by Neven Iliev
“Oh, I see. So, a chimera might be something like this?”
Boxxy shifted its humanoid form into a ghastly creature with four spider-like limbs for arms, a quartet of giant crustacean claws for hands, a horse’s head with curved ram horns, a thick, scaly tail, and goblin legs for nipples. Short brown fur covered everything else.
“Okay. I was… not mentally prepared for that,” Fizzy mumbled.
“I don’t think any of us were,” Valeria echoed the sentiment.
The two demons nodded in agreement. The thing really couldn’t be called anything other than horrific. And this was coming from a bunch of monsters, so regular people would probably end up involuntarily evacuating their bowels if they were ever to lay eyes on it. In fact, Fizzy was silently thanking her new god that she no longer possessed such functions, else she might have seriously put that claim to the test.
At the very least, it seemed that she had her weird stripping habit under control. After all, Boxxy could see through both her plain clothes and sturdy steel hide. Her subconscious must have realised that removing her clothing was pretty pointless, given the circumstances. In fact, just knowing that she was within its passive perception range was enough to satisfy her borderline-exhibitionistic tendencies. She even had the strangest feeling that she could tell when the Mimic was focusing its attention on her.
That sensation wasn’t just her imagination. The miniscule waves of mana that Boxxy subconsciously used to keep track of its surroundings caused a very slight interference with the magic permeating the steel golem’s body. Her nucleus picked up the currents, relaying them to her conscious mind as the strangely-empowering feeling of being ‘watched,’ driving her to stick as close to Boxxy as she could. In fact, she’d started to feel irritable and tense whenever she was apart from the Mimic for too long, as though she were already addicted to its permeating gaze.
Fizzy was wondering whether this was a good or bad thing when another, much more pressing concern came to mind.
“Hey, Boxxy,” she spoke up. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ribbit?”
“Uh…”
Realizing that a horned horse head was less than ideal for communication, the Mimic undid its bizarre transformation and reverted back to a simple chest with Xera’s face on the front. It would revisit this chimera concept later. The idea definitely had potential, though it wasn’t sure whether it would be able to gain much Proficiency from it. The amalgamation of copied body parts wasn’t something that could be considered an ‘original work,’ for lack of a better term.
“What is it, Fizzy?”
“You won’t have a mimic’s body after you Rank Up, right?”
“Probably not.”
“Will you still be able to see things the same way you do now?”
She was wondering whether the monster’s magical perception ability would disappear, though it was mostly a selfish concern. She was worried that her perfectly-put-together body wouldn’t get the appreciation and attention that it deserved if the Mimic could no longer perceive it with the same invasive level of detail.
“… I don’t know,” the creature answered after a brief pause. “Maybe.”
Boxxy was gripped by a foreboding, almost melancholic feeling.
Its species would change with the Rank Up.
While it had known full well that that would happen, this time it wouldn’t turn into a better version of what it already was, but a completely different type of monster. It had been aware of this, yet it hadn’t truly considered the implications until Fizzy had brought it up.
What the former gnome had experienced hadn’t been too dissimilar to a Rank Up, after all. As a result, she had undergone a series of radical changes, both mentally and physically. In fact, she was still adapting to her new self. And while there were many things that she had gained from the change, there had been just as many she’d lost.
Her newfound numbness to pain came at the cost of her sense of touch, smell and taste, and while she no longer required food or water, she had lost the ability to ingest healing potions. She had gained a deeper understanding of metal through her Metallopathy Skill, but at the cost of her flexibility and dexterity. True, she’d regained those thanks to the Advanced Joints Skill, but she’d had to give up the chance at a different Skill in order to do so.
Looking at Fizzy’s rather unique case was causing Boxxy to have second thoughts about its impending Rank Up. Losing its magical perception ability would be a huge setback. It could not be understated how invaluable something like that was to a creature that primarily fought at close range, to say nothing of how convenient it was for practising its Artificer Job.
And yet, while those were all valid, practical concerns, the Mimic was equally concerned that it might be forced to give up its chesty disposition. Unlike a certain abused gnome, it didn’t feel comfortable letting go of its current form. It had overcome numerous near-death situations and agonising experiences in order to develop a sense of self and establish its individual identity. It loathed the idea of having to abandon either of those things.
“But you’ll still be a shapeshifter-type, right?”
Fizzy continued her line of questioning, completely oblivious to the Mimic’s inner turmoil. The distraction was hardly a bad thing, though, as it helped Boxxy to realise that it still had no idea what Rank Up options would be available, nor what effects they might have. It therefore decided that worrying before it had all the details would be a waste of effort. It certainly wasn’t going to put off a potentially life-changing decision just because it was afraid of the unknown.
Besides, the lump of metal was right. It wasn’t as though a mimic could suddenly become a harpy or a goblin, after all. No matter what, it should at least still be a shapeshifter of some kind. Just like Fizzy would undoubtedly still be a golem and Valeria would remain undead regardless of how many Rank Ups they experienced. The Paladin’s drastic transition from gnome to golem had been caused by a curse rather than the standard Rank Up process, so it couldn’t even be called an exception. It was an entirely different situation.
“Most probably,” Boxxy answered, after it had collected its thoughts.
“So then, can’t you just grow back the thing that gives you that magnificent sight?”
“What?”
“I mean, did you have any eyes when you were born?”
“No.”
“But you can make them with shapeshifting.”
“Yes.”
“So, it should be possible for you to recreate the ‘eye’ that lets you see all around you after you Rank Up, right? I mean, just in case you no longer have it.”
“… But I don’t know how to do that.”
“That’s why I’m suggesting you start practising now, while you still have the chance!”
“Oh, I see! That is a very tasty idea!”
“Hehehehe!” Fizzy giggled delightedly at the praise.
“Ack!” Valeria gasped. “When did the short one become a love rival?!”
The Paladin splendidly ignored the worthless whore of a wraith and continued to bask in the glow of the Mimic’s approval. It was one of the few genuine compliments Boxxy had ever given her, so she wasn’t going to allow such a ridiculous insinuation to ruin it. She most definitely did not ‘love’ the mass-murdering, man-eating monster. How did that even make sense? What she felt was respect for her superior and caretaker. Boxxy was Fizzy’s mentor as a monster, so its words would naturally carry extra weight. It was simply a matter of course that she would get excited whenever those words were even the tiniest bit flattering or affirmative.
… Yes, that must have been what the feeling was.
“Okay, I’ll give it a try right away.”
Boxxy had decided to make Fizzy’s suggestion top priority. It had a feeling that what it was about to attempt wouldn’t be easy, meaning that it would probably lead to a sizable increase in its Shapeshift proficiency. Assuming that it was able to succeed, of course, but first things firs
t. It focused its gaze inwards, bringing its attention to the very core of its magical perception.
Mimics sensed their surroundings with an organ which scholars had named the Mana Locator Gland, or MLG for short. While surprisingly common amongst monsters, the curious thing about it was how wildly it varied between different species. Janther whiskers, griffin beaks, treant roots and dragon horns were all examples of this gland. They were all sensitive to changes in the ambient mana, but each worked in different ways. A janther’s whiskers, for example, could detect whether a Spell was being cast with them as the target and discern when illusions, invisibility and other magical trickery was afoot. A treant’s roots worked in much the same way, except that they sensed magic through vibrations in the soil, making them useless against flying threats.
However, none of the creatures’ sensory organs could compare to those of a naturally sightless monster, like a mimic, slime or primordial elemental. Those species typically had no other senses with which to navigate their surroundings, so it was only natural that their Mana Locator Glands would be far more advanced. And while, say, a dragon’s horn provided enough information to be called a second sight, it could only encompass a conical shape expanding backwards from its head. It allowed the mighty wyrms to protect their blind spots and verify their body’s condition without having to turn their long necks, yet certain Spells and materials were simply outside the scope of the horn’s detection.
In short, it could be said that Boxxy’s 360-degree all-scope MLG had top-of-the-line performance. Though it couldn’t cover huge distances, the sheer volume and accuracy of the sensory data it was able to pick up was second only to that of beholder demons. But no matter how excellent it was, it could not observe itself. Like an eye trying to look inwards or a nose trying to pick out its own scent, it was simply impossible for the Mimic to examine its own MLG. Although Boxxy knew where it was located, it had no idea what it even looked like, much less how it was put together.
But it refused to give up so easily. If it could make an organic wheel, then it could figure out how to observe the source of its magical perception by employing that very same sense. The obvious solution would be to find another mimic to use as an example, but would theirs even be the same? Boxxy was a Greater Mimic, so it was highly possible that a lesser variant of the species would have an inferior MLG. It was a moot point anyways, as Boxxy didn’t have the slightest clue where it could find others of its kin.
This was frustrating. If only it had a second gland somewhere, then it would already be-
Boxxy was struck by a flash of inspiration. It had gotten an idea that just might work. It went completely silent as it began to consider how to go about accomplishing its idea. A plan was slowly coming together. A dangerous, extreme, unquestionably painful plan, but a necessary one if Boxxy didn’t want to lose one of its most valuable assets when it Ranked Up.
It would be difficult, but the Mimic was certain that it could make it happen. This was far from the first time that it had researched its own body, after all. It just needed to put all of its limited knowledge to good use and it was bound to accomplish something. Even failure could be a useful learning experience. Like the first time that it had tried to grow a set of wheels, only to have them violently snap off. Or when it had nearly killed itself overloading its sensory capacity with a multitude of eyes. Then there had been the time it had fallen fifty metres off a cliff while it was learning to fly…
On second thought, perhaps, just this once, some moderation was in order.
Part Four
The Mimic opened its maw and extended two tongue-tentacles, each gripping one of its favourite mithril daggers. The blades flashed ominously as it thrust them unhesitatingly into the right side of its rectangular body, carving deeply into its own flesh. It stifled a pained hiss as viscous yellow blood splattered the ground. The Mend Flesh Skill kicked in immediately and began healing the wound with the daggers still inside. The pain was even more intense as its body tried and failed to close the wound around the metal blades.
The sudden, inexplicable violence sent its minions into a panic. From their perspective, the Mimic had been sitting calmly ever since it had said that it would give Fizzy’s idea a try about five minutes ago. They had assumed that it was simply busy doing its shapeshifting thing on the inside, so Boxxy suddenly stabbing itself had caught them all by surprise. Fizzy and Xera seemed most concerned, begging the wounded creature to tell them what was going on as they approached it cautiously.
“Be quiet and don’t touch me!” Boxxy howled, silencing all of their voices. “I’m working here!”
Once it had recovered about half of its lost HP, it disabled the Mend Flesh Skill, steeled its nerve and ripped its side open even more deeply. It turned Mend Flesh back on for only a second or two before gouging into its flesh for the third time, the others able to do nothing but watch in a mixture of shock and horror. The only one who wasn’t worried was Kora, who instead found herself impressed by her boss’s lack of mercy, even towards itself.
The fiend was no stranger to pain, after all. It wasn’t that she couldn’t feel it, but that she had simply grown accustomed to it. She’d be a failure as a fiend if she was afraid of something so mundane as being hurt. Not even losing a limb or being cut in half could stop her from trying to smash her target to bits. Even if she were reduced to nothing but a head, she’d still try to bite off her enemy’s ankles and rip out their throat. Seeing her own master fearlessly endure the pain of slicing out its own insides only increased her respect for it.
In Kora’s honest opinion, the wooden box was quite ballsy for a mortal, especially considering that it didn’t technically have those body parts to begin.
“So this is how it managed to escape those restraints…”
As for Fizzy, she was only just now realising how the Mimic had broken loose from the magic-sealing bindings that had been literally bolted into its flesh. She’d wondered about it more often than she cared to admit, but until now she’d never even considered that it could have actually gouged them out itself. The Paladin had to admit that, had she been in its place, she could never have been brave enough to do such a thing. And now, while she could no longer feel pain, the mere thought of besmirching her flawlessly perfect body felt like sacrilege.
She looked down at her shining steel hands and gripped her fists, silently chastising herself for still being so naive. If Boxxy wasn’t beyond mangling its own body in order to survive, then she would need to find the courage to do so as well, should it ever become necessary for either of their survival.
It was the bare minimum level of conviction that she would need if she truly wanted to stand by its side rather than grovel in its shadow.
“Ah, Master…” Xera whispered. “Why must you do this to yourself when I’m right here…”
The succubus had somehow been able to grasp what her master was trying to do, and she desperately wanted to help, to offer herself up in order to be of use to her beloved. Her past self would probably have mocked her mercilessly for wanting to support a heartless, unfeeling monster, especially one that could never hope to reciprocate her affection. Indeed, some of her best work had involved manipulating men into destroying themselves for her sake, even though they had nothing to gain from it. The Xera of the past had been a devious woman, seeking only pleasure and entertainment at the expense of others.
And while that part of her hadn’t exactly changed, she wished, for various reasons, that she could be the one her master was carving into right now.
Valeria watched in total silence, trying to process the ghastly sight. She’d been on good terms with the Mimic for only a few days, and thus hadn’t really had the chance to get a firm grasp on its personality. If anything, the creature’s intentions only proved more and more undecipherable with each passing day. The only thing that she could say for certain was that it was the best lay she’d ever had – which was really all she needed to know at the moment. She was sure that the tw
o of them would be getting much better acquainted in the very near future.
“Nasty, come here!”
Something that might just wind up happening sooner rather than later.
“Of course, darling!” the lich cooed as she floated up to the Mimic. “What can your future bride do for you? Or… to you?”
Boxxy had stopped its self-mutilation once the huge, bleeding gash was roughly twenty centimetres deep and six centimetres wide. It had splendidly carved a hole into its flesh, using Mend Flesh to ensure that its HP didn’t suffer too much while also preventing the incision from closing up completely by continuing to pry it open with its daggers. And yet this was only the first part of Boxxy’s impromptu self-surgery.
“Frostbolt the wound!” it ordered.
“Wha?! Th-that’s not what I-”
“Now!”
Why on earth was the woman stalling?! Just because Boxxy was in no danger of dying didn’t mean that its little stunt wasn’t utterly agonising!
“F-Frostbolt!” chanted the flabbergasted Valeria.
Her bright blue projectile flew at the wound, freezing the Mimic’s insides in an instant. It felt a momentary sense of disorientation as its typically-always-on magical perception was disabled for the second time in its life. The daggers moved once more as Boxxy broke something off from its interior, then carefully coiled a free tentacle around the frozen, apple-sized MLG, dragging it into the open. It reactivated its Mend Flesh Skill and waited patiently for the massive, self-inflicted wound to heal. A brand new, fully functioning MLG grew where the old one had been a few seconds later as though it had never been gone to begin with.
That was the solution that Boxxy had come up with. Cutting away the organ in question and relying on Mend Flesh to grow a new one would allow it to, essentially, have two of them. There were some parts of the Mimic’s body that it was simply unable to shapeshift, and the area around the gland was unfortunately one of them. Otherwise it could just have willed it outside of its shell or grown an eye inside its body to observe it.
