TravelingDreamer
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B4—Chapter 41: Monkey Business and Boring Plants
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 10:24:37 +0000 UTCThe hailstorm lasted five days straight. On the first day, the hailstones were massive, about the size of tennis balls, but by the second day, they had shrunk to something closer to large marbles. Once we saw the manageable size, I closed up my house, and we made a run for the building we’d picked out earlier. During our first flyover, while cleaning the city, it seemed like the most intact and the best fit for what we needed.
Al, Rue, and I cast Mana Shield to protect from the hail. It was smaller, but not small. Al was nice and loaned Mahya his shield as head protection. The building we’d picked wasn’t far, but the piles of debris and the twenty centimeters of hail covering the ground made running a challenge. It ended up taking us close to ten minutes to get there.
The building looked impressive once, but now it was barely holding itself together. Though cracked and missing parts, the dome still stood, its remaining tiles clinging on as if unaware of its crumbling state. Chipped and missing, the Arabian-style carvings’ flowing patterns and sharp lines left gaps in the walls that the wind whistled through.
The left side of the building was beyond saving—a heap of rubble tangled with vines and weeds. The right side looked like it still had a bit of life in it. A few tall archways led inside, their faded designs barely visible from where we stood. One column remained intact but leaned at such a precarious angle that you couldn’t help but wonder if a loud sneeze might bring it down.
Al pushed it to “test its durability.” The column gave in immediately, crashing down with a deafening noise that made Rue yelp and shuffle closer to me.
Mahya smacked the back of his head. “Idiot.”
Al calmly brushed her hand away. “Please refrain from doing that. I do not appreciate such jokes.”
“It wasn’t a joke! What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wanted to ensure it would not fall on our heads later,” Al replied, his tone as matter-of-fact.
I couldn’t help but nod. “He’s got a point,” I said, only to get the stink eye from Mahya. “Don’t give me that look,” I added quickly. “You know he’s not wrong.”
She huffed, crossing her arms, but let it drop. Rue, meanwhile, peeked up at the now-missing column and gave a low, suspicious growl at the debris. I scratched his ear, and he relaxed but told me, “Al dummy.”
Al didn’t react, so I guessed it was a private communication.
Most of the building’s lobby was still intact, which made it perfect for what I needed. I set up the house in its compact form right in the center of the lobby, and we all headed inside to dry off and warm up.
Once settled, I pulled out my to-do lists to figure out how to use my time. I knew that without a detailed plan for the winter, I’d end up jumping from one thing to another and wouldn’t accomplish anything meaningful. I reviewed my lists, cross-checking them with what I had in Storage to decide which tasks would be the most productive to tackle.
1. Continue training to improve my ability to see mana.
2. Figure out how the crystal lamp from Lumis works.
3. Figure out how to build a food storage room that mimics our Storage’s effects. I had already set aside a stack of books to study for this.
4. Learn the runes and magic scripts I still haven’t mastered—maybe I’ll find a way to make my spells less mana-intensive.
5. Solve the issue with the Clean and Purify spells.
6. General looting spell for creatures that are not snakes of herbivores - maybe two spells?
7. Practice mind-splitting and push to increase the number of splits I can handle.
8. Maybe another spiral?
The list was ready, but I didn’t feel like jumping into tasks right away. We had a whole winter ahead of us, with a few breaks to clear dungeons, so nothing was urgent. I spent the rest of the day preparing a sumptuous meal to welcome winter. The meal started with a creamy chestnut and thyme soup with thick slices of sourdough bread for dipping. For the main course, I roasted herb-crusted lamb alongside honey-glazed carrots and parsnips, with a generous heap of buttery mashed potatoes on the side. Dessert was a warm, spiced apple crumble, its sweet aroma filling the house as I poured the thick, creamy custard over each serving. Winter deserved a proper welcome, and this feast felt like the way to do it.
The meal was a resounding success with three bottles of wine, and afterward, we were all half-lying in the living room. None of us could move or sit up straight.
“I still don’t understand why you gave up all the skill points from the cooking workshops. If you hadn’t done it, you would have gotten the profession of cook or chef a long time ago,” Mahya said, leaning back against the arm of the couch with a questioning head tilt.
“That’s exactly why I did it. Cooking is my hobby. Once it becomes a profession, it won’t be so much fun anymore,” I said, stretching my legs out and resting my head on the back of the couch.
“Yeah, but you could gain levels and stats if you pursued it,” Al said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the coffee table as if working through a mental equation.
“Maybe. But I’d rather give up some stats than lose my enjoyment of cooking,” I said, shrugging lightly and catching Mahya’s gaze.
“I don’t think you’re right,” Mahya said, her brow furrowing as she shifted to get more comfortable. “From what I’ve noticed, the two things you love most are music and cooking. After you got the Bard class, you didn’t lose your love of music. On the contrary, it gave you the tools to create what you love, not just listen to it.”
Hmm, she has a point.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, stretching out further, my arms reaching lazily over my head as I let out a contented sigh.
For the rest of the days, while the hailstorm continued, I didn’t do anything that felt like work. I played my guitar, violin, and cello, letting the music fill the cozy silence of the house. I read a pretty disappointing thriller, muttering complaints under my breath at its predictable twists, cooked interesting food with a winter twist that filled the air with warm, spiced aromas, and scratched Rue’s ears whenever he demanded it, which was often and always accompanied by his pleased, tail-thumping approval.
After five days, the hailstorm finally ended, and Mahya immediately wanted to take the opportunity to clear one dungeon in the monkey area. As luck would have it, the first dungeon we entered was the monkey dungeon.
The run was pretty routine, with nothing exciting. The terrain in the dungeon was a dense forest, with vines hanging from the trees that the monkeys used to swing from tree to tree like Tarzan. It was pretty easy to take them down, and once again, I felt superfluous.
Mahya and Al took down most of them with a rifle and wind blades, while Rue dealt with a few monkeys in his own gruesome style, tearing out their throats. But then, one particularly nasty monkey turned the tables. While Rue was biting its throat, it sank its teeth into Rue’s leg—using an extra mouth it had in its stomach. That’s when I realized my dog had spent way too much time with Mahya.
He whined pitifully, limping toward me, his ears pinned back. But while he hobbled over, he was telepathically cursing the monkey nonstop. “Bad-smelling asshole. Good-for-nothing imbecile. Stupid son of a woman…”
Mahya and Al were shaking with laughter, especially when Rue, in his righteous indignation, carefully swapped out the word bitch for something more fitting for his canine sensibilities.
I didn’t think it was funny and gave them both the stink eye, but that just made them laugh harder, nearly doubling over.
With friends like that, who needs enemies?
The final guardian was the strangest monkey I’d ever seen. Its face was an unsettling mix of a monkey and a bulldog, with jowls that made it look fierce and grotesque. It had four muscular arms and two extra mouths—one on its stomach and another smack in the middle of its chest. When I first saw it, a disgusted shiver ran down my spine. Everything about it was just wrong.
At least here, I finally had a role to play. This monkey’s defense was insane. Mahya emptied at least fifty bullets into it. Al drained all his mana, chugged a potion, drained his mana again, and still had to fight it hand-to-hand with his sword. Meanwhile, I was practically frying it with lightning channeled non-stop, but the beast refused to fall.
When I got tired of the back-and-forth, I aimed directly into the mouth on its chest. I channeled red lightning, the air crackling with heat and energy as it surged into the thing’s chest cavity. That finally seemed to make a difference. The boss staggered, its hulking form slowing, but it still took almost another half hour of relentless attacks before it went down.
When it finally fell, I was convinced this was the enemy with the highest defense we’d ever encountered. Maybe even more than the sentient final guardian back in the mushroom valley dungeon in Lumis.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t dangerous enough to push me into doing something new or cool on instinct. Oh well, maybe next time.
The rewards were… odd. It was obvious they were tailor-made for us, but still bizarre. We all got spell scrolls.
I got:
Nature’s Music
A channeled spell to make nearby plants sway, bend, and move harmoniously with any music played. Whether it’s the gentle strum of a lute or the rhythmic beat of drums, the plants respond as if dancing to the melody—the mana cost scales with the duration of the channeling.
Mahya got:
Nature’s Echo
A spell that allows a Wood Artisan to connect deeply with the history of a tree by receiving an echo of the emotions it experienced during its existence. By casting the spell, the artisan gains insight into moments of joy, sorrow, growth, or harm that the tree endured. The mana cost is 200, reflecting the depth of the connection and the clarity of the emotional resonance provided.
Al got:
Nature’s Bonds
A spell that allows a botanist or alchemist to sense the intricate interpersonal connections between plants in their gardens or greenhouses. By casting it, the caster perceives the subtle relationships that form over time—alliances between close-rooted neighbors, silent feuds over sunlight, and quiet companionships that thrive in the shade.
Mana cost: varies based on the size of the garden or greenhouse.
And Rue got the weirdest of the bunch:
Nature’s Whispers
A spell that allows a dog to sense the faint murmurs of plants, experienced as subtle scents and vibrations. When cast, the dog can detect if a plant feels content, distressed, or alert, interpreting these impressions instinctively. The connection lasts only briefly, leaving behind an odd sense of familiarity with the surrounding greenery.
Mana cost: varies based on the area of effect.
After we identified all the scrolls, we exchanged bewildered glances. Mahya broke the silence by slapping the back of my head.
“Hey! What did you do that for?” I protested, rubbing the spot and glaring at her.
“You’re the one who wanted to get cool stuff instead of gold,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at me.
“It’s not like I changed the dungeon rewards,” I shot back, throwing my hands in the air. “They were weird to begin with.”
“With your Luck Trait, I’m not so sure,” she countered, her tone laced with mock suspicion. “I have a feeling this is your fault.”
I didn’t bother to keep arguing. Instead, I just stuck my tongue out at her, earning an amused snort from Al in the background.
Rue announced, “Rue not want plant friends. Plants boring. John take scroll.” He gave me a huff and a pointed look.
At least this time, the harvest was easier for me. Mahya eyed the trees with a critical frown, running her hand over the bark. After a moment, she snorted and shook her head. “Completely useless,” she said, brushing her palms together as though ridding herself of the thought. The trunks weren’t uniform but layered like onions—totally impractical for her needs.
Al, on the other hand, was in heaven. The dungeon was overflowing with herbs, and he buzzed around like an overly caffeinated bee, picking, sorting, and scribbling notes with barely contained excitement. Occasionally, he let out a quiet “Fascinating” or “Oh, look at this one!” as though he’d discovered treasure.
Rue sprawled in a patch of sun near the edge of the clearing, his paws twitching in his sleep. Every now and then, a lazy telepathic grumble drifted into my head. “Plants boring. Rue nap.”
Mahya and I exchanged glances and shrugged. She flipped open a book, her expression serene, while I leaned back against a tree and opened my own. We both read quietly, letting Al’s quiet muttering fill the air as the hours dragged on.
Eventually, Al gave a satisfied sigh, brushing dirt off his hands as though he’d conquered the world. My core absorbed everything the dungeon had left behind, leaving only hazy edges. Mahya stored the core, and the dungeon spit us out.
The clear sky greeted us, a welcome change from the stormy days before. “Thank you, Guiding Spirits,” I murmured, savoring the blue sky. Small miracles, but I’d take them.
Comments
TravelingDreamer
😂😂😂😂
Patrick S.
Imagine they let the core absorb another landfill and go to sleep just to find out its a few kilomters deep the next day 😂
TravelingDreamer
They are still searching for it's limit ...
Patrick S.
Shouldnt Johns core be full at sone time? Its getting ridiculous 😂
