Osamaru Ta
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(WLTK) B2 - Chapter 30: "Gold Prize."
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 04:21:33 +0000 UTCBilly zipped down from the branches, his bubble bumping gently against Jeremiah’s shoulder, as he radiated waves of bright, infectious joy. Jeremiah, sprawled across the cool grass of the clearing, reached up and ruffled the kraken’s silky mantle, a wide grin stretching his face until it ached. “We did it, buddy,” he said, laughter lingering in his voice.
Overhead, Hazel balanced easily on a low branch, her grin sharp and vulpine in the filtered light. “Well done, Law Boy,” she called down, voice warm with approval.
Jeremiah cocked an eyebrow, still catching his breath. “What? Not going to say I cheated by calling in Billy or using the talismans?” His smirk half a challenge.
Hazel’s eyes sparkled. “Why would I? I said you couldn’t bond or kill them, remember? Didn’t say a thing about the rest.” She hopped lightly from the branch, landing beside him as silent as falling leaves. “Besides, a clever handler uses the tools they’ve got. Not my fault if you thought ahead.”
Jeremiah blinked, realizing he’d expected a lecture — maybe even wanted one. But Hazel’s logic cut straight through his doubt, and something eased inside him. He might have made some mistakes, but was wrong with using the tools he had thought to bring?
Hazel crouched down, tail sweeping a friendly arc across his arm. She leaned over with a conspiratorial grin. “So… what’d you learn?”
Jeremiah closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the clean, loamy scent of the forest. “Next time, I’m buying a net,” he said, the words muffled by his laughter.
She snorted, standing and dusting off her knees. “Or two. Trust me, you’ll want backups. Especially out here.”
Jeremiah let his arm drape across his face, allowing the aches and the sweet sting of exertion to settle in. “Guess I got cocky,” he admitted. “Thought I’d planned for everything. Turns out, I didn’t think of nearly enough.”
Hazel nudged his boot with her toe, her voice gentler. “You did better than most on their first trip into the Wyrd Wilds, Law Boy. Most people wander in without ever realizing, at least at first.” Her gaze drifted, focus turning to the deep shadows beneath the trees. “Even the ones with access to the Testing Grounds — your peers — they don’t usually think of half the things they’ll need. The promise of new power and treasures… It blinds you a bit. But they learn… if they make it that far.” A shadow flickered across her face. “If they survive.”
She extended her hand, fingers calloused and strong. Jeremiah accepted, letting her pull him smoothly to his feet. Hazel gave him a quick once-over, then turned toward Mero.
“So, boss — what’s your verdict? Did he pass?” she asked, a touch of mischief still in her tone.
Mero chuckled, his wings catching sunlight in sapphire shards. “Yer the one running this class. You tell me.”
Hazel turned back, appraising Jeremiah with a nod. “I can work with this,” she decided, though a resigned sigh slipped past her lips. “Even if you’re going to need a lot of it…”
Mero grinned. “You’ve always had a talent for the tricky ones. That’s why we put you on this job.”
Jeremiah shot them both a dry look, crossing his arms. “You know, I’m standing right here.”
Hazel jabbed him in the thigh with a claw-tipped finger. “Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself.”
She spun on her heel and strolled further into the clearing, her tail trailing behind. “Well? Go ahead and collect your prize before we move on.”
Jeremiah blinked, caught off guard. “My prize?”
Hazel shot him a look, eyebrow raised, and nodded toward the pair of beetles still writhing inside their makeshift snares. “Isn’t that why you came out here in the first place?”
Jeremiah’s eyes widened as realization crashed in. With the whirlwind of Hazel’s arrival and the impromptu lesson, he’d nearly forgotten why he’d been hunting beetles at all. Heat crept up his cheeks. He glanced sheepishly at Hazel, then moved to the subdued beetles.
Their minds, like the bark beetle before, offered little more than raw, prickly instinct. Attuning them was simple — just a flicker of mental effort, met with the dull resistance of something that didn’t know how to refuse. Once the bond took hold, Jeremiah purchased two more transport containers from the System store, the items appearing in his hand with a pulse of blue light. He gently scooped each beetle into its own case. Both beetles immediately set to battering the reinforced plastic with every ounce of stubborn energy, their horns scraping against the transparent walls, to little effect.
Jeremiah chuckled, unable to help himself. “Stay feisty, you two. I’ve got big plans.”
Mero arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking in amusement. “Oh? Now you’ve got me intrigued.”
Jeremiah shot him a mock glare. “No spoilers,” he said, flashing a grin as he summoned the Big Book of Beasts and stored both beetles safely within its pages.
Mero gave a rumbling laugh. “Very well. Though aren’t you forgetting something?”
Jeremiah glanced up, puzzled. “Forgetting what?”
Mero gestured toward the fallen log, where the beetles’ duel had taken place.
Curiosity prickled at Jeremiah. He stepped over, crouching to peer at the battered wood. At first, he saw only splinters and moss, but then, through a jagged crack in the log, he glimpsed a flash of gold. He leaned in, fingers prying at the edges. The rotten timber came apart with a gritty snap, scattering flakes of bark and earth.
Nestled within the cavity was a beetle unlike any he’d seen before: twice again the size of the previous two, its shell gleaming a deep, burnished gold, and a long, spade-shaped horn curving elegantly from its head. It sat there, regal and unmoving, in a bed of rotting wood and ash, as if awaiting discovery.
——————✴——————
Ferrospark Matron (Female)
Grade: G - 0.96
Mental: (G) 0.1
Physical: (G) 0.8
Supernatural: (G) 0.06
Rarity: Rare
Pedigree: ★★★★
Ecology: Ferrospark Matrons are the seldom-seen queens of their species, distinguished by their substantial size, lustrous gold exoskeletons, and broad, spade-shaped horns. Unlike their smaller, combative male counterparts, Matrons do not duel for territory or mates; instead, they command respect through presence and subtle pheromonal influence. During the breeding season, males compete in dazzling horn duels to earn the right to share a nest with a Matron, who selects her mate based on strength, spark, and the quality of the nest he prepares.
Once a site is chosen, the Matron excavates deep burrows beneath ancient logs, where she lays a clutch of eggs in beds of nutrient-rich ash and rotting wood. Her golden shell is more than mere ornamentation: it is the product of years spent metabolizing rare minerals and raw ore, and serves as camouflage among the sun-dappled roots as well as armor against would-be predators.
Ferrospark Matrons are fiercely protective and will defend their nests with swift, heavy charges or by using their broad horns to upend threats. Their touch is said to bring good fortune in some local folklore, and their presence is a sure sign of a healthy, mineral-rich forest.
Warning: While less aggressive than males outside of nesting season, a threatened Matron can deliver a powerful blow with her horn and is not easily deterred.
Handle with caution—especially if eggs or young are present.
——————✴——————
Jeremiah let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at his own obliviousness. Of course the two males would have been fighting over something. He should have guessed — nature rarely staged a duel without stakes, and now, with the matron sprawled in regal repose among the decaying wood, the logic was as plain as the golden gleam of her shell.
He leaned closer, brushing away another loose curl of bark, careful not to startle her. She regarded him with a pair of dark, bead-bright eyes, unmoving, her horn rising in a slow, languid arc as if appraising him. Jeremiah hesitated, breathing in the damp, mineral tang that clung to her burrow. He reached for the familiar thread of attunement, half expecting the blunt, wall-like resistance of the previous beetles — but what he found was something altogether different.
Where the male beetles’ minds had been a frantic muddle of charge, defend, survive, the matron’s presence was… layered. Not deep, not complex in the way a more complex beast’s might be, but there was a sort of decision-making here — a weighing, a subtle rhythm of consideration. He glimpsed flickers of evaluation: the richness of the earth, the comfort of ash beneath her body, the presence of minerals near at hand, the echo of distant vibrations from the dueling log above. There was a simplicity, yes, but also an odd, deliberate logic. It wasn’t sentience. Not quite. But it pressed at the edges of something more than instinct.
Jeremiah let his intent brush against her, gentle, coaxing, offering the barest suggestion of connection. The matron didn’t flinch or bristle. If anything, the atmosphere felt warm, almost — he groped for the word — content? There was a patient, accepting steadiness in the way she met his touch, a sense of… approval? The difference from the males was striking.
Then, as smoothly as a gear sliding into place, the System’s touch rippled through him.
——————❇——————
Attunement Complete
Unnamed - [Ferrospark Matron]
Connection: Weak
——————❇——————
Jeremiah blinked, momentarily stunned as the threads of a proper attunement settled across his mind. The bond was real, delicate but solid — like a thin gold wire spun between two worlds. He took a breath, testing the sensation, marveling at how it was both more responsive and more nuanced than anything he’d managed with the other beetles. The matron simply waited, neither threatened nor alarmed, exuding an odd serenity.
A sharp whistle sliced through his thoughts. “Oi, Jerry-boy! Something wrong?” Mero called from his perch on the log, sapphire wings buzzing with anticipation.
Jeremiah looked up, still half-lost in the afterglow of the bond. “No, no — nothing’s wrong,” he managed, his words coming out a little dazed. “That just went… smoother than I was expecting, is all.”
Hazel hopped down from the root where she’d been observing, arms folded, tail swishing in slow satisfaction. “Why wouldn’t it?” she teased, mouth quirking. “She just watched you come stomping in, challenge both her gallant knights to honorable combat, and best them in record time.” Her gaze sparkled with mischief. “Of course she’s satisfied.”
Jeremiah’s brow furrowed, the meaning of her words drifting over him like a slow dawn, and he felt a slow, mounting horror dawn in his chest. “Oh, no—” he muttered.
Mero let out a whoop of laughter so sharp and sudden it startled a flock of unseen birds from the canopy above. He slapped the log with his palm, wings flickering in delight. “Didn’t see that one coming, did ya? That’s one for the books!”
Hazel’s laughter chimed in, warm and knowing, but Jeremiah was already moving — quick and businesslike, but with a blush creeping up his neck. He fumbled a new container from the System store, slid it carefully around the Matron, and sealed the latch with perhaps more haste than was strictly necessary. She barely seemed to notice, settling inside the transparent box with queenly dignity, as if she’d expected this outcome from the start.
“Right,” Jeremiah muttered, half to himself, summoning the Big Book of Beasts with a flick of will. The tome appeared in his hands, pages riffling expectantly. He pressed the container gently against its cover, felt the pulse of System magic as the matron — shell, horn, regal poise, and all — was swept away into the secure hush of stasis.
Billy zipped close, bobbing in the air, radiating a questioning concern down their bond. Jeremiah managed a weak smile, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I’m fine, Billy. Just… maybe not as clever as I thought.”
Hazel’s tail flicked him gently in the shin. “Look on the bright side,” she said, grin wide and feral. “You got what you came for, and didn’t even run into anything that wanted to eat you! That’s a win if I ever heard of one.”
Jeremiah groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t give the Wilds any ideas.”
Mero, still chuckling, drifted down to rest on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “All part of the journey, kid. You’ll have stories for days when you get back — if you choose to tell them.”
Jeremiah shot him a look, then let himself laugh, shaky but genuine. The tension drained from his shoulders, replaced by a tentative pride.
He squared himself, scanning the battered log, the slowly drifting clouds, and the strange, ever-shifting green of the Wilds. “All right,” he said at last, voice steadier, “what’s next on the lesson plan, Caretaker?”
Hazel’s answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Oh, you’ll see. The day’s still young, Law Boy.”
And with that, she bounded ahead into the tangled shadows.
——————————————————
Jeremiah hurried after Hazel, the damp hush of the forest closing in behind them. Sunlight filtered through veils of leaves overhead, painting shifting lattices on Hazel’s bobbing tail as she darted ahead, always a few steps beyond reach, boots soundless on moss and fallen needles. Billy zipped alongside, his bubble glinting in odd beams, now and then spinning slow circles around Jeremiah’s head before darting off after some imagined scent. Every so often, a patch of ferns rustled, or a twig snapped underfoot—Jeremiah could never tell if it was beast, guide, or simply the forest itself, playing tricks with distance.
With no clear idea where they were going, and Hazel’s back an ever-moving target, Jeremiah let his mind drift. He drew up his System interface, the familiar flicker of blue light skating across his vision. With a thought, he called up the Ferrospark Matron’s talismans, curiosity prickling despite the day’s weariness.
——————✴——————
〖Beast Talisman Shop〗
[Unnamed] - [Ferrospark Matron] - G Rank
[Quantum Marks]: 851
—✦—
Matron’s Aegis
Rank: G
Keywords: Armor - Barrier - Temporary Fortitude
Description: “Long Live the Queen!”
Draw upon the protective power of the Ferrospark Matron. For one minute, your skin gains the resilience of the Matron’s golden shell, rendering you resistant to most mundane physical damage and blunting the force of non-magical blows up to F-Rank. Strikes that would break the skin instead leave only bruises or minor cuts. You feel a subtle, grounding calm — the Matron’s stoic presence enfolding you.
Uses: 3
Requirements: Physical contact with bare earth or stone.
Cost: 10
—✦—
Ashen Blessing
Rank: F
Keywords: Cleansing, Protection, Minor Healing
Description: “A Matron’s nest is always kept free from blight and pest alike.”
Summon the Matron’s protective aura. Use this talisman to create a wave of fine, silvery ash that settles over up to a five-meter radius. The ash purifies the area, neutralizing toxins, pest infestations, and most minor diseases or fungal growths affecting plants, animals, or exposed wounds. For one hour after activation, creatures within the circle enjoy increased resistance to disease and minor poisons. Wounds and injuries heal slightly faster in the treated area. This talisman is affected by environmental factors such as rain or wind.
Uses: 2
Requirements: Open air equal to or greater than five meters; the effect is weaker in heavy rain.
Cost: 20
—✦—
——————✴——————
He blinked, lips twitching as he read through the details. Only two talismans. That tracked — he’d barely managed a weak attunement, and his past experience told him it’d take a stronger bond to unlock more. Still, both options seemed far more practical than he’d anticipated. The first was a straight shot of physical protection, a layer of metallic resilience spun from the Matron’s own. Never a bad thing, especially in a world where even “small” beasts came armed with blades and armor.
But it was the second talisman that caught his attention, and he had to stifle a short, surprised laugh. It wasn’t offensive at all, not directly — not claws or poison, but something gentler. Purifying. A cloud of ash that swept away pests, toxins, and disease — a “healthy bug bomb,” he thought, shaking his head. The kind of trick a city-dweller would pay through the nose for, if it could be marketed right. A thousand uses sprang to mind: treating a kennel outbreak, clearing a garden, or making a safe camp in a sketchy patch of woods.
He dismissed the screens with a flick of thought, letting the details settle into his mental inventory. Ideas chased each other through his head, half-formed pitches and ad slogans tumbling into one another. He would need to see how much of the effect transferred back to Nexus proper, but the potential was undeniable.
After a while, the march through tangled brush and sun-dappled gloom began to wear at his patience. Every step felt both aimless and inevitable, as if they’d been looping in a spiral rather than forging ahead. Finally, he broke the silence.
“How much farther is it, anyway?” he called, pitching his voice to carry. “Feels like we’ve been hiking forever.”
Hazel stopped dead ahead, her outline framed in a shaft of gold-green light. She spun, grinning wickedly, her tail flicking behind her like a challenge. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
Jeremiah blinked, nearly tripping over an exposed root. “What?”
Hazel’s eyes danced, feral and bright. “Why don’t you tell me?” she repeated, spreading her hands in a gesture that could have been an invitation or mockery.
He stopped, squinting at her, genuine confusion settling in. “Aren’t you the one leading us? Wasn’t that the whole point? You said you were supposed to keep me from wandering off a cliff.”
Hazel’s grin never faltered. “I am leading you.” She tilted her head, eyes glittering. “But you’ve not decided where we end up.”
Jeremiah frowned, pressing the heel of his hand to his brow. “That… makes no sense. How can you lead me if you don’t know where we’re going?”
She shrugged, laughter bubbling up. “Because you haven’t decided yet, Law Boy.”
His frustration spiked. “Are you screwing with me?” he demanded, half a heartbeat from real annoyance.
Hazel’s laughter burst out bright and wild, echoing through the trees. She doubled over, hands on her knees, tail flicking in delight. But before Jeremiah could get properly worked up, she straightened and held out a hand, her voice steadying. “No, I’m not screwing with you. Promise.”
She took a step closer, her expression softening. “I’ve told you before, Wyrd Wilds aren’t like your city streets. Here, ‘where’ you’re going isn’t half as important as what you’re looking for.” She tapped her temple with a claw. “That’s why wanderers get lost and how dreamers find doors. If you want to get somewhere, you have to know what you’re trying to find. Otherwise, you’ll just keep circling the same tree until your boots rot.”
She folded her arms, smirking again, challenge in every line. “So, Law Boy — what is it, exactly, that you want to find?”
