Morgana: Everybody Loves Large Chests (Vol.4)

by Iliev, Neven

  “Arms, where’s the prey?” Boxxy asked once it had gotten its bearings.

  “Over there, behind that rubble,” Kora pointed towards the collapsed section of the tunnel.

  Boxxy walked up to the pile of rubble and peered through the small, head-sized opening its familiar had made earlier. It saw the swaying, reddish light of torches and heard distant voices. This place was most definitely home to someone, which meant it was a perfect spot for it to feed on people without attracting too much unwanted attention. The relatively simple plan was the same since it crossed the border.

  Unfortunately, things hadn’t worked out quite as expected. Boxxy’s first order of business upon arriving in Azurvale had been to seek out some unsavory criminal elements in order to unload the Empire-forged arms and armor it had ‘acquired.’ While it had no trouble finding buyers, it did have a disagreement with them concerning the price. The representatives it met with demanded that Boxxy sell them its goods for the nominal price of ‘fuck all,’ which was obviously unacceptable.

  Finding themselves at an impasse, the two parties then engaged in an intense bout of negotiation. When an amicable agreement wasn’t reached, the mimic kindly requested to meet with the employer of these stubborn individuals to work things out like gentlemen. It was a request to which those fellows rejected but ultimately accommodated.

  Long story short, an established crime boss, thirty of his top men and everything of value they owned all disappeared without a trace overnight. Word of this shocking event spread through the city like wildfire. That particular criminal was known to have connections to many influential people and was largely considered untouchable. He was known for bribery, blackmail, taking hostages and all other sorts of other underhanded methods to keep the authorities out of his hair.

  So, it really should have come as no surprise that having his mansion ransacked, smashed up and partially burned down would be big news. The dire state his place of residence had been found in made it abundantly clear that its residents did not meet a pleasant fate, especially since there had been a notable absence of bodies at the scene. It was as if a vengeful tornado of violence and anger had swept through the underground organization, leaving behind nothing more than a collection of splintered wood, shattered stone and bloody smears.

  That was hardly the end of it. The bizarre event repeated itself the very next day as another allegedly criminal organization was dismantled completely, including their illegal slavery racket. Following this was the news that an underground guild of thieves and robbers was wiped out the day after in much the same way. Two underground gambling dens and an illegal drug laboratory followed suit within the week.

  It didn’t take long for the people of Azurvale to conclude that someone was systematically targeting and wiping out these criminal outfits. The rumors spoke of an ominous figure lurking in the shadows, pursuing either their own brand of justice or exacting bloody vengeance on those who had wronged them. It didn’t take long for the people to start referring to this mysterious individual as ‘the Sandman.’

  However, the vigilante in question had no idea as to why they were calling it that. True, Boxxy’s Cadaver Absorption Skill turned dead bodies into black ashes that could be seen as sand-like, but the locals wouldn’t know that. Boxxy planned to stick around Azurvale for quite a while, so it made sure to clean up after itself in order to make it harder for both the authorities and that terrifying Spymaster to track it down. It carried buckets, mops, alchemical solvents, and several jugs of clean water inside its Storage for this express purpose. It could, of course, simply eat the ashes, but it didn’t want to do that unless it really had to. After all, they tasted worse than literal dirt.

  Yet despite its best efforts, the fledgling doppelganger still ended up causing a commotion. It didn’t like this development one bit, as it had intended to prey on targets that society wouldn’t miss. Surely notorious criminals fit that bill, right? However, that was clearly not the case, and now it had a reputation it didn’t want. Rumor that a merciless vigilante was hunting criminal elements was sure to cause said elements to go into hiding, or step up their security, which in turn would make Boxxy’s search for dinner all the more difficult.

  At the very least, the city of Azurvale didn’t seem to have a clue as to the Sandman’s real identity. Reports and hearsay on the topic described it in vague terms like ‘ominous figure’ or ‘crazy bastard,’ hinting that the shapeshifter had not accidentally let a witness get away. That said, it wasn’t liking this attention one bit. Boxxy briefly considered lying low for a while, but the damage was already done. Besides, Xera had pointed out that this Sandman persona might be useful later on, so there was no real reason for the monster to change its hunting habits. Which was why it was currently in an underground tunnel, looking to make lunch out of yet more undesirables.

  It was eager to finish things down there and get back to blending in with the other adventurers, so it momentarily undid its chesty transformation. Once it was back to being the size of a pre-teen, it crawled through the opening in the rubble that Kora had made earlier. It then used the Transfamiliar Spell as quietly as possible to transport the oversized fiend on the other size of the blockage. It could’ve simply widened the hole, but doing so would raise too much noise, not to mention it might collapse the old passage further. Boxxy crawled through the hole a second time and assumed its preferred shape once more.

  Now that both of them were through, they started walking through the abandoned waterways. The stone-brick passage they found themselves in was only about two meters tall, so Kora had to move forward while crouching and keeping her head down, lest her horns scrape against the low ceiling. Her posture was uncomfortable and awkward, but at the very least this part of the tunnel system didn’t have any stagnant water or old moss stinking it up, so there was that.

  The two of them steadily made their way along the straight tunnel, towards the flickering torchlight. They arrived at a small T-shaped junction, with the passage splitting left and right. Boxxy commanded Kora to stay put, activated its Stealth Skill, and peered around the right corner—the one the light was coming from. The passage fed into a large cylindrical chamber that appeared to have people in it. It couldn’t quite see them, but it definitely heard multiple voices.

  The almost-mimic colored its chest-shaped shell a dark gray to match its surroundings and crept steadily forward, making sure to remain on high alert. Once the spider-chest reached the end of the tunnel, it pressed itself against the right side of it and took a good look around. The chamber appeared to be some sort of old cistern or water reservoir, as it was at least thirty meters in diameter and had a height of about seven meters, although any water that was once here had long ago dried up. Several columns of light shone down from round holes in the ceiling—likely old wells that had been sealed up by metal grates. However, the things that provided most of the visibility down here were numerous torches lining the far edge of the room, placed around the stone columns holding up the ceiling.

  In that light stood a group of nine elves. Five of them were huddled around a small bonfire with a metal pot on it, preparing what appeared to be some type of soup. The other three rested on makeshift bedding. The final one was off to the side with his back turned towards the rest and was taking a leak. Judging from their ragged clothing and overall depressing atmosphere, not to mention the torn-up tents that barely provided any shelter, these people seemed to be nothing more than hobos that had taken shelter here. Upon closer inspection, the shapeshifter spotted a frayed rope ladder dangling from one of the well openings overhead, likely their way in and out of the place.

  Boxxy then suddenly had an epiphany. Thinking back on its brief stay in Erosa, the monster realized it had killed a large number of bums, and attracted zero attention. Which meant those people were the ones society wouldn’t miss. The poor, destitute and homeless existed in every major city, and were largely ignored by higher-class citizens, so nobody of importance would care if
they disappeared. If it had just preyed on these guys rather than going after notorious criminals, then that questionable Sandman rumor would never have started in the first place!

  Well, it didn’t really regret doing that. Attacking those criminals provided the monster with a sizable chunk of XP and they were quite delicious in their own right. These bums, on the other hand, were barely even people as their bodies were skinny, disease-ridden sacks of stringy flesh. The most Boxxy could do with their corpses was use them as fodder for its Cadaver Absorption Proficiency, though a success would likely yield very little. Right now, it would probably just devour them. Even if they weren’t particularly tasty or filling, they were still very much edible. Not to mention that they would serve as a good source of proficiency for its newly acquired Demonic Insight Skill.

  Boxxy went out of the tunnel it was hiding in and stealthily climbed the walls. It then crawled along the ceiling, making sure to stick behind the supporting pillars whenever possible so as to hide its body from view. Once it got close enough, it started chanting the Spell it got at Level 1 of Demonic Insight. Being under the effects of Stealth allowed the monster’s Arcane Assassin Perk to kick in. It muffled the sound of its voice, allowing it to cast the Spell in total silence, albeit at an increased MP cost.

  The monster finished invoking its Spell a few seconds later with a silent utterance of ‘Implosion!’

  *PAKINNN*

  There was a flash of blinding green light accompanied by a high-pitched wail that sent all nine of the homeless elves into a panic. The inexplicable phenomenon had occurred directly over their little bonfire, so those sitting around it were losing their shit at a rapid pace. They managed to calm themselves down for a moment when they realized they weren’t actually injured, but that relief disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived.

  “Waaaakwakawaka!”

  “Kuweekakaka!”

  “Arrrkaaakaraaaa!”

  A large number of high-pitched, squawking voices filled the chamber, as the elves found themselves surrounded by nearly thirty squirrel-sized monsters. The tiny creatures resembled miniature satyr due to their humanoid upper halves and furry, goat-like lower bodies. Their bodies and their fur came in all manner of colors, although most of them were either a dull yellow, or a dark red. Their pointy horns, long noses and ears, and thin, rodent-like tails poking out of their backsides gave them a strangely comical appearance.

  They were imps, the demonic equivalent of rats. These otherworldly vermin barely had any self-awareness or strength of their own, which made them wildly unpredictable. They cackled and pranced about randomly, as the elves were too shocked by this sudden turn of events to even scream. For the briefest moment, it seemed like these strange creatures would just go away as long as they stood perfectly still. But that wouldn’t last.

  All it took was for one of the elves to inhale a bit too sharply, and every last one of those tiny demons flew into a frenzy. Some of them started clawing and biting at the unfortunate bums, while others bombarded them with tiny bursts of flame. However, almost all of their ‘attacks’ did practically zero damage. Their tiny hands and short teeth could barely even draw blood, while the puny magical power behind their fiery projectiles would at most singe the filthy rags these homeless elves draped themselves in. Their assault was painful and annoying, but by no means lethal.

  It didn’t take long for the bums to fight back by kicking them around, stomping them underfoot or smashing them with whatever cookery, wooden canes, or loose bricks were at hand. They had no idea what was going on, but they weren’t about to just roll over and die. Not that there was any chance of that happening, though. Imps were so pathetically weak, that they probably wouldn’t even beat a nine-year-old unless six or seven of them ganged up on the child. So, this situation where thirty of them challenged nine fully-grown adults was a foregone conclusion.

  However, Boxxy wasn’t done quite yet.

  *PAKINNN*

  Another loud bang and blinding flash flooded the room as the shapeshifter used the misleadingly named Implosion Spell yet again. Another swarm of the demonic vermin popped out from the rift that momentarily opened to the Beyond, bringing the total number of imps up to about fifty. The new arrivals happily joined the fray as the homeless elves kept trying to fight them off.

  *PAKINNN*

  Yet another gaggle of imps appeared from nowhere, but they still wouldn’t be enough to actually defeat the elves. Not that their summoner really cared about who won this scrap. Boxxy’s goal was to train its Demonic Insight Skill, so having those people struggle against the effects of its Implosion Spell was exactly what it wanted. The aforementioned Skill’s Proficiency would steadily go up just so long as the imps it summoned had someone or something to play with. It would keep using the Spell as many times as its MP would allow, which wasn’t a lot considering it consumed 10% of its maximum MP, even without it having to pay an extra 25% of that in order to cast it silently.

  This oddity struck the monster as strange at first. Typically speaking, Spells appeared to have a fixed cost and would increase in power with the related Mastery Skill, the INT Attribute and any magical amplification gained from items. However, these demonic Spells worked by their own rules, and did not seem to actually have a related Mastery Skill. In fact, they weren’t even recognized as an official school of magic like Ruin or Domination seeing as the monster’s Spell List had categorized them as ‘Other.’

  *PAKINNN*

  But the shapeshifter had quickly realized that this was simply how Beyond-related magic worked. Looking at the Summon Familiar Skill or the Offering rituals, it was obvious that the strength of the magical effect was directly proportional to the amount of mana used to invoke it. In the case of the former, a higher amount of spent MP would result in a stronger familiar. For the latter, it wouldn’t affect the power that the summoned Overlord could exhibit, but supplying the demonic big-shot with more mana would allow them to maintain their physical form for longer. As for the Implosion Spell, it would increase the number of imps called forth from the Beyond at a rate of eight to twelve imps for every 100 MP spent.

  *PAKINNN*

  However, unlike the ritual or the Skill, Boxxy could repeat this Spell as many times as it wanted, which was precisely what it did. It was actually starting to enjoy watching the spontaneous hobo-imp war. The noise even attracted several homeless people from neighboring tunnels to act as reinforcements. There was just so much going on that it was impossible to keep track of everything and made for a surprisingly entertaining show. In fact, the number of imps grew so much that the idiotic creatures started fighting one another because the crowd around the elves was too dense.

  As for those unfortunate bums, it appeared they were already at their limits. Their bodies were covered in scratches, bite marks and burns, their feeble stamina was quickly running out and their faces were gripped by despair. Even if the opposing side’s ‘soldiers’ were pitifully weak by comparison, the elves had no chance of winning against what appeared to be a never-ending stream of enemies. Something that Boxxy had every intention to prove.

  *PAKINNN*

  [Chaotic energies swirl around you.]

  [You will be teleported in a random direction within the next 5 seconds.]

  However, it would seem that the Chaotic Disposition Skill was about to interfere. Boxxy didn’t even have time to react as its chesty body suddenly vanished with a flash of blue light and reappeared some fifteen meters from its original location with another flash. The monster had relocated to a spot in the middle of the chamber directly above the cacophony of bum-on-imp combat. Having nothing to grab on to, it fell right in the middle of the melee with a loud thud, crushing a few of the imps underchest. The paupers naturally did not fail to notice the spider-legged box that appeared out of thin air, nor were the imps completely impartial to this newcomer.

  The monster calmly picked itself up off the ground and sighed internally. It had gotten perhaps a bit carried away, as it su
ddenly remembered it had places to be and things to do. Deciding not to waste any more time, it sprouted four long whip-like tentacles covered in tiny blades. It then spun around in place like a horrific weed whacker, severing the lives of demons and elves alike while bathing the chamber in their blood. It waited for half a minute for the demonic corpses and their bodily fluids to disappear into thin air before it quickly chowed down on the mutilated homeless.

  Once it was done, it sent a telepathic communication to Xera.

  “Snack, I’m done here. How are things on your end?”

  “All good, Master. I think your, uh, ‘colleagues’ are starting to notice your absence, though.”

  “Okay, then prepare for another transfer.”

  “Understood, just let me find a good spot that’s hidden from view.”

  “Arms, the chamber is clear, come here and resume the search with Snack once she returns.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Boxxy let out another sigh. It really wanted to stay in its chesty form a while longer, but it wasn’t something it could afford to do just yet. It had recently obtained a new Job, and it wanted to avoid learning things the hard way like it did with its Warlock Job. Thankfully, most of the adventurer guilds in this city provided excellent training courses for aspiring adventurers, so at least it wouldn’t have to look for a teacher. It didn’t have much trouble blending in either, although it struggled to contain its appetite around the other students.

  Especially around that one positively delicious-looking apprentice in Faehorn’s class.

  Part Three

  “Man, I am beat!” Keira complained, sweat running down her face.

  “Are you alright, Red?”

  The female elf next to her asked more out of courtesy than concern. She was a young woman around Keira’s age, her leaf-green hair tied in a practical ponytail. She wore a set of chainmail equipment identical to the beastkin’s, which was standard-issue gear among Ranger trainees of the Hidden Arrow guild.