The Hollow Moth: Reincarnated as a Caterpillar

We continue exploring the Fifth Zone.

And yeah—everything here wants us dead, but like, more enthusiastically.

The monsters are tougher. Smarter. Hungrier. I've taken a few hits—not enough to cripple me, but enough to sting. Enough to remind me that hovering and firing spines isn't a free win button anymore.

But the one we're facing now?

It's... bad.

It stands tall in the clearing, hunched shoulders like boulders, fur matted with moss and strange fungus. Its arms are long, powerful—knuckle-dragging like some oversized ape. A giant monkey monster.

Sounds manageable, right?

Except—

Stay with me.

On top of its head is a tiara.

Yes. A tiara. A polished silver crown set with carved engravings.

And embedded right in its center… is a stone.

A familiar one.

"Don't say it," I whisper.

Tessa glances at me. "Say what?"

I look over at Morven.

He's already squinting at the monster with this look that's way too serious.

"Morven," I hiss, "tell me that's not what I think it is."

He doesn't answer right away.

Instead, he calmly pulls his spear from his back. "It's resonating with me," he says, voice low. "That stone… One of mine."

Of course it is.

Of course, the reason we're in this part of the Fifth Zone is because he felt a magical version of déjà vu and said, "Hey, let's go this way, what could possibly go wrong?"

Turns out what could go wrong is a monkey monster with magic headwear.

Fantastic.

"Okay, Morven," I say, still floating a cautious distance back as the monkey beast beats its chest once, vines rustling from its fur like living decorations. "That stone is part of you, right? So enlighten me. What does it do?"

He doesn't answer immediately. Just watches the creature with that too-calm, too-calculating stare, spear angled low.

"Because I remember the one we fought last time," I continue. "That fragment barely did anything. Just gave some minor pain resistance or something. This one?"

I gesture toward the tiara with a nudge of telekinesis.

"This one screams major boost. Like Orbed-tier. Like 'I'm-the-main-boss-of-this-subsection' energy."

The monster roars in response, cracking the ground beneath it. Trees sway. Birds scatter. Even Tessa stops chewing her tail and actually focuses.

Morven exhales through his nose.

"That's because," he says slowly, "this part of me wasn't just emotion or memory."

He tightens his grip on the spear.

"This one holds instinct. Combat instinct."

Ah. Great.

So we're fighting a giant monkey with magic armor, a magical artifact in its head, and now it knows how to fight.

Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

Tessa growls, already lowering herself into a crouch.

"Aahhh, too much talking!" she barks. "Let's just fight the monke already!"

"Mutt, hold up," I say, shifting higher in the air. "I know you're excited and all but—"

Whrrm—a chunk of stone whips through the air.

I jerk sideways just in time, the rock flashing past me with enough force to crater a tree behind.

"—but maybe let me finish first?"

The monkey doesn't wait. It's already scooping up another boulder with one massive hand, eyes locked on me like it knows I'm the annoying one in the sky.

"Alright. Fine. If you wanna play that way…"

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Three arcane spines slice through the air in quick succession, trailing soft glow as they sink into the beast's fur and flesh—chest, shoulder, arm.

Direct hits.

And it barely flinches.

The monster growls low, then stands taller.

"Oh," I murmur. "So that's how it's gonna be."

"Action is coming!" Tessa yells, and just like that, she's off—blazing toward the monkey with fire licking at her paws and way too much enthusiasm in her eyes.

The beast reacts immediately, slamming its fists into the ground and kicking up a wave of dirt and moss, but Tessa's already mid-leap, teeth bared, claws glowing.

Meanwhile, Morven?

He's still just standing there.

Hand raised. Fingers curling. Drawing something in the air.

"Uhh, Morven?" I call, hovering up and sideways to avoid another incoming rock the monkey launched like a damn baseball. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing a spell," he says, calm and composed as ever, even as the battlefield erupts around him.

"Cool, cool, no rush or anything," I mutter, flicking another spine into the monkey's shoulder. "We're only fighting a tiara-wearing ape with divine combat instincts."

Tessa charges through the air, fire trailing behind her like a comet. For a second, it's almost cinematic—fangs out, claws glowing, eyes locked on the target.

And then—

WHAM.

The monkey moves fast. Way too fast for something that big.

It twists its body and swings one massive arm up in a wide arc, palm open, vines flaring around its wrist like whips.

It swats Tessa out of the air like she's a bug. A flying, flaming, overly confident bug.

She crashes into a tree with a loud thud, the trunk splintering from the impact. Leaves and bits of bark rain down as she slides to the ground in a heap of limbs and grumbling.

"Ow," she groans, voice muffled.

I wince. "Okay. Not cinematic. Definitely not cinematic."

The monkey beats its chest once, like it's mocking us.

Morven, still mid-gesture, mutters, "Told you to wait."

"Yeah," I snap. "But you're also doing finger painting in the air, so maybe move it along?"

The monkey lets out a guttural roar and slams its fists into the ground before charging straight at us, shaking the earth with each step.

"Help me out a little—cover!" Morven barks, his voice edged with strain as his handwork grows more intricate.

I sigh. "Well, I'm not exactly the melee type right now, but… fine."

I surge forward, cocoon gliding into the beast's path. The monkey reacts instantly, one massive arm swinging wide.

I drop low. The strike whips past just over my shell.

It follows up with a brutal downswing—
I jolted left.

Another swipe, fast and brutal—
I snap upward in a sharp hover.

The next comes from the side—
I cut right.

Up, down, left, right. My body jerks in sharp corners, the glow of my cocoon streaking like a frantic lantern. Each blow narrowly misses, slamming into trees, ripping trenches in the ground, splintering stone.

"Still not melee," I mutter, darting out of reach for a heartbeat, "but at least I make a decent fly impression."

The monkey snarls, eyes burning, frustrated with every whiff.
Morven's voice cuts through: "Keep it busy—I'm almost there."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Morven," I snap between sharp pivots, narrowly slipping past another swipe that sends dirt and moss spraying up in my wake, "do me a favor and never say something like that ever again."

He doesn't answer—too focused on whatever spell he's weaving.

Fine. That's on me then.

I keep dodging, ducking beneath the monster's arm, juking sideways as its claws tear bark and stone like wet paper. My movements are sharper now, cleaner—the training with telekinesis finally showing its worth.

And then I see it.

Headroom.

The beast rears back for another swing, chest wide open, crown tilted just enough.

I hover steady for a fraction of a second, mana building hot in my bristles.

"Alright," I mutter. "My turn."

BOOM.

The Arcane Blast rips free—brilliant and forceful, striking the monkey square in the torso. It staggers back with a furious roar, smoke curling from its chest where the energy detonated.

Not perfect, not enough to topple it—but harder than before. Way harder.

I hover higher, heat thrumming in my core. "Guess practice does pay off."

The monkey reels from the Arcane Blast, clutching at its chest, snarling like it wants to tear the entire forest apart with its bare hands.

Perfect opening.

I focus, every strand of mana in me tightening around a single point. Not a volley this time. Just one spine.

I let it slide free from my cocoon with a sharp thwip—but instead of letting it fly on its own, I grip it with kinetic manipulation, pushing every ounce of precision I've been practicing into the motion.

Fwoooosh.

The spine rockets forward, trailing a thin streak of silver-blue light.

The monkey tries to dodge, twisting its torso at the last second, instincts screaming.

Too late.

The spine tears through its shoulder, bursting out the other side in a spray of bark-flesh and green ichor. Not a clean kill—not vital—but enough to make it howl in fury, staggering again, arm twitching as it loses strength.

I hover higher, bristles humming with mana. My chest tightens with the rush.

"Yeah," I whisper. "The fruits of practice."

The beast steadies itself, slamming one massive fist into the ground before pushing forward again. Its roar rattles the trees, its eyes burning with furious intent.

It charges—full speed, no hesitation, the ground shaking under its weight.

"Fine, round two," I mutter, pulling another spine free and snapping it forward with kinetic acceleration.

Thwip—fwoosh!

The spine whistles past… and the monster twists at the last second, the projectile slicing through nothing but fur and air.

"Damn it—"

No time. I flare my bristles and unleash a rapid volley— thwipthwipthwipthwipthwip —dozens of glowing needles cutting across its chest and arms. They land. They sink. But the monster doesn't even flinch. Doesn't slow.

And then—

The shadow of its fist is suddenly on me.

It's huge. Bark-knuckles, vines trailing, slamming forward with enough force to pulp me in a single blow.

For a heartbeat, all I see is the rush of motion.

And then I push.

Telekinesis surges from me, mana roaring as I throw everything into holding it back.

The fist halts—inches from me, so close the wind pressure presses against my cocoon, vibrating through my shell.

I grit my focus, every thread of mana straining.

Hovering there, locked in a deadlock with a monster three times my size.

"Oh no," I hiss through clenched thought, "not today."

I shove sideways, telekinesis snapping free as I dart out of the punch's path.

The giant fist slams down past me, crashing into the earth hard enough to spray dirt and roots skyward. The force rattles my cocoon, but I manage to hold my balance, wings of mana steadying me in the air.

The monkey stumbles forward from its own momentum, chest heaving, breath like hot compost.

"Ha," I mutter, hovering just out of reach. "Thought you had me, didn't you—"

BAM.

Something slams into my side.

The world spins, my senses lurching as I'm whipped through the air like a toy. Pain shoots through my body as I realize—
Its tail.

Long, bark-armored, thorn-lined tail. I didn't even sense it coming until it cracked against me.

I slam into the ground, skidding across moss and stone, every part of me rattling.

Groaning, I hover shakily back up, mana buzzing unevenly in my bristles.

"…Okay," I cough out. "So it's got range too. Noted."

The monkey's attention snaps past me and locks onto Morven, who's still standing there, eyes closed, arms weaving slow, deliberate motions.

"Morven!" I yell, my voice sharper than I meant. The beast barrels forward, ground quaking under its charge. "Anytime now!"

Before it can reach him, Tessa streaks past—fangs bared, fur bristling. She lunges straight for its tail, biting down hard and yanking with all her weight. The monster roars, twisting, trying to shake her loose, vines snapping like whips as it thrashes.

Morven finally opens his eyes.

And for a second, I swear I see something ancient flicker there.

Around him, the air shimmers hot—then ignites. One by one, flaming projectiles blossom into existence, circling his body like a fiery constellation.

He lifts his hand, fingers cutting the air in a sharp command.

"Inferno Missiles."

The flames answer, breaking formation and streaking toward the monkey in a volley of burning comets.

Tessa yanks once more on the monkey's tail, then leaps back, paws skidding across moss as she retreats to safety.

The first missile slams into the beast's chest.

BOOM.

Fire erupts, bark-flesh shattering, vines curling in flame.

The second collides with its shoulder, snapping it back a step—
BOOM.

The third, fourth, and fifth—each impact blossoms into fiery bursts, the clearing lit in flashing orange and red. Smoke and ash swirl, the canopy above trembling with every detonation.

By the time the last projectile strikes, the forest is ringing with echoes, the air thick with burnt sap.

The monkey staggers, its fur scorched, its crown tilted. Chunks of its body smolder, vines snapping weakly against the dirt.

And then—

It straightens.

Still standing.

Charred. Burned. Bleeding green ichor. But standing. Its eyes burn hotter now, wilder, combat instinct sharpening with every wound.

I feel my bristles rise.

"…Of course it's still up."

Morven exhales through his nose, calm even as smoke and heat swirl around us.

"Such mediocre output," he mutters, almost to himself. "Given the time and mana used."

The monkey roars, unfazed, and charges him anyway—massive strides shaking the ground.

Morven doesn't move aside. He steps into it.

The monster's fist comes down, fast and brutal—
CRACK.

Morven's arm twists mid-swing, flesh hardening and reshaping into a grotesque centipede carapace. The blow lands, splinters fly, and even with the defense, the impact drives him back, his hooved legs gouging deep trenches into the earth as he braces against the force.

He snarls—low, feral—then pivots. His other arm lashes out, cockatrice talons hooking deep into the monkey's side. With a violent twist, he rips, bark-flesh tearing, vines snapping under the sudden wrench.

The beast howls in pain, staggering.

But before it can recover—

Tessa is already there. Fire trailing off her claws, teeth bared in a grin far too wide for the situation. She leaps in behind the opening Morven carved and slams into the wound, claws and fangs sinking deep, igniting the exposed green flesh.

The clearing lights up with another roar—this one pure agony.

The battlefield turns into chaos—Tessa darting in and out with fire on her claws, the monkey swiping with its massive arms, Morven's cockatrice talons cutting deep whenever it leaves an opening. They go back and forth, claw against fist, dodge against strike. Each blow rattles the clearing, trees splintering under stray hits.

The monkey's defense is monstrous. Every time it staggers, it adapts—its movements sharper, its strikes less reckless. Combat instinct, like Morven warned.

I hover above, spines bristling, watching them trade blows. My core hums with energy, my body itching to move.

"Alright," I murmur. "I guess it's time for me to use that."

The glow around me sharpens as I draw in mana, steady and deep. Lunar energy wells up, tracing silver light along my cocoon like cracks in glass.

Lunar Ascension—activate.

The air shifts.

It's like the world exhales and bends toward me. My senses sharpen to a painful clarity—every motion, every breath, every flick of the monkey's tail mapped in perfect detail.

"Let's end this."

---

A while ago, in the Lunerian Checkpoint—

"Alright, this time…" I mutter, focusing every bit of mana into my bristles. "I'll make sure I can cast it. Concentrate. Concen—"

The energy coils, arcs into a shape, almost forming… then boom. It collapses into a sputter of silver sparks, leaving me panting and annoyed.

From behind, Morven's voice cuts in. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I grumble. "Just trying to figure out this big spell from Lunar Ascension. But it keeps collapsing. Every single time."

Morven steps closer, calm as always, his mismatched arms folded. "That's normal. Spells collapse before they form fully when you lack control, when your mana isn't sufficient… or when you don't have the right image."

I glance at him, irritated. "And?"

He tilts his head. "Given your Lunar Ascension draws directly from your lunar reserve, I doubt mana is the problem. That leaves control… or imagination. Or both."

I sink a little, wings drooping. "…Great."

"So what's the solution then?" I ask.

Morven actually pauses, as if weighing whether to bother with me. Then he says, "Chanting."

I blink. "…Chanting? Really?"

"It's primitive. Barbaric," he admits, "but effective. It anchors your will to your voice, gives the image shape. If you practice, gradually, it will stabilize. Until you don't need it anymore."

I stare at him. "You're telling me the key to casting a spell is… talking dramatically?"

He shrugs. "If it works."

I sigh, long and deep. "…Fine. But if I end up sounding like some wannabe cult leader, this is on you."

---

Back in the present

Alright, I'm following your advice, Morven.

I draw in deep, into the silver well of the lunar reserve, the energy rushing through me. My bristles hum, light bleeding from the cracks of my cocoon. The words form in my mind—firm, steady, anchoring the image.

"From the void between phases I call,
from crescent's knife to eclipse's maw."

A sharp spear of silver light coalesces before me, edges keen, gleaming.

"Fall, world, beneath my silver wrath,
fall into shadow where no dawn waits."

The spear hums, and around it, pulsing spheres of light orbit in slow circles—moons in miniature, echoing the phases. Each one throbbed with rhythm, each one a tide of destructive energy.

"The moon remembers—"

I can feel it surge now, the lunar pull digging into my core, unstoppable.

"—all must break."

I thrust my will forward.

"Lunar Apocalypse".

The spear and its orbiting satellites erupt outward in a torrent of annihilating lunar force, tearing through the space between me and the crowned monkey.

As the silver spear of lunar wrath tears forward, Tessa doesn't wait for instructions—she bolts, darting back with a streak of fire still clinging to her fur. Morven steps back too, eyes narrowing, his movements precise as he withdraws from the monkey's immediate range. Both of them know better than to stay close.

The monkey, still roaring with feral defiance, braces itself, pounding its chest—trying to meet the attack head-on.

It doesn't matter.

The spear strikes true.

BOOOOOOM.

The impact blossoms into a massive blue explosion, light bursting outward in a shattering wave. A blue mushroom cloud of shimmering lunar energy surges skyward, its edges glittering like powdered starlight.

The entire clearing trembles under the force. Trees bend and crack, leaves shred into glowing dust, and the air itself hums.

At the center, the monkey's silhouette writhes against the blast—consumed in a storm of silver-blue fire.

I hover above it all, bristles thrumming with raw power.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, NUR?!" Tessa screams, her voice echoing across the blasted clearing.

She's half-crouched, fur puffed out, flames flickering off her claws from sheer reflex, eyes wide as saucers.

I hover above the smoking crater, still glowing faintly, energy buzzing through me like I'm about to come apart. The glittering blue dust drifts around us.

"Uh…" I say, a little sheepishly. "A spell?"

"A spell?!" Tessa shrieks, pointing a paw at the mushroom cloud still shimmering faintly overhead. "That was like—like a nuke! A glowy, sparkly nuke!"

Morven, dusting himself off nearby, just exhales through his nose. "Lunar Apocalypse. Impressive output, though reckless."

"Reckless?!" Tessa barks. "She nearly erased the zone!"

I fidget mid-air, my telekinesis wobbling slightly as the last of the spell's recoil drains out of me. "...Well. At least it worked?"

Tessa growls, still glaring. "Next time warn me before you drop a moon on our heads!"

Morven straightens, brushing bits of glowing dust from his shoulder, his expression unreadable as always.

"Though," he says evenly, "I wouldn't worry about collateral damage so much."

Tessa wheels on him, still bristling. "Excuse me? She just blew up the sky!"

He shakes his head slightly. "No. That was an Original Magic. Its nature is different. It reacts with mana directly—it doesn't tear the world apart the way raw explosions do. Most of what you saw was light, resonance, and the secondary shockwave it generated."

I blink, still hovering unsteadily. "...So I didn't actually vaporize half the forest?"

Morven glances around at the smoking crater, the shredded treeline, the glittering dust falling like snow. Then he looks back at me. "Not… directly."

Tessa gapes. "Not directly?!"

Morven shrugs, deadpan. "The monkey is dead. That was the goal."

I can't help it—I laugh, a little too tired, a little too relieved. "See? Efficient."

Tessa groans into her paws. "I'm surrounded by psychopaths."

Well, one thing's for sure—the monkey is dead now.

The clearing's a mess, the ground still smoking, trees bent and cracked from the shockwave. Glittering dust drifts lazily through the air, like the world's trying to pretend it didn't just almost end.

But aside from the crater and the chaos? Everything else stands. Unscathed.

I hover there, breathing slow, letting the last traces of silver light fade from me.

"Yeah," I murmur. "Messy. But it worked."

End of Chapter 61