Aftereffects That Took Ten Years to Appear

Theresa sat upright on the tree branch, her eyes lowered as if in deep thought. Archer lounged not far from her, sprawled across another branch with a blade of grass between his lips, leisurely swinging in all directions. The sunlight was warm, and though layers of foliage cast shadows overhead, a few rays still slipped through the leaves, bathing them both. Their appearance could hardly be mistaken for beast hunters about to engage in mortal combat…

Suddenly, Theresa opened her eyes, emerald irises gleaming with a suppressed excitement, her back unconsciously straightening—

“It’s here!” she murmured, as though to herself, yet also for Archer’s benefit.

After about two minutes, a faint disturbance sounded from the southwest. Looking down from above, one could clearly see certain branches and leaves trembling unnaturally, the motion forming a visible line that traced the path of the unseen intruder. In a flash, a streak of golden light shot out from the forest like lightning, striking a tree trunk. The tree stood unharmed, but the golden streak used the impact to bounce off, accelerating in another direction. Almost as soon as it vanished, the trunk was peppered with a dozen sharp green needles, driven in with a rhythmic “thud-thud-thud.”

“Ah, so it’s a Needle-Sac Grass…” Theresa watched the battle below, thoughtful.

“You’re interested in it?” Archer raised an eyebrow—according to Theresa’s original plan, she meant to burn the beast away. Now, seeing her hesitation and the actions of the golden streak—her alchemical puppet, the Golden Spider—he guessed she had changed her mind.

Theresa nodded, half in inquiry and half in consultation. “Archer, look: the Needle-Sac Grass isn’t especially powerful, but it can attack from afar and defend up close. If I tame it as a lesser beast servant, it would be quite useful. What do you think?”

Beast servants were a form of magical beast control. With higher creatures, one would bind them with a Beast Contract, making them battle companions whose own power and consciousness remained intact. Lesser beasts, however, would be subdued by such means that erased their consciousness, leaving only mindless tools requiring constant direction in combat. One was a partner; the other, merely an instrument.

“Sounds good,” Archer approved. “You still rely on traps for fighting, which doesn’t really count as combat ability. With a beast servant, you could explore more ways to fight.”

Theresa’s eyes sparkled at his support. “Right? It’s a good idea, isn’t it? Then, I’ll leave it to you—catch it for me!”

With that, she seized the moment and, before Archer could react, kicked him off the tree—

“Ah, Tess, you villain… Hmph, you wretched vine, how dare you ambush me? Take this!” She had timed her kick perfectly: Archer’s complaints sounded as he fell straight into the Needle-Sac Grass’s alert zone. Meanwhile, the Golden Spider retreated, leaving the grass to focus all its attention on Archer…

…

Though she had sent Archer to deal with the Needle-Sac Grass, Theresa herself was far from idle. She leapt gracefully from the high branch—the Aubrion family’s intensive training had borne fruit; after only a few months, her agility surpassed most alchemists of her rank, even if she hadn’t yet reached the lowest tier of warriors.

Landing quietly on the ground, she first dismantled the trap meant to incinerate the beast, then set a new one designed to confine it. Only then did she slip up another tree nearby, directing the Golden Spider to dart into the battle zone. It waited for its chance, then sprang onto the drooping top of the Needle-Sac Grass, grasped the lone delicate pink flower, and wrenched it off before fleeing with unprecedented speed—

No, the Golden Spider failed to dodge the grass’s furious counterattack. Its tiny frame was flung hard by the plant, streaking through the forest and vanishing high into the sky… Triggered, the Needle-Sac Grass entered a berserk state, spitting green wooden needles in a relentless “thud-thud-thud” barrage, its whip-like body lashing out wildly against tree trunks, causing them to shudder.

Archer hadn’t expected Theresa to wear down the beast’s strength in this way. Caught off guard, he was forced into a rather sorry state, dodging the flying needles until he finally reached the safety of Theresa’s position. He grumbled, “You could’ve given me a warning before you started. If I get hurt or poisoned, you’ll be stuck tending to me—just making trouble for yourself.”

With the plan proceeding smoothly, Theresa was all smiles. Seeing the grass’s needle barrage slow and its lashes weaken, she knew the critical moment had come. Soon, the Golden Spider circled back, snatched the pink flower again, and the enraged Needle-Sac Grass thundered after it, charging straight into Theresa’s trap…

“Ah-ha, got it!” Theresa leapt to the ground, running to the trap with excitement. There she found a two-meter-long, vine-like green creature. She bounced in place, rubbed her face, then composed herself, her eyes still burning with fervor but her movements steady.

She poured on the hypnotic potion and waited ten seconds. Then Theresa crouched, grasped the now limp Needle-Sac Grass, traced a special magic glyph on her brow, and silently intoned—

Contract!

“Pff!” A mouthful of blood sprayed from Theresa’s lips, forming a mist in the air. At that moment, the grass—which should have been asleep—suddenly revived. One node on its body swelled several times its normal size, stretching the pale green skin to a translucent sheen. Through it, one could see a mass of wooden needles gathering inside, poised for a final eruption…

Archer calmly swung his blade, slicing the Needle-Sac Grass into three or four pieces, scattering it across the ground.

He sheathed his sword and crossed his arms, gazing at Theresa with an intense pressure in his eyes. She frowned, pouted faintly, and followed Archer down the mountain…

☆☆☆

“You said that, while signing the beast servant contract with the Needle-Sac Grass, it felt as if all your mental energy was drained at once—is that right?” Carol repeated Theresa’s question. All she could do was nod or shake her head…

Carol considered, then stood, placing his hand atop her head. His powerful mental strength surged forth. Theresa, at first curious and awed by his power, soon found her vision dimming as that sensation of her entire mind being forcibly drawn out returned with a flood—

Just as it became unbearable, the feeling abruptly vanished. Carol’s voice reached her as she hovered between waking and sleep, “Enough. Meditate for ten minutes, then rest.”

Ten minutes later, Theresa’s eyes shone as she looked at Carol, her thirst for knowledge so intense it would inspire any teacher to pour out their wisdom…

“Tess, I have two pieces of bad news. Which would you like first?” Carol asked cautiously.

“The worst first,” Theresa replied, her heart racing, barely knowing what to expect.

“First, your spiritual sense has a hidden injury, and it dates back to before you were born—either while you were still in the womb or just after. You suffered an attack that left this latent harm.”

Carol’s words struck Theresa like lightning—such injuries don’t show at lower ranks, but when she advanced to a mid-level alchemist, it would be a fatal flaw!

Instinctively, she searched her memory for the cause of this unknown wound. Her recollection rewound, and suddenly paused at a crucial moment. She understood, then smiled bitterly—

She remembered: the only time she had suffered damage to her spiritual sense was at her arrival in this world. Renee, pregnant and unaware, was wounded in a fierce battle. At the same time, her enemy tore open the void, allowing the struggling spirit, “Theresa,” to escape…

That baby—unnoticed even by Renee herself—vanished before ever fully forming, replaced by Theresa, a wandering soul from another realm…

That battle brought her to this world, and that battle wounded her spiritual sense. Compared to the former, the latter was trivial!

Having composed herself, she looked up at Carol with calm resolve. “Teacher, what’s the other bad news?”

Seeing her recover so quickly, Carol’s eyes flashed with approval as he replied, “The other bad news is: until you heal the hidden injury, you cannot sign any beast servant contracts. Moreover, your magical growth may also be affected!”

☆☆☆

Theresa sat amidst the lush green woods, idly rocking on a swing. Her mind was empty, her expression vacant, her entire being radiating an unusual sense of hollowness. The feeling was so strong that even her usually mischievous companions, Chirp and Crackle, kept their distance, whispering among themselves but not daring to disturb her. Only Woody remained loyal; after shooing the others away, it elegantly approached, leaped up, and sat beside her, asking, “What’s happened?”

One second, two, three… Nearly twelve seconds passed before Theresa lowered her gaze to it, her deep green eyes as hollow as exquisite jade, yet strangely beautiful.

“I’m hurt…” she said at last, her voice drifting, tinged with fatigue and faint despair… (To be continued)