Demi-god Twin Chapter 24: The Moon’s Glare.

(Iphicles P.O.V)

The battlefield is a ruin of shattered wood, torn roots, and the sickly-sweet scent of sap mixed with blood.

I stand amid the destruction, my chest heaving, arms aching, and the metal tips of my wings buried deep into the split cores of the two Ents after they had conjoined to put on a last ditch effort.

The ancient guardians of the forest had fought viciously, their bark-like bodies withstanding hours of punishment.

They had regrown limbs, twisted roots into spears, leaves into arrows and tried to crush me beneath the weight of their trunks.

But they weren’t invincible. I am. Or at least damn near close with my regeneration.

My feathers had pierced their thick hides, my wing blades had severed their roots, and now they lay limp, glowing red eyes dimming as the last remnants of strength drain away.

Around me is a field of shredded trees and plants, a scene that would leave Paul Bunyan himself speechless.

Folk lores from my past life aside, my second attribute is the only reason I survived the forest army, otherwise the outcome would be me crucified on a cross made of roots.

With a sharp motion, I rip my wings free, sending splinters flying as the massive Ent croaks out an echoing groan.

Silence follows, deep and unsettling.

For a moment, I seat on its chest under a ceiling of stars and simply breathe.

My hands are slick with a mixture of Ent sap and my own blood, my body covered in gashes, but regeneration is already at work, sealing them one by one.

I should be relieved. I should be grateful to be alive. Instead, my chest twists with something unshakable. The validation of victory and the promise of reward. With the Ent's dead, it means a third, hopefully powerful attribute.

Then, the silence shatters.

A deep, creaking voice rumbles through the clearing, vibrating through my bones.

"You are marked, blasphemer."

A second voice follows, softer but laced with malice.

"The Wild God has seen your atrocity, and he does not forgive. The forest will never welcome you again. The grass will wither where you walk. The fruits of the trees will turn to ash on your tongue. The waters of the rivers will burn your throat like poison."

The voices match the Ent's but that can't be as I'm currently standing on their corpse...wait Ori said the physical bodies are only vessels. So that means their essence still exists and speaking through the forest.

I exhale sharply, letting their words settle. A god’s curse. A punishment.

I glance down at my hands, flexing my fingers. I should be afraid. I should feel something. But instead, laughter rolls from my throat.

It is low, dark, and edged with defiance. I turn my gaze toward the dying Ent, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"You think that scares me?" I sneer. "You think I fear a curse? You think I fear any god? Except for the goddess of luck, I defy every other divine existence!"

The last flickers of life within the Ents fade, their final whispers carried away by the wind.

"Your arrogance will be your doom."

"Perhaps," I say, jumping off the remains without a second glance. "But I’ve never cared much for fate."

I wipe the blood from my wings and disappear into the air, leaving behind nothing but ruin.

Now I just have to wait 24 hours for the attribute to be processed.

-0-

By the time I reach the village, the night sky is beginning to brighten with the first hints of dawn.

My wings are heavy, but the exhaustion pressing down on my body is nothing compared to the sudden appearance of the curse.

I feel its weight the moment my boots touch the earth.

The grass beneath my feet blackens and curls, the once-vibrant green turning brittle. I lift my foot, and the scorched imprint remains.

Villagers stare as I walk past, some whispering among themselves, their faces pale with unease.

I ignore them, forcing myself toward Bubba’s hut. My body screams for rest, but I won’t collapse. Not yet.

Ori is snoring against the hut’s wall, his massive arms crossed. Atalanta is nowhere to be seen, probably inside with Chiron. Anissa, however, waits by the entrance, arms folded.

Her sharp gaze sweeps over me, taking in the injuries, the sap-like blood clinging to my skin, the darkened patches of earth left in my wake. She doesn’t ask questions.

She simply steps aside and says, "Get some rest. You have a long night ahead of you."

I don’t argue. I step inside, collapse onto the nearest cot, and let sleep claim me.

-0-

I wake to the scent of damp earth and the low murmur of voices outside the hut.

The sky beyond the open doorway is dim, the sun slipping beneath the horizon. I have slept the entire day away.

Swinging my legs over the cot, I exhale, rubbing a hand down my face. My body is stiff, aching from the battle, but I am alive. That’s enough. I freshen up and pour myself some revitalizing porridge from Bubba's pot.

When I step outside, Atalanta and Ori are already waiting, decked out in armor and weapons.

"About time," Atalanta mutters, adjusting the strap of her quiver, Chiron's bow in hand. "We need to move."

Ori cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders. "Hope you’re feeling strong, bird boy. The fun part’s just getting started."

I glance between them before rolling my shoulders, flexing my wings. "Let’s go."

We leave the village, riding on Grizzly and the other unnamed Direwolf without looking back. The Lunar Lotus waits.

-0-

The forest stretches before us, dark and endless. Ori leads the way, moving with ease through the dense undergrowth. We had to leave the Direwolves behind on account of the mountainous terrain.

Atalanta walks behind him, her sharp gaze sweeping the trees, ever watchful.

I follow, my steps unnaturally silent.

The further and higher we climb, the more the air changes—thicker, heavier, charged with something unseen.

I notice it first in the way the branches above seem to twist when I pass, the leaves curling inward, shriveling and the dead grass under my feet.

The curse is even more pronounced now. The forest itself recoils from me.

Atalanta notices too. "What did you do?"

I don’t answer right away, watching as another leaf withers on its branch before falling lifelessly to the ground. "Made some trees angry."

She scoffs but says nothing more.

We walk for hours, the deepening twilight casting long shadows between the trees.

Ori finally slows, then stops entirely. He tilts his head toward the darkening sky.

"We wait here."

I fold my arms. "Why?"

Ori doesn’t look at me. "Because the Walkers of the Darkness wake before the moon does."

A flicker of impatience rises in my chest. "And?"

Ori sighs, turning slightly, his large form backlit by the fading light. "You think monsters are the worst thing in these woods?" He shakes his head. "There are worse things, Iphicles."

For once, I don’t argue.

We settle beneath the thick roots of an ancient tree, hidden among the foliage.

Atalanta sharpens an arrow absentmindedly, the soft scrape of metal against wood filling the silence. Ori leans back against a rock, eyes half-lidded but alert.

I watch the sky, counting the stars as they begin to appear.

When the moon finally rises, it does so in full brilliance, bathing the forest in silver light.

Ori moves first. "We go now."

We climb even higher, the trees thinning as we ascend the rocky mountain path.

The air grows colder, but not unpleasantly so. Then, as we crest the final ridge, we see it.

The Lunar Lotus.

It grows in the center of a grove, untouched, its silver petals gleaming as though woven from pure moonlight.

Atalanta exhales slowly. "It’s right there."

She moves to step forward, but Ori grabs her arm. "Wait."

She glares at him. "For what? It’s right there."

Grumbling, the ogre kneels and places a hand on the ground.

A low hum fills the air as the earth shifts, and a rock golem rises beside him, its stone form humanoid but crude.

He gestures forward, and the golem lumbers into the grove.

It barely takes three steps before its entire form begins to crumble.

The pieces of stone collapse inward, the remains turning to dust before the wind carries them away.

Ori curses under his breath. "They’re stronger than I thought."

Atalanta stares at the empty space where the golem had stood. "What just happened?"

"They drained it of my mana." Ori frowns, staring at the grove as if seeing it for the first time. "This isn’t a normal sacred ground. It's a claimed territory that actively devours magic itself."

A thick mist begins to creep through the grove, curling around the trees, swallowing the space where the golem had been.

The silver glow of the Lunar Lotus dims slightly as the air itself seems to shift.

"Crap." The Ogre curses, face twisting in disgust at the mist."This presence...we're not dealing with mere nature spirits. These are Wraiths. Souls that have escaped the underworld. My spirit banishment spell will fail. Perhaps a complete exorcism might work but that will take too long to set up..."

Bummer. Well then...

I roll my shoulders. "We’re wasting time."

Before they can stop me, I stride forward.

Atalanta hisses in frustration. "Iphicles—"

"I’ll distract them," I say without looking back. "Ori, get started on the exorcism. Atalanta, look for a chance and grab the Lotus."

A chorus of laughter fills the air once I step into the groove.

"Bravery?"

"No."

"Foolishness."

And from the mist, the wraith sisters emerge.