or its beak could carry him off.

I get it now, he thought.

"This is your home, isn't it? Listen, I was just on my way out of here so--" he began to say.

Another high-pitched screech left the avian's malicious beak as it sounded off like churning lightning.

Obviously resolving something peacefully never works here, does it? He thought.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he firmly held onto the fabric-wrapped handle of Belus, standing ready with such heavy, dark bags under his eyes that he could tangibly feel their existence. The last thing he felt like doing was getting into a fight, but by this point, he was more than used to having to fight.

"Come on, then," he muttered.

He stood still, waiting for it to make the first move as it stood there with its wings spread as if trying to intimidate him with sheer size.

After it seemed to realize he was refusing to move, it finally made its move; rearing its head back, it unleashed swift, repeated pecks of its large beak directly towards him.

"Humpf--!" He grunted.

Blocked each jab with his blade, the clash of tough material echoed; clang, clang, clang.

It's like I'm fighting a spear-user, he thought.

As tired and out of it he was, it was child's play to guard against the relatively slow, predictable attacks. It was at times like this that he realized the natural growth he had undergone; thankful for it in his tired state.

Even if it was easy to guard, the strength behind the monstrous pecks still resounded through his body like chimes of pain.

"Ghh...it's time to end this, already!" He muttered through his clenched teeth.

Repelling the avian's crimson beak with an expulsion of breathing that bolstered the push of his blade, he gathered his mana for a finishing strike.

"Dunkel: Slicer!"

--What resulted was a bit more grotesque than he initially planned, but the job had been done as the release of visceral darkness cleaved the bird's head right off.

Standing there for a moment as he looked at the slumped-over body of the white-feathered bird, he sighed before sheathing his weapon.

"I guess sleep isn't really an option until I'm out of here," he muttered.

Descending from the nest, he kept himself wrapped in his silver cloak as he traversed the windy series of daunting bridges.

His posture was slightly lowered as his tired, cold body didn't have the energy to hold itself properly as he kept moving one foot in front of the other, repeating the process manually as the neighboring updrafts brushed against him briskly.

Sleeping for just a few minutes somehow made me even more exhausted. Just great, he thought.

All he could do to keep himself supplemented with the strength to walk forward was to continue to look on at the distant, but steadily closer, basin awaiting beyond the chasm of branches.

Though a fire was constantly lit within him as not for a passing second did he forget the existence of the ones he was fighting for.

Thoughts didn't populate his mind in his haze of exhaustion while he marched forth, leaving him to be surprised when he stopped to find himself in a peculiar section of the already unorthodox environment.

Many of the widthy branches coalesced into a platform, connecting to an array of bridges that led to the surrounding, colossal trees of seemingly boundless size.

Looking around a bit, he decided it was as good a place as any for a short break spot as the platform was definitely more comforting than the bridge that constantly inhabited the fear of the chasm below.

How far have I made it? I honestly...can't tell, he thought.

As he plopped down on his rear, he let out an unrestrained yawn that echoed through the vast region of trees, carried through the empty space between each cedar.

Feeling the jingle of glass meeting glass in the pocket of his coat, he reached into it to retrieve one of the vials containing lightly-luminescent, blue liquid.

"I could probably use a bit of mana right about now," he muttered, "maybe it'll help with the exhaustion?"

Popping the vial off, he opted to chug the entire content of the bottle as the cold, azure liquid slid down his throat.

He let out a satisfied breath before tossing the bottle off the sound of the naturally-formed, wooden platform. Through his veins, a surge of awakening cold flooded before a warmth replaced the brisk sensation; his declining mana reservoir had been restored.

"Hmm…" He hummed quietly.

With a swift side-to-side movement of his neck, he cracked his tired bones, doing the same for his knuckles and his back.

He rotated his arms as if stretching the exhaustion away before doing the same for his legs, leaning forward as he touched his toes to simultaneously stretch his back. After his routine of stretches was finished, something he tried to do daily, if possible, he stood up to his feet with a freshened vigor.

"That hit the spot. I guess I was lower on mana than I thought," he mumbled to himself.

Looking behind himself briefly, all he could really see were the pillars of towering oak by now, long passing that from which he came.

I need to keep moving. I just can't shake the feeling that I'm still being tracked down, he thought.

Through the nature-filled chasm, it wasn't a particularly eventful journey forth; encountering oversized insects, birds, and such, he found the real foe to be the terrain he had to traverse through.

It was another two days of his slow-paced march, with some minuscule breaks, before he found himself just before the basin, standing at the border between the endless chasm of trees and the natural, verdant valley flourishing with water.

He knew there wouldn't be much respite in the beauty of the new environment, but it looked a hundred times better than the current terrain he stood on.

Please, just have something to eat over there, he thought wishfully.