The Great Turtle was furious.
Someone had dared to violate its territory.
And, unthinkable as it was, they were slaughtering its "beloved children."
How could it not be enraged? What parent wouldn't be consumed by wrath after their "beloved child" was murdered?
If it had been just one or two of the common brood, it might have overlooked the transgression. The number of children had become almost impossible to track, and they were nearly overflowing from the territory anyway. Any weakling who could be killed so easily was unnecessary, even if they shared its blood. Such deaths were merely a convenient way to thin the herd.
But a "beloved child" had been killed. This was different. Before it had even realized the extent of the threat, someone had laid hands on the very "beloved children" it had handpicked as candidates to succeed it.
A "beloved child" it had kept close had wandered off to play in an open area, only to be butchered by an intruder—a foreign object.
And then, the corpse had been devoured. Not even a fragment of the shell remained.
Ah, what had its child done to deserve such a fate?
There was no recourse left but retribution. It would exact vengeance for the common brood as well, all in one stroke.
Tracking the foreign object by its presence, the Great Turtle made its decision.
Yes. It would also have to take retribution against those Hairless Monkeys who had abandoned that foreign object in its woods.
To begin with, those Hairless Monkeys had left one of their own behind as an offering.
She was a monkey with a small amount of Magic Power. It had intended to let her age a bit, like meat on the bone, before eating her later.
But she had turned out to be a weapon meant to kill them.
In other words, those Hairless Monkeys had picked a fight with the Great Turtle—with him. They had declared war.
It would have to kill them all. Oh, yes. Retribution. A total massacre. Extermination. Extinction.
But first, it had to deal with the foreign object.
The Great Turtle called out to its remaining precious children, ordering them to stay close, and waited in its nest for the enemy to attack.
But then, the unthinkable happened—the foreign object fled.
The moment the turtle had shifted to a defensive stance, she tried to escape the territory.
If it let her escape now, it would never be certain which of the vermin was the foreign object, the true enemy. The Great Turtle could not distinguish one Hairless Monkey from another.
Actually, that didn't truly matter.
It could simply kill every last one of them.
It could slaughter them as soon as it found them, but then it would never know for sure if it had truly achieved retribution against the specific enemy who had murdered its child.
There were many of them. If even one escaped, and that survivor happened to be the culprit, the vengeance would be hollow.
Therefore, it had no choice but to pursue and kill her here and now.
The Great Turtle’s decision was swift.
Leaving its slow-moving children behind, it charged out to kill the foreign object, the intruder, the enemy.
As a parent, it had to set an example. An example of battle. Of war. Of the proper way to kill. An example of how to crush one's enemies.
It found her immediately. There she was. Kill.
First, the rain. It would reshape the environment to its advantage.
The weather had been clear lately. For the Great Turtle to move effectively, the air was far too dry—so dry that white powder puffed from its joints with every step.
And so, it called the rain. It prepared for war.
I acknowledge you. You are an enemy.
Therefore, I will crush you with everything I have.
Come, let us begin. I will do this.
Atone for your sins. With your life.
Pursued by the Great Turtle, Tria quickened her pace.
Since the Spirit had told her to run, she ran.
The massive creature, many times larger than a forest boar, crashed through the woods, mowing down trees as it gained on her.
She felt as if she could punch those massive eyeballs into mush right now, but she dismissed the thought. It was a mistake to think that way. Why? Because the Spirit had told her to run.
Fortunately, the Great Turtle was not exceptionally fast. While it was significantly quicker than the Young Turtles, Tria could still stay ahead of it as long as she ran at full power.
"Once we make it to the Safe Zone, we've got this. Hang in there, Tria!"
"Yes, Spirit-sama."
Tria did not experience fatigue. This body, these legs she had dedicated to the Spirit, could run forever without knowing weariness.
However, shortly after the Great Turtle fixed its gaze upon her, the situation changed.
Plip.
A drop of moisture touched her cheek.
Drip, drop, pitter-patter—the drizzle quickly turned into a downpour.
Rain. It was the first rain they had seen in a long time.
If it were just water, it wouldn't have mattered. But they were on a narrow mountain trail.
The footing became treacherous. Wet tree roots and slick grass were natural traps. She nearly slipped and fell twice.
The soil turned to mud, a viscous sludge that tried to anchor her feet in place. Every time she stepped on a sharp stone hidden beneath the muck, it sent a jolt of pain through her, even if it didn't pierce her skin. Tria was barefoot. Even with limbs granted by the Spirit, there were limits to what she could endure.
In short, it became extremely difficult to run.
On dry ground, she could maintain her lead. Now, her speed plummeted.
On the other hand, the Great Turtle charged forward, completely indifferent to the mud.
It was going to catch her. That prediction would soon become reality at this rate.
But Tria had no intention of fighting. Because the Spirit had said "run," she would run. She would do nothing else.
"Tria, which way to the Village? How much further?"
"It is just a bit further."
"Alright, then—"
She answered the Spirit's question.
But in the next instant, Tria's body was violently hurled sideways.
For a split second, her vision stained red.
What happened? As she rolled across the muddy ground, she looked back to see the Great Turtle stretching its neck.
It seemed she had been struck by its swinging head.
"Tria! Are you okay!?"
"...Yes. I will continue to flee."
"...I'd like to do that too, but... it doesn't seem like the other guy is willing to let us go."
She could hear the dejection in the Spirit's voice.
"Is there some way to break through... Rolling!"
"Yes!"
Tria threw herself into a roll the moment the Spirit commanded. The Great Turtle's massive foot slammed into the mud exactly where she had been a second before. She had narrowly escaped being crushed into a pulp.
"Can't we do something about this?"
"...?"
It seemed the Spirit was at a loss for what to do.
In that case...
"Spirit-sama. May I crush the Great Turtle's eyes?"
"! Can you do it?"
"Yes. Probably. Tria can do it, Spirit-sama."
Tria made her proposal. That was right. The Spirit was not someone who would ignore her input.
Furthermore, Tria realized that there were things even the Spirit did not know.
The Spirit was wise and knew many things. But she understood now, because she herself had once been part of the Halo. In that state, one cannot perceive everything instantly.
He hadn't fully grasped the extent of Tria's Combat Skills. Given that lack of information, it was only natural for him to judge that fleeing was their only option.
In high-stakes situations like combat or their current flight, where variables shifted in an instant, Tria's own assessment was a crucial piece of the puzzle.
She realized she had been negligent in failing to provide tactical feedback.
"Alright, let's do it. Crush the Great Turtle's eyeballs and then we run! If we take out its eyes, it'll have to slow down! If you can finish it off, go for it, but if it looks too dangerous, we bail immediately!"
"Let us proceed with that plan, Spirit-sama. Tria will work hard, okay?"
The battle with the Great Turtle began.
Apparently, she was authorized to kill it if the opportunity arose. Tria licked her lips, her mouth curling into a sharp, eager smile.