Ability Stealer

The forest stretched endlessly before them, a dense canopy filtering the sunlight into golden-green patches on the ground. Andrew kept a brisk pace, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Mella followed closely, her sharp eyes scanning the underbrush. Qein trailed behind, his steps measured, his dark expression betraying his thoughts.

Qein broke the silence first, his voice dry. "It depends on the monster. The more powerful they are, the longer they stay in the egg. The energy builds inside."

Andrew nodded. "Makes sense." He started walking again, the crunch of leaves under his boots. "So where exactly are these eggs? You've been asking about them for a while now."

"The Mao tribe," Andrew replied without looking back. "They're treating them like religious artifacts, apparently."

Qein stopped abruptly, causing Mella to glance at him. His lips curled into a bitter smile. "The Mao tribe. That's the last place I was before they threw me in that hole."

Andrew frowned, slowing his pace. "What were you doing there?"

"Same thing I always do," Qein said evenly. "Killing monsters."

Andrew turned fully to face him, confusion plain on his face. "Bar-Jui tossed you in that pit for killing monsters? That doesn't make sense."

Qein cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. "Why doesn't it make sense? He works with the monsters. Just like them, he has—"

A sudden whistling noise cut him off. Arrows screamed through the air. Andrew instinctively swung his sword flat against the oncoming projectiles. The first arrow struck the blade and exploded with a deafening crack, sending a shockwave through his arm. 

"Explosive tips!" he shouted.

Mella cried out as an arrow struck her chest, detonating on impact. Her armor absorbed much of the blast, but the force sent her staggering back, clutching the scorched metal. Qein dove behind a nearby tree, his movements quick and precise.

"Who's there? Show yourselves!" Mella's voice rang out, angry and unyielding. She scanned the area, her breath ragged but controlled.

Andrew positioned himself behind a tree, gripping his sword tightly. "Can you see them?" 

"No," Mella growled.

"They're high in the trees!" Qein shouted from his cover.

Andrew frowned. "That doesn't make sense. The arrows didn't come from an angle—they were straight on!"

A fresh volley of arrows whizzed through the air. The three of them ducked and ran for cover, explosions tearing through the foliage. 

"It's a trick!" Qein called out. "They bounce the arrows off something, breaking the bouncy tips to expose the explosives."

Andrew glanced at Mella, who met his eyes and nodded. She was crouched behind a tree, her breathing steady despite the burns on her armor. Andrew sprinted toward her, dodging arrows as they tore through the space he'd just occupied. When he reached her, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Hold on!" he shouted. With a surge of power, he launched them both into the air. The world blurred around them as they soared high above the forest. Mella extended her arms, searching for the attackers in the treetops, but their camouflage made them nearly invisible.

Arrows tore through the air again, striking Andrew's back. The impact rattled him, the explosions propelling them forward in a chaotic arc. He gritted his teeth against the force, landing heavily and rolling to his feet.

Andrew didn't stop. He sprinted to where Qein crouched and grabbed him by the arm. "We're moving!" Without waiting for a response, he leapt again, covering a massive distance with the momentum of his jump. The forest blurred around them, and Qein gasped at the speed. 

When they landed, Andrew didn't pause. He launched forward again, this time focusing on speed rather than height. His legs screamed in protest, the strain of his abilities pushing him to the brink. After the fifth leap, he dropped to a steady run, panting hard.

They had covered significant ground. The explosions and the whistling of arrows had ceased, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the distant rustle of leaves.

Qein exhaled shakily, his voice a low mutter. "That was insane."

Andrew slowed, scanning their surroundings. "How did they even know we were out of the hole?"

"The explosion to flip the stone was loud," Qein said. "Anyone could've been sent to check on it. If they saw the stone wasn't in its proper place—or signs of people leaving in a rush—they'd report it. Bar-Jui wouldn't waste time sending people after us."

Mella nodded, her face grim. "That's all it would take."

Andrew's mind raced, replaying Qein's earlier words. He glanced at Mella. "Qein said Bar-Jui works with the monsters. Did he ever do anything to make that obvious? I thought he kept that hidden."

"At first," Andrew continued, "I thought he trapped us because he knew we were lying about being messengers. Or maybe he never trusted us in the first place."

Mella thought for a moment, her brows furrowing. "Maybe he knows about people like me. When he saw me create those iron spears, it might've clicked for him."

Qein, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. "What do you mean, lying about being messengers?"

Andrew smirked despite himself. "We told Bar-Jui we were messengers sent by our god. It seemed like the easiest way to get through his territory."

Qein chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "That's bold."

Andrew shrugged. "Desperate times."

The afternoon light filtered through the trees as Andrew and Qein walked in silence. The only sounds were their footsteps crunching on the dirt path and the occasional distant birdcall.

Andrew glanced at Qein, his curiosity finally breaking the quiet. "Hey, Qein, can you use a sword?"

"No," Qein said flatly, not breaking his stride or looking over.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you do if we get into a fight?"

Qein stopped and turned slightly, his expression unreadable. Reaching for the small bag around his neck, he held it up. It was made of tightly woven grass, rough but practical. "This."

Andrew squinted at it. "What's that? A bag for snacks?"

"Bombs," Qein said.

Andrew blinked. "Bombs? You've been carrying bombs? When did you even make those?"

"While you were sleeping," Qein replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He opened the bag slightly, revealing several small objects wrapped tightly in dried leaves. "I've been collecting things on the way—smoking insects, olive spider bellies, other materials."

Andrew frowned and leaned in cautiously. "That sounds… unpleasant."

Qein nodded once, his tone as even as ever. "It is. But it works."

Andrew straightened up, shaking his head. "I'll take your word for it. Just don't blow us up by mistake."

Qein didn't respond, tucking the bag back under his shirt and continuing down the path. Andrew followed, glancing at him with a mixture of unease and respect.

When they reached the edge of the Mao tribe village, Andrew's steps slowed. The scene before them was drastically different from the last time he had been there. Villagers stood armed, bows and arrows drawn, spears ready. A few perched on rooftops, scanning the surroundings with sharp eyes. 

Andrew gripped his spear tighter, instinctively tensing. "What's going on here?" he muttered under his breath.

Qein's gaze swept over the scene, calm and detached. He didn't answer, but the subtle way his hand moved toward his bag spoke volumes. Together, they advanced, every watchful eye following their movements.