ocean-life Chapter 11: Ch09. Follow the White Rabbit
Chapter 11: Ch09. Follow the White Rabbit
Chapter 11: Ch09. Follow the White Rabbit
Miles staggered backward, his vision swimming as he clutched his arm, the shallow cut from one of the wraith's strikes sending a sharp pain through his body. Blood trickled down his sleeve, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The two wraiths circled him and the rabbit in a slow, deliberate dance, their glowing red eyes gleaming like embers in the suffocating darkness of the cave.
The rabbit, still behind the disintegrated bars, furrowed its brows and muttered under its breath, "You're late, you're late..."
Miles tightened his grip on [Cheshire's Gleam], the blade feeling heavier in his hand with every passing moment. The runes along its surface pulsed faintly, flickering as if mirroring his faltering resolve.
"Any time you want to be useful," Miles snarled at the rabbit, his voice strained.
"Late? You're late, I'm late, you're late!" The rabbit tilted its head, its long ears twitching in what seemed like mocking amusement.
Miles gritted his teeth, his focus snapping back to the wraiths as they moved in unison. Their forms shifted unnaturally, gliding closer with the fluidity of nightmares. One lunged directly at him, its blade-like limb slicing through the air, while the other darted toward the rabbit's cage. A cold wave of dread washed over Miles. If the rabbit were killed, his quest would end before it even began.
"No!" he roared, pushing his aching body forward. He swung [Cheshire's Gleam] in a desperate arc to intercept the wraith heading for the cage. The blade's runes flared, catching the creature mid-lunge. The wraith shrieked as the light seared through its shadowy form, dissolving it into black mist for a moment before it reformed, farther but still intact.
Before he could recover, the second wraith was upon him. Its blade arm slashed downward with brutal force. Miles raised his sword just in time, the impact jarring his arms and nearly knocking the weapon from his grip. Sparks flew as the two blades clashed, and Miles' knees buckled. His muscles screamed in protest as he twisted his body to avoid the follow-up strike, narrowly escaping what would have been a fatal blow.
"You're late," the rabbit's voice cut through the chaos, its tone tinged with impatience. "You're late."
"What does that even mean?" Miles spat, dodging another swipe. "Do you really think I'm not trying my best here?"
"Late, late, late!" the rabbit replied, its whiskers twitching.
A surge of anger flared in Miles. He couldn't focus on the rabbit's cryptic nonsense. Instead, he channeled his frustration into his strikes, swinging [Cheshire's Gleam] with renewed determination. But the wraiths adapted quickly, their movements growing sharper, more deliberate. They were toying with him, testing his limits.
A misstep and Miles' foot slipped on a patch of slick stone, throwing him off balance. One of the wraiths capitalized immediately, its blade slicing deep across his side. Pain exploded through him, and he stumbled, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay upright.
"You're late," the rabbit's voice rang out again, louder this time. "Late, late!"
Through the haze of agony, Miles' gaze fell on the pulsing runes of [Cheshire's Gleam]. The words from its item description flashed through his mind
"No!" Miles bellowed, pushing his battered body into motion. He leapt over a cluster of bones, slamming into the wraith with all his strength. The remaining foe dissipated and reappeared a few steps away, and Miles hit the wall of the cave with the full brunt of his movement.
He saw stars. Shaking his head, though, Miles got up and raised his sword in a precarious defensive stance.
The wraith's shadowy body rippled as it advanced again. Miles' vision swam, his head spinning as blood loss, pain and exhaustion took more of their toll. His grip faltered, and the wraith seized the opportunity, driving him to the ground with a brutal strike. The blade grazed his collarbone, and a searing pain shot through him.
"Late," the rabbit said again, its voice strangely calm. "I'm late..."
Miles' fingers tightened around [Cheshire's Gleam]. He mustered the last of his strength, the runes on the blade glowing with an intensity that lit the entire cavern. The wraith hesitated, its form flickering erratically, blinded by the sword's light.
Miles growled, forcing himself to his feet as he lunged forward, channeling every ounce of his will into the strike. The blade pierced the wraith's chest, and the runes flared brilliantly. The creature let out a final, anguished scream before dissolving into a formless puddle of darkness that evaporated into the air.
Panting heavily, Miles collapsed to one knee, using the sword to steady himself. The glow from [Cheshire's Gleam] dimmed, the cavern falling under the no longer oppressive cover of its natural darkness, strangely brighter than when the black fog wraiths existed.
[You killed a Monster —]
[You received: ??? EXP]
[You leveled up]
"Yes..." Miles managed, a weak smile forming on his lips. Before he could revel in the victory, the rabbit spoke again:
"You're late," it said, stepping out of its cage with an approving nod. "I'm late!"
Before Miles could respond, the system's voice echoed in his ears:
[Follow the White Rabbit.]
The rabbit smirked and began to run.
"Oh, gods... What now?" Miles sighed bitterly and took a shaky step forward, only to be enveloped by the black mist, appearing out of nowhere, once more, its cold tendrils latching on to him like claws.