by Neven Iliev
Everybody Loves Large Chests
Volume Five: Teresa
A book by Neven Iliev
Prologue
Keira Morgana, a fresh-faced Republic recruit, was lauded as the hero of Fort Yimin. While she hadn’t participated in the battle directly, she ensured the Republic’s victory by convincing five immature dryads to help the elven nation wipe out the invading Imperial forces as part of Operation Honeytrap. Of course, she hadn’t solely contributed to the bold plan’s success. Much like any military endeavor, it wouldn’t have been made possible without strategic planning, raw materials, and the lives of soldiers.
However, it seemed that the higher-ups were intent on having a lowly conscript like Keira take a significant portion of the credit. Not only was the beastkin’s part in Operation Honeytrap crucial, but they also wanted to minimize the Sandman’s involvement. The mysterious mercenary may have provided the means of awakening the dryads of Fort Yimin, but he was an outsider. The Ishigar Republic’s administration didn’t want its citizens to know that they were forced to rely on a rogue, unknown element like Sandman. Having a cute, spunky, redheaded, cat-eared conscript serve as the face of their success was a far more attractive proposition.
In a fit of delicious irony, the government’s propaganda campaign ended up doing nearly exactly what it was supposed to avoid. None of them could fathom the petite catgirl called Keira Morgana and the towering figure of the Sandman were both Boxxy T. Morningwood’s alter egos. This outcome was ideal for the fledgling shapeshifter. Boxxy not only received exorbitant payment for its efforts, but it also benefited from increased trust and recognition from the unsuspecting masses. Such a development would rapidly accelerate the rate at which its Doppelganger Job gained Levels.
The shapeshifter wasn’t yet aware of this development, however. From its present point of view, its biggest concern was putting the aforementioned dryads to bed, which meant maintaining Keira’s character while indulging in their childish whims for a while longer. One such request was to carve the words ‘Mommy loves you’ into the heartwood of the one called Lilly. The monster wasn’t quite sure why it was asked to, but it had no reason to object. It had a lot of extra time, and etching letters on the inside walls of an immense tree trunk cost little of it. It was also an opportunity to put Ambrosia’s Divine language lessons into practice, so it decided to treat the exercise as a learning experience.
“Is this good enough?” it asked in Keira’s sweet voice.
“Yeah! It’s the best, Mommy!”
Boxxy did a marvelous job keeping a straight face as the five dryads around it shouted in unison. Those annoying, squeaky voices never failed to get on its nerves. As far as sounds went, the quintuplets’ chorus was the opposite of tasty. It put forward its utmost effort to listen as this was thankfully the last time it would need to.
“I’m glad,” the beastkin smiled warmly at the dryads.
[Your actions have altered the flows of chaos.]
Boxxy’s smile quivered involuntarily as the notification popped up in its head. It wasn’t sure what it did to trigger its Agent of Chaos Skill, but it dreaded the implication that something ridiculous would happen just as those brats fell asleep. It felt that maybe it shouldn’t have indulged them so thoroughly, but what was done was done. Its best course of action was pretending nothing happened while it finished putting the dryads to bed.
“Um… Mommy?” Pinea spoke up. “Is- is it okay if you sang to us again?”
“Yeah, Mommy’s songs are always funny and strange!” Birchis added.
“I really want to hear about the shiny stars again!” Castelia chimed in.
Numerous shouts of ‘Yeah!’ and ‘Please!’ bombarded Keira.
“Okay! Okay, settle down now!” she exclaimed while waving her hands around in mock embarrassment. “You girls want a lullaby, then?”
“What’s a lullaby?” they asked all at once.
“It’s a song to make sure you sleep well.”
“... So we’re going back to sleep after all?” Pinea cast her eyes downward. While all the dryads clung incessantly to their ‘Mommy,’ she had grown especially attached to Keira.
“You have to, sweetie. Otherwise, you won’t grow up big and strong. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No... but will Mommy be there when we wake up?”
Absolutely not! I’ve had enough of you damned brats! Just go to sleep and leave me alone!
Those were Boxxy’s honest feelings, but Keira obviously had to say something else.
“I can’t promise that, but you can’t let me keep you from achieving your potential. Your future is important to me, so while it pains me to see you go, you have to go back to sleep. It’s for your own good.”
Pinea’s eyes were on the verge of tears, which made the other quintuplets quite emotional as well. Boxxy wanted to avoid dealing with a bunch of bawling brats, so it tried to quickly think of something reassuring to tell them.
“So, can you do that? Can you be strong for Mommy?” is the best it could come up with.
That seemed to do the trick, as the emotional dryad blinked away her tears and looked up with what was probably determination.
“Okay! I’ll do it!”
“Good girl,” the catgirl smiled, then hugged Pinea.
“Hey, no fair!” shouted the other four in unison.
“It’s okay, Mommy has plenty of hugs for everyone!”
Keira embraced each of them in turn, after which the dryads finally settled in. They laid down on soft beds of leaves and grass just like their Mommy. The redhead then began singing a slow, calming version of the one-of-a-kind song tentatively titled Shiny Star. She sang it over and over for fifteen more minutes until the effects of Elder Dryad’s Authority wore off like clockwork, exactly one week since it was activated.
By this point, the five juvenile plant-girls had already fallen asleep and were sinking slowly into the bark-covered floor of the inner sanctum within Lilly’s tree. They would eventually return to their own trees through their intermingled roots, so falling into hibernation here wasn’t a problem. Not that Boxxy cared. It was overjoyed to finally be rid of them, and if everything went well, it would never have to deal with them again.
[The flows of chaos have returned to their default, causal state.]
Then came a pleasant surprise. It had no idea what the Agent of Chaos did in that short time, which was good. If the change wasn’t immediately obvious, then Boxxy could withdraw from the place without worry. It figured whatever had happened likely wouldn’t take full effect until the next time the quintuplets woke up. Which, as far as it was concerned, would be so far into the future that it wasn’t worth worrying about. It therefore decided to pay no heed to the streaks of red spreading through the dryads’ green grass-hair as they sank into the floor.
The dryads officially became someone else’s problem.
Chapter One
The Difficulty of Caring
Part One
After actively ignoring any responsibility it might have had for potentially catastrophic future events, Boxxy was looking forward to getting some rest. Though not physically demanding, babysitting those brats was mentally draining. The monster couldn’t retire just yet, though. Before the battle ended, it convinced the dryads to retrieve a hundred and fifty of the more well-preserved, stronger-looking bodies from the field. Those corpses were currently piled up in the corner of Lilly’s saferoom, eagerly awaiting the shapeshifter’s attention. They were surprisingly well preserved considering two days passed since their death, and Boxxy was eager to see what it could gain from them.
Without further ado, the for
mer mimic set about processing every one of those morsels with Cadaver Absorption. The Skill failed to gain anything from most of them, which was expected. It wasn’t too bothered since the sheer volume of corpses meant there would inevitably be quite a few successes. Eleven of them were minor ones that granted it a number of raw Attributes, totaling 144 STR, 98 DEX, 41 AGI, 97 END, 120 INT, and 44 WIS. It was a significant boost in power, but the highlights of the harvesting session were the outcomes that resulted in new Skills and Jobs.
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a moderate success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Skill Proficiency has been added to your own.]
[Proficiency level increased. Axe Mastery is now Level 6. STR +18. DEX +6.]
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a major success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Job Level has been added to your own.]
[Level up!]
[Level up!]
...
[Congratulations, you are now a Level 13 Rogue! DEX +26. AGI +26. END +26.]
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a moderate success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Skill Proficiency has been added to your own.]
[Proficiency level increased. Sword Mastery is now Level 10. STR +2. DEX +2.]
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a major success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Job Level has been added to your own.]
[Job slots full. Unable to learn Job: Priest.]
[Proficiency level increased. Cadaver Absorption is now Level 9. All Attributes +1.]
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a moderate success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Skill Proficiency has been added to your own.]
[Proficiency level increased. Shield Mastery is now Level 10. STR +4. END +4.]
[Your Cadaver Absorption was a moderate success!]
[26% of the target’s highest Skill Proficiency has been added to your own.]
[The Natural Affinity (AFF) Attribute has been created by a special action. AFF +1.]
[Proficiency level increased. Primal Mastery is now Level 5. AFF +10. INT +5. WIS +5.]
Unfortunately, the Skills obtained were not all that tasty. The extra Attribute boosts were nothing to complain about but Boxxy seriously doubted that Axe Mastery and Primal Mastery would ever come into use. While axes had some battle applications, Boxxy preferred swords and daggers because they allowed it to fully utilize its finesse and precision. Not only were they quieter, but also stabbing someone to death made it easier to hide and preserve the body as opposed to hacking them apart.
Primal Mastery was even more useless. As the name implied, the Skill bolstered the effects of Spells belonging to the Primal school of magic. Only Druids and Shamans used such incantations, and Boxxy was neither. At the very least, acquiring the Skill unlocked the creature’s Natural Affinity (AFF) Attribute, though it wasn’t immediately apparent how it would be useful to Boxxy. From what it understood, AFF measured one’s sensitivity to the natural forces and made certain Druid and Shaman Skills more effective. It was a somewhat abstract Attribute that could rise and fall depending on the individual’s actions, similar to Faith (FTH). Boxxy hoped it wouldn’t cause problems if it happened to dip into the negatives.
Skills aside, the Job gains weren’t exciting, either. As Boxxy suspected, Rogue Skills had a lot of overlap with the abilities of its Mimic Job. Additionally, the newly acquired vocation took up the shapeshifter’s eighth and apparently final Job Slot. At least it wasn’t another permanent blemish on its Status like that useless Cat Job. The monster could easily have a Scribe remove the Rogue Job once it got back to Azurvale, and it had every intention of doing so. It was something Boxxy did several times in the past, so it had the process down to a science.
First, it masqueraded itself as a disillusioned rookie adventurer who wanted to start over with a clean slate. It was a common story that didn’t raise any questions so long as the relevant fees were paid. Initially the shapeshifter held some reservations regarding the procedure since it was loathe to revisit the foggy, painful memory of having its Warlock Job forcibly taken. However, it had since learned that Job Removal was completely painless so long as the individual willingly participated. In such cases, the worst possible side effects were a bit of memory loss, a mild case of depression, and a sudden onset of fatigue.
Conversely, a forced Job Removal would result in the physically and mentally traumatizing experience Boxxy underwent during its imprisonment. The separation was more harrowing as its body and mind instinctively resisted having parts of them stripped away. This resistance wasn’t completely in vain as Job Removal could not forcibly target Jobs of equal or higher Level to the user’s Scribe Job. In other words, it was theoretically impossible to take away someone’s Level 100 Job unless they willed it. In practice, the threshold was even lower since very few Scribes reached a Level higher than 80 in their lifetimes.
The subject of lifespans was one that had given Boxxy a bit of distress. According to its research, dungeon mimics would normally only live for a year before their unstable bodies began to rapidly degenerate. Though it already evolved beyond that species, the shapeshifter couldn’t help but feel this was unfair. It was also relieved to learn that, barring Rank Ups, doppelgangers would outlive enlightened races by a few decades on average. According to records from the days of the Silent War, there were quite a few doppelgangers with ages in the triple digits at the time of their capture. Boxxy felt good about not having to worry about old age for a long, long time.
A far more pressing concern was surviving long enough to reach that point. It didn’t matter how long-lived an individual was if they couldn’t avoid getting murdered by a devious monster. The ‘Holy Necromancer’ and the idiotic Warlock that died in the siege of Fort Yimin were prime examples of this harsh truth. The Necromancer was already subjected to the Cadaver Absorption, but Boxxy got nothing out of him since the Skill failed. Because of course it failed. The current success rate was roughly one in ten, so the odds weren’t in the creature’s favor. Boxxy, bummed out by the statistics, lessened its expectation for the potential gains from Shinji’s corpse. Still, in the event it got lucky, the monster wanted to maximize its gains. It decided to keep the foolish otherworlder’s remains safely tucked away inside its Storage until it was able to raise the maximum Level of its Warlock Job above 50.
However, before anything could happen, Boxxy T. Morningwood had to overcome its next trial. Mentally preparing itself for what was to come, the monster ever-so-slightly changed Keira’s relentlessly smiling face. The catgirl’s mouth curled into a small, barely-there frown, while her bright eyes full of energy became oddly dull as she cast them at her feet. She hugged herself across the stomach as if she were cold and made sure her head, shoulders, tail, and ears were visibly drooping.
Is this enough? it pondered. Or is it too much? I’m not entirely sure. Well, only way to be sure is to try it out and see what happens!
The catgirl walked out of the silent safe room for the very last time and stepped out onto a massive road-sized branch hundreds of meters above the ground. The dryads were previously responsible for transporting her to and from that altitude, but they were no longer awake. As such, Keira needed an alternate route down to the ground. Her superiors foresaw this issue and stationed a Wizard on the branch.
The middle-aged elf was supposed to fly her down with his magic, but he momentarily forgot his duty when his eyes laid upon the distraught-looking redhead. Her quiet sadness tugged at his heartstrings, rendering him speechless. He wanted to say something encouraging to cheer her up, but he wasn’t exactly in a great mood himself. Though his side claimed victory in the battle, the gruesome nature of it would no doubt haunt the nightmares of all who witnessed it. He couldn’t imagine how the girl that shouldered the responsibility for that massacre would feel. He ended up levitating himself and beastkin down to ground level in an awkward silence. He also noticed she was quite a bit heavier than she looked, though the heavy
air around her kept him from saying anything insensitive.
The two of them touched down on one of the keep’s rounded corner towers. The carnage from the slaughter two days ago was mostly cleaned up, but the air was still heavy with the stink of blood and death. The bodies of the fallen soldiers and adventurers were either buried or cremated with magic, but only after being sanctified. Ghastly battlefields were a common place for the undead to rise and spread their Blight, so it was necessary to take certain precautions to ensure the casualties of war stayed put. The victor, through common sense and international law, was responsible for enacting these measures with utmost care and respect for the dead.
What a waste of human flesh.
Of course, those were enlightened sensibilities, so a certain monster held an entirely different view on the matter.
“Are- Are you okay?” the Wizard asked, clearly worried.
“Hmm?” Keira stared blankly at him.
“You, uh, spaced out for a second there…”
“O-oh… Yes, I’m okay. Or at least I will be… eventually…” she weakly mustered.
That was close. Boxxy remembered the absolutely intoxicating smell of twenty thousand humans’ worth of freshly spilled blood and nearly cracked a smile. It was a feast beyond anything it had ever seen, yet it could only claim a tiny fraction for fear of raising too much suspicion. Simply put, it was a disappointing outcome.
“Look,” the elf spoke up again, “I know high command wants to speak with you as soon as possible, but if you-”
“I said I’m fine!” she snapped back, causing the man slight recoil. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll be going now. And… thanks for the lift.”
She finished the exchange with a weak smile as she opened one of the wooden trap doors in the floor, headed down the tower’s spiral stone staircase, and stepped into the keep itself. She walked to the familiar conference room and entered it after knocking to announce her presence. Inside were four faces she grew accustomed to seeing over the past week. Primus Underwood, Prefect Vera, Legate Aidun, and the slightly mysterious strategist called Drannor. She made sure to rest her eyesight on Faehorn’s empty seat for a good three or four seconds before sitting down in front of her superior officers.
