Chapter 174: Dimensional Damage
Excerpt from the book “Food for thought!” By Hig’s
Golden apples, they make my mouth salivate. Since they taste super good, of course. Doesn’t help that you need iron teeth to even bite the blighters. Golden cows throw them up for some reason. More for us. Anyway, they will heal most wounds, bar decapitation, and amputation. So, I always keep a good… Stack. For emergencies, believe me. I absolutely don’t snack on the sweet and succulent flesh of the fruit. Thank my papa for being rich. They also go off very slowly, which I love.
I hear there is an even more awesome apple, the enchanted golden apple. Well, I haven’t just heard it; I’ve seen one. My Pa got one, locked it in a safe for an emergency. Apparently, it’s tough to die after eating one. I’ve been trying to break in and ste…. Borrow it, but he keeps it locked uptight.
It is okay, though, as I have a plan. This safe is magically warded, costs a lot. Cant actually open it, even with my Pa’s blood, so I have got a plan. You see, he opens it once a week on Sunday like clockwork to deposit his royal stamp letters. Got to keep those safe; otherwise, he is in big trouble.
So… I steal it when he opens the safe. Just got to distract him. So, plan to make an enormous racket behind him, swoop in, grab it, run. Wish me luck.
I awoke, being shuck awake by Paul. His strong arms tossing me around like a ragdoll. “Wake up ya end rock, get up. Dimension crash incoming; don’t be a Sitta and be caught out.” That is all he said before he flickered out and disappeared.
With a litter of adrenaline pumping through me, I jump out of bed. Equipping my armor with haste. An eerie silence permeates my room. At first, listening for birds before realizing my shield likely keeps them out.
“Well, let’s get outside and have a look,” I say to myself, hoping Paul is pranking me.
Walking through my now regrettably long hallway, followed by Sling and Chic. The companionable silence was appreciated. Just in case, I grab them in a golden lasso. Mentally apologizing to Chic. When I stepped out of the building, I was greeted by a bright and sunny day. Feeling a pulse of annoyance at being duped by Paul.
Chic mentally prods me that something isn’t right, though. How she can mentally poke me through the golden lasso, I don’t know.
Stepping outside, I am shown a beautiful sunny day. A gentle breeze, swaying grass, and absolutely nothing of it. Now, if my energy perception wasn’t screaming at me, I would think of it all as a false alarm.
With cautious steps, I approach the edge. Peering over, looking upon the elven encampment. Suddenly deeply regretting having them near my home. The portal is crumbling apart, disintegrating as the green swirl lashes out with vicious energy. All mana nearby is being turned to gas and pulled into the violent revolutions. As the pools dried up, the plants around it began to wither as it sucked them of energy.
The small village was blaring with alarms as elves evacuated with great haste, concerning me further. Instead of investigating the dangerous-looking dimensional hazard, I began to erect layer upon layer of obsidian. The thing looks like it’s about to blow. Along with this, I hastily generated more shields as fast as I could. Creating the most significant gap I can from it.
Yet, it was all for naught. It didn’t blow like the bomb it looked like. The world grew blurry, then split in two. Yet, one of the realities was clearly fake; it was the same one we were in since the start. The second ghostly image looked far more accurate, like a photograph of quality so high the edges could cut. Suddenly, the richer picture grew more opaque, overshadowing the current reality. Like the switch of a level, everything shuddered then stopped.
Panic set in for a moment; turning around, I see that my island is intact. The surrounding area was not so lucky. Miss placed mountains, hills, forests, deserts, snow, and many biomes I cant recognize were thrown together like sprinkles on a cake. An almost checkerboard pattern dotted the landscape, varying in size per biome.
The only reason my island was untouched was how far it rests in the sky. Something that, admittedly, rarely changes. At worst, I would have had a slime island appear within.
Sitting on the edge of the island, I contemplate the impact my actions have had. On the one hand, I’ve saved an entire race who were racing into the void. But I also damned a lot of people to death. Walls broken, families split apart, society as we know It is fractured. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, catching myself before I blame the elves. This was my fault. Shedding a single tear for everyone who will die due to my actions. Even if it was an action made in good faith. All the worst things in existence started from a good place.
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Turning around, I see Jengal stumble out of the mansion, almost drunk. My eagle eyes showing me in startling clarity how disorientated he was. He eventually wanders over, “Hey, did you see all that wonky vision stuff, or do they need to take me to the tower?”
I smile lightly, “take a look and decide yourself,” I say, pointing with my nose at the horizon.
He rubs his eyes like one of those comedic people on tv; I almost hear the window squeak.
“What in the nether is that?” He asks me.
I just shrug, “a fast way to end a war.”
He looks around for a long time at the strange sight, or at least odd for him. Personally, Minecraft has always had a few times where terrain generation screwed up.
It’s good that this coincided with the war; given all the accumulated military power, it will help stabilize the continent. But I have a sneaking suspicion of something. “Jengal, I will be right back.”
I remarked my home with a second waypoint before teleporting to my usual town. Or so it should have been. Instead, I teleported to a wild jungle. “The world was scrambled; that’s not good.”
Looking around for a moment, some unusual movement catches my eye. Turning, I see an Ent, not a witchery ent, a Lycanite mob ent. Which means… “oh, no. A lot of people are gonna die.”
With great haste, I return home. Entering my clone storage, I switch to the clone that I kept in the town. Being rocketed towards it. It took significantly longer than before to reach it. The obsidian bunker seemed untouched, reinforced with shields after all. But even though the walls are thick, I could hear loud sounds. Vibrations going even into the earth.
Hastily, I rush out of the bunker. Quickly finding my home torn to shreds from being divided in two and combat damage.
Looking outside, I expected to find Lycanite mobs ripping the town to shreds. Instead, I see people fighting, running, and screaming. Maybe one or two of the mobs, but most of the damage is Human. Fighting phantoms in sheer panic. People who I recognized, completely different. Pale faces and sunken eyes, shaky and scared. Seeing them in that state sent a pulse of cold pain through my chest.
With cold determination, I step forward. Spotting all the actual lycanite mobs, slowing my own time down, and eliminating them. For the viewers, they instantly all died; I stud upon their rapidly disintegrating corpses. The dramatic show caught many people’s eyes, while some were still looting. With the loudest voice I could muster, I shouted, “stop!”
Even more, eyes are drawn to me. Still, a few shadier individuals slink into the shadow of the overgrown swamp that materialized inside the town. With the attention on me, I breathe deeply. “Why are you all fighting when you should be working together!?” I scream in anger. How could they be so stupid?!
“Roundup!” I shout, demanding them to gather together. They look at each other, questioning looks on their faces. Once the first few walked towards me, the others did too.
Pointing at the less frenzied-looking man at the front, “you, come here and explain what happened.”
He hesitantly rises and walks towards me. A slight stutter in his voice as he speaks. “It shifted; everything shifted.” Rubbing his hair. “Creatures we had never seen before began to overwhelm the guards, those that were still around.” Inhaling a deep breath, “I ran; I didn’t know what to do. People fought for resources; everyone wanted a weapon.”
He intended to continue, but I held up my hand. Stemming his voice. “I understand you are all afraid,” I say, addressing the crowd. “But, right now is the most critical time for people to work together. The moment night falls, you guys are screwed. Fighting over swords that won’t help you.”
A younger man shouts out, “better than our fists.”
Shooting him a cold glare, “at this cost? You guys will kill each other before anything touches you.” Shaking my head at the utter stupidity. Humans are just stupid at all times.
Placing a crafting table, using some iron, I make a bunch of iron sabers, swords, and axes as weapons. Throwing them at the crowd. They began to rush towards them but slowed as I went, “single fire.” Shooting them a glare. They were still restless but maintained a semblance of order.
Once they were all comfortably armed, I started throwing pickaxes, axes, and shovels at them. “Well, if you want to live, build a wall,” I say, stirring them into action. They all begin to run around digging up the stone from the ground. A few individuals took control, commanding people into tasks. I noticed they were more well-dressed. Shrugging, as long as they aren’t gonna die.
Just as I go to walk away, 2 people start to fight. Approaching, I see one of them is in strange garments. Pulling the two apart, I notice the strangely garbed man has slightly squint eyes and pitch-black hair.
“Woh, woh, woh, calm down. What’s the fight about?”
The more common man shouts, “Soil monks here to cause trouble!”
He interjects, “I was thrown her just like all of you! And don’t you dare call me a soil monk, you Techfah!”
“Shut it!” I shout over them.
Turning to the strangely garbed man, “who are you, and where are you from?”
“Linson, south coast of the empire! Names Tod.”
“Which empire?”
He creases his brows, “the earthen empire.”
Rubbing my helmeted head, “great, it was a complete scramble.”
Walking away, I turn my head, “try not to kill each other.” Sighing at the annoying situations.
So, the entire continent has been scrambled. So much for the military being functional, they may very well have been yeeted into the middle of the wilderness.
Taking out my phone, I message everyone that isn’t at my island. Checking upon them. This includes Average, the witches, the Dagger family. Hoping they are safe. I don’t have many regular friends, so everyone is likely to be safe. I’m positive Average has a shadow and the witches, well, are witches. They are in tune with nature, so to speak. The dagger family undoubtedly has round-the-clock guards; they’d have to be really unlucky to be caught out.
This is an even bigger mess than the war. Perhaps this is a good chance, though. If I were to make a city, a wonderous town for all to come and seek refuge. I think I like that idea, and it can be placed right near my giant ass floating island. Living high upon the sky, overlooking my city. Now I have to plan it, preparing infrastructures like sewers and stuff. I can’t wait.