The howls shook the forest, the trees and perhaps even mana itself. Wichita wasn’t sure about the third one, but that was what her senses told her. If one of those things was near, then she would not be able to survive. Affecting that amount of mana in what was probably not even an attack…that was far more powerful than she could hope to face.

  “Don’t run away this time.” she demanded of the needle. “I don’t think I will be able to save you if you do.”

  The needle didn’t respond, but at least it didn’t shoot towards anything. Wichita wasn’t sure what she should do. Standing here might anger the snakes, and they were making quite a ruckus. Whatever beast ruled here might come to investigate. But if she moved, she might head into the territory of an even stronger beast. Like one of the ones howling.

  The sheer amount of noise in the forest was strange. The trees were shaking. The snakes were screeching like, well, like someone had killed their child. Wait. The trees were shaking. Wichita jumped away from a tree, running as fast as she could.

  This area she entered was less stable than the snake’s. There were more cracks, meaning she couldn’t really afford to run. Not at any decent speeds, at least. Even the Heart of Ambition had trouble calming her nerves now. There was a threat here, something that was making the trees shake.

  But she did not know where that something was. Where it would emerge from, and whether it was interested in eating her. A flash of yellow emerged in her vision, and she wasted little time in commanding the needle to shoot towards it. The claw went through her body as the needle went through the beast’s arms.

  A trickle of blood ran through the injury, but it closed up quickly. Wichita’s eyes narrowed. Not the leopard. This one was strange. A quadrupedal thing that she did not recognize. A new mutation? Three Ages was more than enough time for there to be a variety of strange beasts wandering around that she did not know of.

  But that only heightened her fear. Wichita had the needle make another pass at it, but she had a sneaking suspicion it would do little good. The beast clawed at her, with a normal claw unenhanced by magic.

  And it did so again. Wichita let it, even though she dodged before it could sink its teeth in. The thing was fast, as all creatures in this forest all seemed to be. Like it was a prerequisite for survival here. There was strange purplish stuff dripping out of its teeth that she could have sworn was poison.

  A predator. But not a predator of Arcana. The beast's claws, fangs, and poison would not affect her. There would be some loss of mana, and in time she might find herself dying because of it, but it would be a fight of attrition at that point.

  The problem was, it was difficult for her to kill the beast too. The needle emerged once again from the beasts body, having pierced through it’s belly this time. The wound closed quickly once more. Of course. The beast did not have much mana for the needle to eat, so it had limited usefulness in this scenario.

  Wichita aimed it at the beasts’ head, hoping that an injury there would be debilitating enough for it to give up pursuit. Perhaps it would just see her as not worth hunting. The beast ate meat, and she didn’t have any to give it.

  A searing pain flashed through her back, one she had grown far too familiar with. Wichita cut off the part of the body as quickly as she could, though she still lost too much mana. A crack. The beast took advantage of her distraction, jumping towards her.

  Wichita was not foolish enough to not defend itself. For all she knew it had some teeth specific magic attack that would be able to hurt her. The needle shot towards its eyes, ready to make a hole in the beast’s brain.

  The beast reared it’s head back, the needle falling into its mouth. Wichita called it back rather furiously. The poison might corrode the needle’s body, and she could not have that. The beasts did not give pause as it lunged towards her, seemingly angered by something.

  Well, she wasn’t in the business of letting such an opportunity go. Taking a slight step back, she pushed the beast into the crack, watching as its claw touched it. The beast attempted to lung at her, it’s claws piercing through the mana strings of her dress as they dispersed mana where her heart would be. If she were human.

  The crack did what it liked to do, swallowing the beast hole, and she had survived another encounter.

  [Forgotten Queen] has reached level 3

  Skill gained: [Forgotten Melody]

  Wichita blinked. That…wasn’t a surprise. Yes, killing that beast should have netted her a level at her Tier. For some reason she just hadn’t thought of it. But now she had a new Skill.

  [Forgotten Melody] : The Forgotten Queen has danced in streets of magic, heard the roars of beasts and felt pain worthy of screams. Now she looks outward, watching for what melody drives others to their goals, or away from them.

  That may be useful. Wichita wasn’t sure what the Skill was exactly, but she figured she would find out. Perhaps it could serve as a detection Skill? Flicking it on with a push of her will, she found herself drowning in music.

  No, that wasn’t right. The music wasn’t loud, it didn’t pierce her ears or have a physical presence like the howls did. But it was too much all the same. The trees spoke to her, trying to tell her something. The dirt, every little piece of dirt. The air. The water in the air. The fire that wanted to burn.

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  The things spoke to her, and for a second she thought she had it handled. Then it increased. The trees spoke, the leaves spoke. The air joined, with water giving its opinion. Fire was silent, or perhaps she did not feel it. Then space entered the picture. A hundred, a thousand things spoke into her mind at once. A conversation, a melding of things that just kept increasing…

  Wichita turned it off before it gave her a dizzy fit. This was a Skill that would need practice, perhaps some experience. But she had a feeling about what she was sensing. Fae magic. This was a Fae magic detection skill, or rather one that could help her guide others’ Stories.

  Not something that would help her in the forest, not unless she found a way to practice it. Wichita scoffed. Of course not. How could she be so lucky?

  Turning around, she looked at the forest again. The noises had died down a bit, but not by much. There were shuffling sounds around her, as if beasts were moving here and there at a rapid pace. Wichita moved towards them. Just about every beast she had found had some way of rapid movement. Like it was required to survive.

  The howling beasts.

  Perhaps one of them was slow enough that escape was an option. Perhaps all three of them shared the same characteristic. The howling had been eerily similar, and it was not unreasonable to presume that it was a small group of beasts.

  A bit small for the pack, but she did not have time to worry about that. The beasts would know where to go to hide, what was a safe path that they could -

  Wichita jumped, and then rolled away on the ground as the defensive enchantments on her dress flared for once. Rot mana. No, something similar enough to activate them. Jumping upright, she looked for the beast, but found herself unable to sense it.

  Well, thankfully for her, she had someone that — where’d the needle go? Wichita looked around in alarm before ducking from a dog-like body that, for some reason, had paws reminiscent of a monkey’s. A very dead body.

  The barely visible silhouette of the needle shot towards another tree as more of these creatures began to emerge. Ten, twelve, fifteen…seventeen. Wichita had to give up counting as they began lunging at her.

  Why — the needle. The fuckers thought that she was the one controlling the needle, didn’t they? The flashing Space magic on their paws told her that she would not survive it if any of them managed to attack her. Thankfully, she had an idea.

  The enchantments on her dress were difficult to change with the lack of materials and suitable mana in this forest. There was a lot of Space mana, but little of the pure mana she needed to counter it. But she could alter the enchantments a teeny tiny bit. There was enough Stability and Resistance mana in there for an enchantment that repelled creatures with Rot mana.

  And that was what these dog-monkey creatures were. Rot and Space mana, a terrifying combination…if one could figure out how to teleport mana. Thankfully, these creatures hadn’t. Wichita punched the monkey in the face, feeling the strain in her mana. The dog-monkey growled, raising its paw to strike at her.

  Then her enchantment flared. A Master enchanter could alter enchantments very quickly. And she was altering enchantments she had made herself. Not a difficult proposition. The dog-monkey was thrown back onto a waiting needle, that promptly started eating it.

  But more dog-monkeys were pouring in by the second, and she did not have time to think about it anymore. The things growled, approaching her and biting at her as her enchantments flared, and then began to fray.

  Wichita growled as she pushed mana back into the enchantments, trying to stabilize them as the dog-monkeys approached her. The needle was eating monkeys as fast as it could, but it wasn’t fast enough. The things didn’t care when their comrades died, they just wanted to make a meal out of her. Oh, right. The mana.

  That was why they were here, for the plentiful amounts of mana in her body. More than enough to evolve them into something stronger. Well, she had no intention of becoming a meal. Wichita kicked out, using stability mana to reinforce her leg as she kicked a palm. The beast in question barked in pain as her kick pierced through.

  Arcana could not interact with the world easily, but they had an advantage when they did. The Mana stat might not wholly translate into a strength stat, but it was good enough. The stability mana was still something that would hurt a space-attuned creature, and the sheer amount of mana she put into it was worth even more. But it wasn’t even injuring them, just hurting them a bit to make them fall back.

  Wichita kicked some more of them, just sweeping her legs as she felt her back come against a tree. The spacial cracks in the area had disappeared, likely being stabilized by the creatures before her. The same creatures that were now running away.

  Had her hurting one of them scared her? Why would they — Wichita heard a growl, a loud, threatening growl that she feared she might not forget again in her life. The kind that shook the forest, and apparently scared beasts away.

  Not daring to turn around, she clung to the tree, sensing with her mana sense. A long, coiling form with…were those legs? Wichita felt the mana that ran through them. Yes, it was legs. And it was located somewhere familiar — the snakes! That was where it was!

  A cold, icy breath emerged from what she presumed was its mouth. The icy breath was far more visible to her senses, clearly mana of some sort. Not plain ice mana, she would recognize that. This she didn’t recognize.

  The forest was suddenly very, very silent. Like everyone in it was too afraid to move. One of the howlers, she was sure of it. The beast turned back, it’s legs moving away slowly this time. As if it was observing its surroundings for more prey. Wichita felt its presence in the back of her mind, making even her Heart go silent in fear as she attempted to look as small as possible.

  The footsteps drew near, and she grew even more panicked. The legs stopped right next to her, a sniffing sound audible as she felt the huge coiling body turn around. The tree shook with weight as Wichita looked up, slowly, too afraid to make any quick actions.

  A whisker-laden nose reminiscent of a wolf’s was resting on a three, it’s nostrils flaring every few seconds. The beast had found her then. Wichita once again found herself waiting for her death as the beast sniffed above her.

  A sniff. Then another. A third as it moved it downwards, the whiskers touching her hair. Wichita closed her eyes and waited for her death…while sending her needle to see if there was anything it could poke.

  Then it moved away. The young Queen did not manage to move for a whole second, not realizing that she had been spared. Then she took advantage of the stabilized space and ran for her life, her needle rushing to catch up to her.