by Iliev, Neven
Xera was just desperate enough to try that ludicrous idea, because it was the only one she had. The last thing she wanted was to let down her beloved master. It was hardly the first time she’d messed up, and Boxxy had gotten angry with her many times in the past. Things had always more or less worked out for her, but this? This would probably be the first time her Master would be disappointed in her, and that thought was… difficult to stomach. If asked to put that strange feeling into words, the succubus would probably reply that it was ‘not tasty.’
The succubus passed out moments later. Well, as close to ‘passing out’ as she could get considering her high MNT Attribute. She still clung to consciousness and perceiving the burning inferno around her, her body no longer listening to her. Even if her flesh was born of magic, she still needed to breathe just like any other living being, and the thick and heavy smoke in the air made that quite difficult to do. She collapsed while choking on the byproducts of her own magic, a faint smile on her lips. Even under these circumstances, the relentlessly rotten part of her looked forward to the sweet agony of her skin being consumed by the flames.
Just then, she heard a noise. A thunderous, roaring sound coming from the smoke-obscured air above her came down on her at a frightening speed. It was so loud that it effortlessly drowned out the crackling of the flames. The succubus couldn’t even guess as to what could be making it. That mystery didn’t last long, as a literal waterfall came crashing down on her. The sudden deluge of foamy water completely and entirely quenched the flames, putting them out in an instant. It swept away the Molten Guardian that was still trying to follow its impossible orders, extinguishing it like a match in a typhoon.
The barely-conscious succubus was flabbergasted. Well, the good news was that the tree her Master wanted to use wouldn’t burn down from her ineptitude, plus she was no longer choking. The bad news was that she was now drowning instead. Her limp body was tossed back and forth as the turbulent current settled itself. She no longer knew which way was up or down, nor did she have a method of finding out. And yet, despite taking in so much water, her body outright refused to die.
[You are suffocating. HP -364.]
[You have bathed in the Waters of Life. HP +500.]
[You are suffocating. HP -364.]
[You have bathed in the Waters of Life. HP +500.]
[You are suffocating. HP -364.]
[You have bathed in the Waters of Life. HP +500]
It would appear this strange liquid was also magical in nature. It had restorative properties on par with high-grade healing potions, but none of the toxicity that led to potion sickness. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to Xera. She wasn’t all that familiar with the condition in question, but she didn’t experience any weird side effects. The only odd thing she registered after spending three or four minutes drowning in the green-tinted liquid was a peculiar sense of familiarity, as if she’d done this many times before. She didn’t get to explore that feeling before the stuff started draining away as suddenly as it had appeared.
“Koff koff! Hack! Koff!”
With the water levels receding, the succubus found herself sputtering up water while crawling on all fours atop a small outcropping of timber. She looked around her to find that, much to her surprise, the wooden insides of the tree were not charred or burned in the slightest. In fact, the wood actually seemed to be healthier than ever as the jagged, bug-eaten surface was covered in healthy, strong bark with white and yellow flowers growing from it. The mysterious flood of these so-called Waters of Life not only quenched the fire, but completely healed and reinvigorated the tree.
“Good ‘morrow unto you, madam.”
An eloquent voice coming from above reached Xera’s ears. The succubus dumbly looked upwards to see a green-skinned woman with long, flowing vines for hair poking halfway out of the rejuvenated wooden ground directly in front of her. Her ears were pointed like an elf’s and she had a pair of antler-like growths jutting out of the top of her head. Her breasts were even more bountiful than Xera’s, although they were wrapped in leaves and vines that kept her somewhat decent. Her beautiful face bore a green-lipped smile that exuded a sense of class and dignity.
“What?” the succubus responded, struck dumb by the unfamiliar creature’s appearance.
“Grant thee mercy for chasing those insects hence.”
“… What?!”
She also had difficulty understanding that odd way of speaking.
“I owe thee one.”
The plant-woman seemed to grasp her confusion and clarified herself with a small bow before disappearing into the bark. She sank into it as if it were the surface of a pond, complete with tiny ripples that expanded outwards from her. Though Xera was not going to complain that her potentially catastrophic fire had been put out, it would appear she would still have to deliver some bad news to Boxxy.
Namely that this tree already had a resident.
Part Six
The twelve giant trees of Azurvale were a species of magical plant known as hylt, said to have been planted by the Goddess Nyrie herself. This was not actually the case, as they had been on this world since long before the deity in question came into existence—a living testament to nature’s perseverance and endurance. So while the tree-hugging Goddess did not create them, she most certainly blessed them. The combination of her divine power and this sparse forest’s ancient, venerable magic caused a truly unprecedented reaction.
A new type of existence had been born within each and every one of those colossal trees. The Goddess’s blessing had drawn out and given form to their primordial will, while the hylt’s unique nature had bestowed it with life and meaning. It was thus that the beings known as dryads came to be. Although very little was known about them, they were largely believed to be spirits charged with the never-ending duty of protecting and nourishing the tree they had been born from.
Truthfully, it was folly to think of a dryad and her hylt as separate entities. They were two parts of the same whole, and one could not survive without the other. The sacrilegious act chopping or burning down a hylt tree would cause the death of the dryad, while separating the tree’s spirit from its home by force would cause both of them to gradually wither and die. This was one of the many reasons why these plant-like women very rarely showed themselves to outsiders.
Because of that their existence was considered nothing more than myth and legend by the very elves that lived atop their branches and around their roots. There were, of course, select individuals that these reclusive beings showed themselves to, but they would need to have performed a considerable service to the tree for that to happen.
This was probably why one of them presented herself to the strange winged woman that had helped rid her of that persistent termite problem. Although she was starting to regret that decision.
“Come on out!”
A loud shout echoed within the former termites’ nest. Its source was a bizarre creature unlike anything else the dryad had seen before. Granted, she hadn’t seen much since her kind typically remained blissfully unaware of the world at large, but she was still able to classify that thing as clearly abnormal.
“I said get out here! I have to talk with you!”
It wasn’t because the magic user from earlier disappeared in a puff a smoke and was replaced by this thing. Teleportation magic was something the elves used quite a bit, so she already knew of its existence. It also wasn’t because of this creature’s strange appearance of a wooden treasure chest walking on eight spider-like legs. Even if she was somewhat ignorant, the dryad still knew about mimics and what they were capable of. In fact, one could say that mimics were her offspring, given that it was her timber that the first of them had been born from, even if it had been a mortal elf who gave them life.
What the dryad took issue with was the fact that this creature mimicked the appearance of a mimic, despite not being one itself. She had clearly seen its original humanoid form following its appearance, so she was co
mpletely baffled as to why it would take on such an odd shape. If it was just a simple box with legs, then she might humor it with an appearance. If it was a mindless beast, then she wouldn’t particularly mind playing with it for a while, maybe even taking it in as a pet. It wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like that, but that thought was far from her mind right now.
“I know you’re around here!”
Whatever this thing was, it was clearly intelligent. Beings that showed intent in their actions were inherently suspicious, as they almost always had ulterior motives. This was why even if she were to show herself to mortals, she did so very briefly. The ones who had seen her were usually awestruck. They considered themselves lucky and moved on with their lives. The event had inspired many of them to continue protecting her beloved tree or spreading her precious seeds. The rest of them—the individuals that stuck around and wanted to ‘talk’ with her—always had selfish goals, and this one was no different.
“If you don’t show yourself, then I will assume you have no problem with me living here!”
Wait, what? It wanted to live here? Inside of her?! Was this thing nuts?
“Okay! Since you have no complaints, then I will just do as I please!”
She had plenty of complaints, actually. Branches and roots were one thing, but dryads absolutely despised having other creatures inside themselves. After all, what living being would willingly welcome parasites? On the other hand, a single monster like this was nothing compared to the thousands of termites that were here beforehand, so she could probably put up with it. Besides, she doubted this thing was actually serious. It would probably get bored and leave soon enough anyway.
That’s when it opened a swirling black portal, and a clear crystal ball that was fifty centimeters in diameter fell out. The dryad had no idea what it was, but she had a bad feeling about it. One that was proven to be justified when it started sucking up all of the mana in the air like some sort of sponge. She needed that mana! Especially since she just spent so much energy to douse that fire and heal her burns.
Realizing that continuing to ignore this creature was probably a bad idea, the dryad decided she would need to make an appearance.
Boxxy had just taken the dormant dungeon core out of its Storage and was looking for a good place to serve as the dungeon’s heart when the wooden outcropping it was standing on started rippling like a puddle in the wind. A green, plant-like woman rose out of it as if something was pushing her out from beneath the surface. Her skin glowed with an eerie green light, chasing away much of the surrounding darkness. Her proportions were outrageously voluptuous and her figure could easily rival that of a succubus. She was mostly naked, except for a series of leaves that covered the underside of her breasts as well as her pelvic area. This was obviously the ‘resident’ that Snack mentioned earlier, and her emerald eyes showed that she was clearly not amused.
“Alright, let us speak,” she said in a deep, mature voice while crossing her arms under her outrageous cleavage. “What manner of business would thou hath with one such as I?”
“You talk funny,” Boxxy noted.
“Thy speech is the comical one from mine perspective,” she retorted.
“I see…”
“I pray thee, put away thy profane object so that we may converse.”
She pointed at the dungeon core that was already gathering up the ambient mana. It was something it started doing all on its own in order to test the environment and determine whether it would be suitable for establishing a dungeon. The mana density in this area wasn’t quite as high as the core’s former home, but it seems to have determined that it would be sufficient. It was obvious that the shapeshifter’s intention to claim this cavern as its dungeon lair would have to wait, so it obediently put it back inside its Storage.
“Very good,” commented the green woman. “Now then, what doth thou need of me?”
“I want to live here,” repeated Boxxy.
“… Truly?”
“Truly.”
“Why?”
“It’s convenient.”
“How so?”
“It’s safe, hidden and is right in the middle of the city. I can hide my shiny things here while I’m out getting more shiny things, and I can work on my Jobs and Skills in peace.”
“What doth thou mean by shiny things?”
Boxxy momentarily opened its Storage and took out several gold coins, then presented them to the dryad, using its tongue-tentacle in lieu of a hand.
“Ah. ‘Tis gold?”
“Not just gold,” the ex-mimic insisted.
It then took out several other things from its collection. It showed off some sparkling gemstones, a few glowing rocks, several pieces of gilded silverware, a small silver statue of a knight and even its prized mithril daggers. The plant lady seemed thoroughly unimpressed. She briefly raised an eyebrow when Boxxy took out a jar of Shiny Juice, formally known as Honeydew, but didn’t seem to care enough to comment about it.
“So thou shall not attempt to consume mine bark and branches?”
“No. Wood isn’t very tasty. Fruits are okay, though.”
“Then tell me, creature-”
“Boxxy.”
“Pardon?”
“My name. It’s Boxxy. Boxxy T. Morningwood.”
“Oh? Thou hast a splendid name,” she said with a hint of admiration.
“Thanks, I think so too,” the shapeshifter responded casually.
“Mine is Ambrosia, the dryad of this tree. ‘Tis a pleasure to make thy acquaintance.”
“Likewise.”
The green woman seemed to relax a bit now that the formal introductions were out of the way. She behaved strangely like a person, even though she should technically be a monster, which meant that Boxxy’s recently acquired social skills were being put to surprisingly good use.
“So Boxxy, what be thy relation to the… chill-challenged woman that cleansed mine insides from those hateful vermin?”
“That’s Snack, one of my minions. Ah, she went overboard with the fire, so sorry about that.”
It wasn’t a sincere apology of course, more of a formality.
“‘Tis of no consequence, young one. Extreme measures were necessary to purge that infestation. It would have surely devoured mine whole being if left unattended. Therefore, I owe thee and thy servant mine thanks.”
“Then I will gladly accept them. But how come you couldn’t chase them out on your own? You should be able to do at least that much, right?”
The dryad’s stoic expression gradually became one of sadness and shame.
“I am no longer able to defend myself from those creatures. I hath tried poisoning them, flooding them out and trapping them in brambles. It worked the first few times, but those tenacious heathens always overcame mine attempts and returned stronger and more numerous. The power of fire remains their constant weakness, but I find myself unable to conjure flames by my own power. Eventually I ran out of ways to fend them off, and found myself at their mercy.”
“Such is the natural order of things,” Boxxy said sagely.
“‘Tis so.”
Those who did not adapt were devoured. It was the cruel truth of nature, something both parties understood firsthand.
“What about those Waters of Life you used earlier?”
“Ah. That substance is a mixture of the dew gathered from mine leaves and the sap from mine body.”
“Don’t suppose you can let me have some?”
“‘Tis a simple matter, but would be of little use to thee as medicine,” she cautioned. “Thou art not the first to express interest in it mine fluids, but one must fully submerge themselves in the Waters of Life in order to be healed. Simply drinking some will not accomplish much more than to satiate one’s thirst, and its properties shalt dissipate rapidly once removed from mine interior.”
Boxxy had expected this response. Of course a literal waterfall of high-grade, toxicity-free healing potion would be too go
od to be true. Not to mention that it did already sample some of the stuff from the puddles that were strewn around the place. Although it was tasty, it showed absolutely no magical effects, just as she claimed. Since it was highly unlikely that it would be able to take a bath in the middle of a fight, this substance’s practical usefulness was rapidly approaching zero. There ought to be some way to use this for profit, but such thoughts would have to wait until later.
It still wanted to establish a dungeon within this tree, and judging from the way this dryad spoke she was more than just a resident here, she was the owner. Perhaps even a manifestation of the tree itself, seeing as how she referred to it as her own body. Although it was unaware as to the true capabilities of her species, the avatar of a millennia-old magical plant was clearly not one to be trifled with.
Boxxy Saw a way to obtain not only her permission in establishing a dungeon, but also her cooperation. Perhaps her servitude as well.
“So about these termites, they’ll come back, right?”
“‘Tis so, young Morningwood. The biggest nest was cleared out due to thy servant’s efforts, but ‘tis hardly the only one. Could be in a month, a year, or a decade, but they shall return to full strength without fail.”
“What if I told you I have a way for you to control those bugs?”
“Control, not exterminate?”
“That’s right. Tell me, do you know what a dungeon is?”
“Does thou mean the underground prisons those elves have built beneath mine roots?”
“No. Wrong type of dungeon. The one I’m talking about involves the, um, ‘profane object’ you saw earlier.”
The shapeshifter then spoke at length about what it had learned about dungeon cores over the past month or so. First, they had absorbed a certain amount of magical energy and attune themselves to their magically enriched environment. After that, they had to be anchored in a magically affixed position, at which point the dungeon would be officially established, and its territory could expand as long as the surrounding mana density permitted. All of that was controlled by the core’s first basic function—Dungeon Expansion.
