W1.A2-5: Traversing the Marshland

We had a swift lunch, followed by a brief rest to restore our energy. Mounted on Bert, it took us about an hour to reach the Poisonthorn Marshland.

A peculiar black miasma blanketed the surroundings, severely limiting visibility. Only patches of green and brown were visible in the distance; real dangers remained concealed.

Our initial steps on the marshland made the ground slightly give way, making balance a challenge.

This perilous region was notorious for hindering swordsmen, whose strength relied on mana-infused physical prowess. The unsettling terrain suppressed their full potential, forcing them to utilize mana to keep their feet buoyant on the muddy ground.

Both Lena and I managed this condition with ease, while Mom, who struggled, remained with Bert—an ideal choice.

As we journeyed through the humid miasma, the ambient light gradually dimmed.

Though Mom grew tense, she refrained from creating disturbances for us.

Flop!

"What was that?"

Mom whispered, seeking the source of the sound.

"Those might be the Snapping Eels," Lena explained. "Be cautious; while weak, they hunt in large groups."

The noise intensified, drawing closer.

SNAP!

I evaded the sudden assault as a shadow skimmed the spot I'd occupied.

"Prepare, Lena! A larger wave is approaching!""

"Understood."

More shadows darted around us, but Lena and I maneuvered deftly, shielding Mom in the middle.

Swoosh!

Lena's sword gleamed as she retaliated, cleaving through a creature. Its split body bore testimony to the attack.

Muddy black skin, an elongated form with a flat tail, and menacing teeth at either end—a Snapping Eel, infamous for its group tactics that overpower adventurers. Their attacks could deplete most mana shields, making contact risky without formidable strength.

Amid the relentless assault, our trio pressed forward through the marshland's obscurity.

Dim lighting made it challenging to discern the path.

The miasma and relentless attacks left us disoriented enough to lose direction. Yet, advanced mana users like Lena and me countered this effect.

The battle persisted for a few more minutes before we escaped the eels' territory.

Running forward was vital, as only outside their range would we elude pursuit. Otherwise, the relentless creatures would persist until one side succumbed.

We continued onward through the eerily serene marshland, though the tranquility was short-lived.

"Neigh!"

"Waah!"

Bert suddenly stumbled over something, startling both himself and Mom, who had been intently observing our surroundings.

"Darn it, Bert! Can't you show some bestial bravery for once?" I massaged my temples, attempting to reason with my supposedly "reliable" companion.

Bert swiveled its large eyes to the side and snorted in response, seemingly saying, "I was just giving you a heads-up!"

"It's alright, Danny," my mother said, gently stroking the sleek fur on Bert's back. "I'm sure the poor thing got spooked by something."

The creature closed its eyes in contentment at my mother's touch and even nodded, as if disassociating itself from the earlier incident.

"Was that a poisonthorn?" Lena inquired suddenly.

"Yes, it was," I affirmed, pressing my foot against the spot where Bert had stumbled.

A thick vine, as dark as the enveloping miasma, protruded from the ground.

Finger-sized thorns jutted out menacingly, poised to impale unsuspecting feet.

Fortunately, Bert's hooves withstood them, and I used our mana to keep them at bay.

Lena could employ the same technique as me, but her pricey shoes, essentially magic tools, rendered it unnecessary.

These seemingly simple thorns were renowned for their penetrating sharpness and contained toxic poison.

Adventurers typically used sticks to probe for these thorns, which gave the land its name, while traversing this area.

As we progressed, the density of thorns on the ground surged, prompting us to scrutinize every other step.

Large creatures were absent, as these thorns spared none.

However, this didn't imply the absence of other inhabitants.

Buzz! Buzz!

A resonating sound emanated from ahead, intensifying.

It was as though a symphony of delicate instruments played a gentle, harmonious tune—underlying life's constant rhythm.

The vicinity ahead was illuminated, despite the miasma absorbing most light.

As the luminous swarm drew nearer, it gradually resolved into an insect swarm.

The previous vibrations resulted from the rapid wing-flapping of myriad tiny creatures.

"Marshflares!" Lena stated solemnly, her demeanor calm despite the spectacle.

"Indeed," I agreed, conjuring a mana barrier.

Lena did the same, after which both of us formed an additional layer around Bert, sheltering him and Mom.

Meanwhile, the swarm approached, revealing individual creatures at the forefront.

Luminescent insects, diminutive and radiant, thrived in the poisonous miasma. Their iridescent wings emitted a soft, eerie glow that pierced the marsh's darkness.

These tiny beings congregated in large groups, creating luminous clouds above the toxic waters—a mesmerizing display. They subsisted on minute particles in the miasma, integral to the marshland's ecosystem.

In fact, without them, the marsh's air would be exceptionally toxic.

Although contact was inadvisable due to their bodies bearing concentrated miasmic poison, their presence wasn't overly concerning.

Once our mana barriers were in place, Lena and I halted, awaiting the approaching bugs.

"How beautiful."

Initially apprehensive about the insects flitting around, Mom soon eased into observing the captivating scene formed by the swarm.

The view was a privilege reserved for those willing to risk it.

As we lingered, the swarm passed, plunging the surroundings back into darkness.

We resumed our journey, encountering various perils characteristic of the Poisonthorn Marshland.

Of these, only two demanded our full attention.

One was the Venomstrider Serpent, a predator well-adapted to the poisonous terrain. Its sleek body, covered in dark scales that absorb toxins, renders it impervious to marsh hazards. Swift and sinuous, it stealthily glides through the miasma, preying on others. Its venomous fangs induce paralysis, while its emerald eyes detect even faint movements in dim light.

This creature's patience would humble the finest hunters, earning it a top spot in the marshland's hierarchy.

The other was the Noxious Wraithbeast.

This entity arises from remnants of Marsh's poison mana—a fusion of dark mist and glistening poison. Its form is ever-changing, exuding malevolence. Feeding on residual poison energy, it grows stronger each day. Capable of manipulating the miasma, it generates illusions and wields the toxic magic as a lethal weapon.

The Noxious Wraithbeast stands as a formidable guardian of the marshland, forewarning of impending danger.

However, avoiding them is quite straightforward.

"Here." Lena extended her palm, revealing a small leaf adorned with shimmering lines.

"What's that?" My mother queried, peering down inquisitively.

"A Ghostleaf," Lena elucidated. "The Noxious Wraithbeasts are the most perilous creatures here. Devoid of physical forms, they can penetrate mana barriers and infuse your body with poison."

She paused before adopting a solemn tone. "The most dreadful aspect is that the poison doesn't kill instantly. The stronger you are, the longer it takes effect. Yet, throughout, the afflicted individual endures excruciating pain, longing for death long before treatment."

"That's horrifying," Mom commented, visibly anxious.

Not that she had any cause for concern.

Our final passage through the marshland unfolded relatively smoothly.

"We're finally out!"

Lena danced with joy, taking in a deep breath of the refreshing air.

None of us enjoyed the stifling sensation within the miasma, prompting deep inhalations for a taste of freshness.

I lifted my head to the west, observing the sun's descent, bringing an end to the daylight.

"I'm relieved we arrived in time." I nodded contentedly, then turned my attention to my companions.

"Shall we find a place to rest?"

Both women nodded eagerly, exhaustion evident after today's trials.

Even for Mom, ascending the uneven terrain proved unpleasant, compounded by the tension in the dark surroundings that taxed the mind.

Presently, the marshland lay behind us, while ahead, a grassy plain offered a stark contrast.

This spot was an ideal place for respite.

"Hm? Is there a river or pond nearby?" Lena scanned the surroundings.

"Why?" I questioned.

"Don't we have ample water in your storage?"

"What do you know?" Lena retorted with a sideways glance. "Girls need to bathe, especially after enduring such intense and hazardous travel."

"You could always use mana to cleanse yourself, as usual," I muttered to myself.

Further debate seemed futile; she had made up her mind.

Furthermore...

I glanced at my mother, whose expression brightened at the notion of a bath.

I knew she cherished regular baths, and her inability to use mana to repel or cleanse dirt could make life uncomfortable without one.

After a brief pause, I regarded my "exceptionally dependable" mount and grinned.

Bert snorted in protest, then reluctantly moved forward to explore the plains.

Before long, it returned with promising news.