In here, pressed down on all sides and blinded in every way, it was impossible to determine the cause. Still, the frog couldn't help but imagine a terrible thing: the knight pummeling the bison's body just outside, trying to get to its quarry one way or the other.

  But this only renewed its determination. There was really no other way out now: either it succeeded, or it would die. And so it would succeed!

  It dug harder than it thought itself capable of, pulling further at a pace that... Strangely, halfway through, there was a termite of all things, digging its way inside in a manner not dissimilar from the frog.

  How had something like this got inside in the first place? It was entirely too weak and, judging by how it was progressing, must have been going at this since basically the very moment the bison had died. It was no true rival.

  The frog still took it and tossed it back out, only sparing a thought to wonder what the creature was trying to accomplish: even had it reached the gem, which wasn’t at all a given with how tough the bison’s flesh was, what would it do? The gem in there felt entirely beyond its capabilities. Even with all this flesh in-between, the frog could feel the strength radiating from it, the quality of its essence. And it was coming closer and closer...

  But the shaking was increasing too, and though it was still doubtful that the knight had found it already, something was definitely happening out there, shoving the frog every which way.

  It couldn't help but imagine horrible things battling outside there, coming to steal its treasure: the knight with its mysterious powers certainly, but also the owl with its screeches, the dark one with its moves... and even the bison itself with its charges, for how little sense that made.

  But in here, under this much stress, there was no need for things to make sense to torment the frog.

  It could only try to convince itself that it was nothing, and that even if it were something, then it would face it. And if it couldn't face it, then that still didn't matter because there was nothing else to do but try, and so try it will until it succeeded! And it would succeed!

  ...

  For all its determination, when its hands closed around something so very disgusting, and so very familiar, the frog still couldn't believe it.

  And it must have stood still for a good while, struggling to process what was right here, in its grasp.

  It was only repetition, so many times doing this throughout long practice, that spurred it on, filaments unraveling from the bison faster than ever before and curling around the gem.

  It had a squishy, yielding texture, but not uniform. It gave a feeling as if it had been made of a firmer substance once, like flesh, which had been pummeled hard enough to tenderize. Only, some areas had it worse. And as the filaments wrapped up, they kept adding even more variation, with spiky and prickly shapes, each different but all in the same bone-like material.

  It was by far the most disgusting gem the frog had ever touched.

  It was marvelous.

  But a sudden stillness broke its reverie very quickly and the frog found itself going still too, eyes roving every which way in anticipation.

  What was this now? Muffled sounds were still coming through.. but there was supposed to be an entire surge out there and a knight on its tail.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Where was all of that? Could the guards' champion possibly have lost its tracks, and moved on? If so, then this was the best time to come out, as soon as the gem was ready.

  ... But what if the thing was just outside, lying in wait, trying to bait the frog? Would it get cut down the moment it peeked out?

  There was no way to know for sure, and the silence was pressing down heavily.

  Waiting felt terrible. And was a losing game besides, whatever option was true. There must be a third option.

  … could it start the transformation in here, maybe?

  No, that was a terrible idea: even if it came out with enough strength to fight the knight - which wasn’t at all guaranteed - the frog would be at its weakest, soon after. It would need time to get used to its new body before it even thought to attempt this fight.

  Worst, unraveling this many filaments felt like it had weakened the flesh around - a process that would only grow worse - as if the bison’s body had lost something critical to its very existence. If the knight was really onto the frog, it might break through before the transformation was over. Better avoid a repeat of the owl incident.

  Despite all these very thought out reasons, as soon as the filaments finished wrapping up, the frog was tempted again.

  Maybe if it transformed right now it wouldn't be in the shape to fight the knight, but it would certainly be better off for escaping... Let alone that the gem would be safe from-

  Something very fast and very sharp burst inside, taking a huge part of the frog's field of vision. And possibly something else more material, given the spike of pain in its hand.

  And when the thing started twisting around, digging more of its flesh out, the frog was quick to realize that that the knight had, in fact, found it; that the decision if transforming right now or not had been taken for it; and that this was the haft of the spike, coming in sideways just in front of its head. Very close to coming through its head.

  The frog's moves and quick reactions had pulled it away before it could even realize something was happening. But had they really made a difference? Or did it survive a beheading just because-

  What was it doing!? This wasn't the time for that!

  It twisted around the spike and wiggled back the same way it had come. The knight hadn't won yet! The spike might have taken off at least a few fingers, but from the wrong hand! The gem was in the other one, and soon all would be healed!

  With a path already dug, getting out was much faster than getting in...

  But what if the knight had found its entry point and was waiting on the other side?

  Well, once again, nothing to do about that more than hope it wasn't, and a quick, anxious peek revealed the knight...

  hadn't found the entrance, after all. But was still right there, struggling to pull the spike free of the bison. Nothing else was around - nothing else alive at least - allowing for a perfect view of the creature.

  The frog hadn’t ever seen it so clearly.

  It felt much bigger up close. The sheer size hadn't struck it much before when compared to the bison - but anything was small compared to that. And now that the former friend was lying dead, the guards' champion felt gigantic. Already the lesser versions were quite bigger than the frog, but this...

  And size was just the beginning: the knight was simply more... guard-ish than any guard, as if it had elevated every quality of theirs to a greater degree.

  Its plates were more bone-like and elaborate. Spiky, with their growths much more pronounced. And they curved inward, so long that they often pierced the body itself in a way that couldn't be pleasant. How could this thing even walk with something like that?

  The one and only time the frog had seen something vaguely like this, the creature - a goat - had been very dead. But the knight didn't seem bothered in the slightest, except for its motions, even jankyer than a normal guard's.

  Not that it mattered at all with the whisper - that this close felt more like a howling - flowing through it with such tremendous power it was a wonder the knight was struggling to pull the spike free.

  No... it wasn't actually struggling at all, was it? It was wiggling the thing around, trying to hit something inside. The frog could almost feel the sharp promise just behind, already imagine that thing piercing its back, cutting its flesh apart...

  With this last, horrendous thought, it climbed out, painfully slowly, as sneaky as it had ever been.

  There were quite a few cracks and caves around. One so tauntingly close that rushing for it was immensely tempting... But the frog knew that if it tried to dive, it would be dead before it touched the ground again.

  There was only one way through.

  As it had done many times before with another impossible foe, it crawled over the ground, trying to fade into it. To move as little as possible, more uninteresting than a random rock.

  Dragging out the ordeal this way was agony. Always with the crushing, unyielding awareness that death was but a small mistake away, just one little movement out of position, at the wrong time.

  When it was almost there, safe inside the ground, the knight finally pulled the spike free, stood back up... and then went still.

  The frog knew its time had come: the thing had realized its quarry wasn't in there anymore. Soon, it would turn, and everything would be over.

  But when the knight did move, it was again to pierce the bison. The frog couldn't believe its sneakiness had held, but wasn't one to waste an advantage. And soon, against all expectations, it was inside the tunnel.

  It went down and forward, in a crazed daze.

  So deeply focused on keeping an ear out for the knight that it didn't process the obstacles that it was surely meeting.

  So deeply focused on keeping an ear out for the knight, that it forgot to suffer for its deadly wounds.

  So deeply focused on keeping an ear out for the knight, that it took a while for it to realize that it was safe, in some undetermined cave a good distance from the castle's hill.

  It was a stunning moment.

  After so much stress, so many times it thought it was dead for sure... It wanted to go check outside, that it had really, truly escaped. But there was no need: it could always feel where the collateral was and at what distance. And it was a good way off.

  The frog had won. Unbelievable.

  But it had done it.

  Now not only its deadly wounds would heal, but it would emerge as something much more than it had ever been. The strength it would obtain…

  and the bison hadn't been just that.

  Strength was almost an after-thought. Well, not really. Not at all, actually, but still...

  In its travels and interactions with others, the frog had realized that it was a step ahead of most creatures. Of almost everything it met, in fact. Even its friends, even the grasshopper… there was something they lacked. It didn’t know what, but that thing was something crucial.

  And the frog wasn't entirely sure that it did have that thing itself, if it was that much different from them.

  But the owl had been. For how much the frog disdained the creature, for all the pain it had inflicted, it had been much further ahead than the frog currently was. Perhaps more than anything else that it could properly feel.

  And, most importantly, the bison had been too.

  Whatever that mysterious, special thing was... this gem and the filaments around it would be the key to obtaining it. Perhaps the frog should ensure that it was really safe, find a more proper place. Most likely, it should go back to the safety of its cave.

  But it had waited so very long for this.

  And it was tired of waiting.

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