The Lord of the Forest, Bear-papa, had arrived.
I couldn't possibly face a ten-meter-class giant bear on my own, so I immediately decided to call for backup.
Yes, a distress signal! Help me!
I raised my vines high into the sky, calling for the Bee Monsters, my Lady Knights. I didn't stand a chance against Bear-papa by myself. He was looking at me like a common weed—completely beneath his notice. He looked down on me as a living creature; it wasn't even going to be a contest.
Wait, something was wrong. The Bee Monsters weren't coming. Usually, they would fly over in a heartbeat to protect me.
Just as the thought crossed my mind, my Lady Knight appeared. A single Bee Monster was flying toward Bear-papa's rear. Where were the others? One bee couldn't possibly win this.
Then, in a moment I would have rather avoided, I realized where the rest of them were. Bear-papa noticed the lone bee's approach and turned around. There, on his back, was the Bee Monster Army. Dozens of them were frozen stiff, their stingers still lodged in his hide. Every single one of them was dead.
My Lady Knights had already been wiped out. Without my knowledge, my Lily Garden had been demolished by this terrible father. It was the official announcement of the end of our Forest Circle.
I couldn't believe it. The Bee Monsters were gone, and we had finally become such good friends...
My only remaining ally was that single surviving Bee Monster. Well, one was better than none. Surely, we could repel Bear-papa with some kind of duo combination! We were partners, after all! Let's take this guy down together!
In the next moment, Bear-papa twisted his head with a swift, terrifying movement and lashed his long horns like a whip. The last Bee Monster was blown to smithereens instantly.
Ah... my allies were completely gone.
For the time being, I wanted to run away. But that wasn't an option. Why? Because I was a plant. Why don't plants have legs? Why must it be roots? Do we love the dirt that much? If only plants had evolved to be mobile eons ago because they wanted to taste different soil once in a while, I wouldn't be in this mess.
It couldn't be helped. I would just have to give it my all. This was my last stand. If I was going to win, a preemptive strike was my only hope.
A surprise attack! Go, vine whips!
They did absolutely nothing to him. I sprouted a cluster of Man-eaters on the vines to bite him, but his hide was too thick. It didn't even leave a scratch. I hardened the vines into tree trunks and slammed them down, but Bear-papa’s skin was harder. My trunks just snapped.
What was I supposed to do? Our levels were just too different. But I still had my trump card—one I already knew was effective from practical experience. I released Poison Pollen from my corolla directly at Bear-papa.
This had defeated the Honey-loving Perverted Bear in a single blow. Since they were related, it had to work on the father too!
Bear-papa rubbed his eyes as if they were itchy and sneezed. Then, he resumed his advance as if nothing had happened.
Wait, that was it? He only showed symptoms of hay fever? I was trying to commit a murder here!
Perhaps the dose was insufficient. It was a matter of lethal volume; unlike the Bear-cub, Bear-papa was massive. I kept pumping out the Poison Pollen until the entire area was blanketed in a thick Poison Mist. Surely, even the mighty Bear-papa would succumb to—
Suddenly, I felt an impact as if a hammer had slammed into my stomach. Bear-papa had uprooted a nearby tree and hurled it like a javelin. My Bulb took the hit. The Chloroplasts inside burst, and a massive hole opened in the side of my "mouth." Digestive Fluid began to trickle out.
It was the first time since becoming an Alraune that I had felt this much pain. It was nothing like having a vine cut; those grew in countless numbers and were basically just fingers or nails. But the Bulb was different. It was no exaggeration to say the Bulb was my true body.
I had suffered a fatal injury. If I were a normal Alraune, I would have died right then and there. However, I was no ordinary flower. Using the same principle as Super Recovery Magic, I forced the wounded part of the Bulb to grow rapidly. It regenerated to its original shape immediately, though the cost was staggering fatigue. I was so parched.
Before I knew it, the Poison Mist had cleared. Standing tall right in front of me was Bear-papa, who had closed the distance while I was distracted. The Poison Pollen hadn't worked. He was shedding tears of blood, but he wouldn't fall. He was incredibly stubborn.
Fine, then take another dose!
...Oh, it wouldn't come out. Whether it was because of the hole in my Bulb, the massive drain from the recovery, or I had simply run out of fuel, nothing came out. I was out of moves and out of weapons.
Bear-papa, who was now dripping a massive amount of drool along with those blood tears, looked like he had no intention of letting me escape.
Wait... drool?
Bear-papa’s nose was twitching, and he was dripping saliva onto the ground like a dog. I recognized this. It was the exact same behavior as that Honey-loving Perverted Bear.
Bear-papa’s objective was Nectar. I only just realized it, but his eyes were completely glazed over. The father of a Perorist was also a Perorist. Like father, like son.
Oh dear. Could it be that he hadn't even realized I was the one who killed his child? That was a relief, but also not. His goal wasn't to kill me for revenge, but to prey on my Nectar. Which meant I was still going to be attacked. He wouldn't eat me to death... right?
Bear-papa looked down at me and opened his mouth wide. From behind those ferocious fangs, a pale pink tongue appeared. Surprisingly, it was longer than I could have imagined—many times longer than a human’s. It was structured specifically to lick Nectar from deep within a hive.
The tongue lowered toward me. It was larger than my entire upper body. This was way too terrifying. My mind went blank from fear, and I just sat there with my mouth hanging open. Because of that, my Nectar-drool spilled out.
Bear-papa was fast. He gave my face a long, slurping lick. He was relishing the Nectar. His thick, sticky drool clung to me, a sensation so unpleasant it made goosebumps break out all over my body. He must have been a Perorist for decades. His tongue technique was one thing, but more than anything, he was stinky.
Bear-papa wanted more. I couldn't refuse him. My life was literally in his hands—or rather, his mouth. I was being licked all over. What humiliation! As a Former Saint, being licked by a wild bear was more than I could endure. The blood rushed to my head—though, as a plant, I didn't actually have blood anymore.
In my fury, I forgot one crucial thing: Laobubears have a habit of skewering prey on their horns to carry it back to their nests. Bear-papa must have taken a liking to the Nectar, because he actually tried to take me "to go."
He began to pull my body from the ground. My roots started to leave the earth. For a plant, this is the point of no return. Tension shot through my roots, and an alarm rang out through my entire body, screaming that I must not leave the soil.
If my roots were completely pulled out, it would be the end. My flower would wither, and I would never recover. Being uprooted was the same as being murdered. Once you leave the ground, your life as a plant is over. Instinctively, I realized that this was death.
I screamed.
But Bear-papa showed no mercy and lifted me up. As my vision faded to black, I felt the last of my roots snap.
I was being killed as a plant.