It took me a few days to fully get over my ill-fated ocean exploration. While the fight had felt endless at the time, in retrospect, I realized I’d never been in any real danger. The squids had a strange hodgepodge of skills and spells, but it was clear that their most advanced skill was their camouflage. Not that I’d enjoyed getting dogpiled by tentacles, but very few of them had been able to damage me through my armor.
And how could I stay mad at them? I had a new ingredient to work with now.
Somehow, that fact didn’t seem to thrill Cal or Verin, but I chalked that up mostly to my unfamiliarity with cooking squid. I knew it could make for some really good eating, but it was far trickier than your standard meat. Even if you cooked it just a bit off, it would have an unpleasant, spongy texture -- or in other cases, a rubbery chewiness -- and I hadn’t figured out how to fully strip it of its fishy taste, either.
Well, no matter. I’d get it eventually.
In any case, after a long nap and a lot of revenge cooking, I was back to normal, whatever normal meant these days. A small part of me was even looking forward to returning to the sea now that I knew what to expect. More than any of the other regions, it was excellent sword training, which I sorely needed. I’d long since reached the Initiate rank with spears, axes, bows, daggers, and hammers, but swords still lagged behind at level six.
Cephalopods and other sea creatures aside, I was presently en route to secure us an entirely different set of new ingredients. A month had finally passed, and it was time to visit Arbor again. As the one with the strongest opinions on what I wanted him to grow, I’d opted to go by myself, enjoying a relaxing stroll through the woods.
By now, I’d tested out all ten variants of Arcane Choker, but I swapped through them as I walked nonetheless. Partly, I was hoping to grow more familiar with each of them, but I was also trying to see if there was anything I’d missed. For example, I’d tried overloading the skill by sending it more mana, and it had worked!
Sort of.
The additional mana didn’t actually improve the effects of the skill, but it did manifest in my breath. Adding extra mana to the fire variant, for instance, made my breath extra warm and released some fire mana as I exhaled. It even carried a slight scent element, making it smell as though I’d just brushed my teeth with cinnamon toothpaste. The effect was considerably stranger with the less conventional mana types, as overloading my choker with light mana caused me to release a luminescent cloud with each breath.
A novel new way to light up a room, but one I doubted I’d use much. Maybe something I could use with dark mana if I ever needed to scare someone, as I had to imagine breathing out black fog could be intimidating, but that was about it.
Speaking of the dark choker, I switched to it now. It held skills that were far better suited to Cal’s old class, but I enjoyed them nonetheless.
Veiled Lips
Allows the wearer to muffle all sounds leaving their mouth. Alternatively, the wearer can use the choker to obfuscate their voice by pitching it downwards. Aids in late night digestion.
“Testing. Testing. Testing.” I’d already had a field day playing around with the modulation aspect, finding it both intuitive and highly responsive. The skill let me modify more than just my pitch, too, altering my timbre and a host of other vocal qualities that I was sure singers had fancy words for. With a bit of tweaking, I could switch from the husky voice of a woman with a smoking addiction, all the way to the deeper bass of a broad and burly man.
If I instead wanted to go in the opposite direction, the light variant came to the rescue.
Dazzling Tongue
Allows the wearer to obfuscate their voice by pitching it upwards. Passively brightens the user’s teeth. Grants a slight Charisma boost while speaking.
Honestly, I was pretty happy with my voice, but I couldn’t deny that it was fun playing with the two skills. Maybe if I ever got bored with the whole “Protagonist” business, I could try my hand at voice acting for a while. If anyone had managed to invent some sort of recording crystal, audiobooks had to be a thing, right?
Death mana was the second to last, and I had to admit I wouldn’t be using it much. Hopefully. The secondary effects weren’t bad, but if I had to use the primary effect, then I was probably having a pretty bad day.
Nocuous Fangs
Fills the wearer’s teeth with death mana. When biting an enemy, necrosis spreads from any bite wounds. Additionally, sterilizes the inside of the wearer’s mouth, killing off any harmful parasites or microorganisms present in their food and cleaning their teeth.
Admittedly, the skill opened up a lot of new culinary options for me. Even with our high Constitutions, I’d been afraid of trying out any sort of carpaccio or tartare or sushi, not willing to risk food poisoning. I still wouldn’t be serving any of those to Cal or Verin, but I was free to try them out for myself, at least.
While cooking had fast become one of my favorite pastimes in the dungeon, if I did want to get lazy and forgo it, I now had that option, too. The life mana version of Arcane Choker saw to that.
Satiated Stomach
Passively feeds the wearer, filling their stomach with the optimal balance of calories and nutrients to sustain them. Heals all respiratory and digestive wounds, including ulcers, canker sores, and cavities. Greatly aids digestion of all organic materials.
This, too, was one more avenue of dying blocked off. Along with Conjure Water, Satiated Stomach assured that I could no longer die from thirst or starvation. With Cal having some means of surviving without food as well, that left Verin as the sole member of our expedition who needed to eat.
I wonder if Cal has a skill like this. Not that I’d tried particularly hard to extract her secrets, but she’d been dodgy whenever confronted about her immunity to hunger or sleep deprivation.
Regardless, along with Internal Breeze, the life variant of Arcane Choker was likely the one I’d be using the most. I was painfully aware that none of us were getting the proper nutrients we needed, and I could only thank our stats for staving off scurvy or any other number of diseases.
Although, maybe I’ll ask for lemons and limes from Arbor, just in case.
I wouldn’t need to wait long, either. With the forest’s strange distortion magic no longer affecting me, I was able to walk directly to the center of the woods. Just as before, the many sentry golems surrounded the moat leading up to the massive central tree.
Unlike before, none of them tried to kill me as I strolled past them and over the bridge. Even without my blessing from the life nymph, the thick bark of the heart tree parted to admit me, and soon, I stood beneath the wooden heart once again.
“Hi. Wake up please.” When standard words failed, I repeated my earlier trick of connecting with the king’s mind, and in short order, his wooden avatar formed before me.
“Hello. Has it already been a month? It feels like I just fell asleep… Well, no matter. You saw the quest I issued, yes? I’m looking for some stories to trade for my powers. Have you decided what story to tell me and what you’d like to ask for?” The deceptively lifelike elf rubbed at his bleary eyes, despite the fact that those eyes were entirely wooden.
“I know what I want. I have a list of plants we need, and I hit level 20 in Life Magic. I could use new spells.” I had, after all, had an entire month to plan.
As for what I could give to him, I was less certain. What sort of stories did a tree want to hear?
The answer took a good deal of interrogation and back and forth, but eventually we came to an understanding: The king mostly wanted stories that were true. Confined to his forest, he had a desire to better understand the outside world. At the same time, he wasn’t looking for legal treatises or history lessons. He wanted action. Romance. Intrigue.
While I couldn’t offer all of those, I certainly could check some of his boxes.
“All right. What about this? I have a story about a woman from another world, dragged here after being chosen by a god. Good enough?”
From the ground, a chair of roots quickly grew, upon which Arbor sat himself. Flicking a twiggy digit my way, the forest royal hummed out a response.
“Go on.”
----------------------------------------
When Arbor finally stopped me, informing me that I’d said enough to earn my reward, I’d only told him of my time up to meeting Elphaea. Clearly, I would be able to milk my autobiography for many more harvests to come.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Just as planned, the first thing I had him do was teach me new magic. By now, I’d directly learned spells from Elphaea, Xander’Callis, and Sett, making the process entirely commonplace. Arbor placed his hand on my head, his skin impossibly soft considering its wooden makeup, and information pushed its way into my mind and soul all at once.
You have learned a new spell!
…
You have learned a new spell!
Huh. He didn’t tell me he was teaching me two.
A nice bonus, but also not the most important thing I’d come for.
“Thank you. Now on to the plants. I’m thinking olives are really a must, and then I was hoping for some citrus fruits and maybe some tomatoes to start, and then-”
Showing no signs of even hearing my grocery list, the king of the forest swayed in his chair, his eyes losing focus.
“Apologies. I’m finding that teaching two spells at once is a touch more draining than expected. Maybe… next… ti-” The king’s perfect form began to quiver as its constituent roots lost their cohesion.
“NO! ARBOR, NO!” I ran up to his makeshift throne, grabbing his writhing shoulders before thrashing him back and forth. “THE OLIVES, ARBOR!”
Heedless of my pleas, both elf and throne alike fell apart, receding back into the ground.
A full hour later, I dragged my dejected, defeated carcass back to the cabin, the sting of betrayal not having dulled in the least bit.
Verin had definitely noticed my mood the other day when I’d come back from the sea, and I could tell I’d worried both of the others. Trying to avoid a repeat, I did my very best to school my expression when I returned.
It mostly seemed to work, too. When I stepped into the Cabin, Cal was lounging within, flopped out onto one of the cushioned couches I’d built. Given that she did not immediately wince when she saw me, I was clearly doing something right.
“Hey! Tess! Welcome back from the tree guy.” Not bothering to get up, Cal awkwardly twisted her neck and torso to address me. “I know you were trying to get a bunch of stuff, so I can’t really guess what you’re going to make next. What are you thinking of making for tonight?”
At the brutal reminder of my crushing defeat, I couldn’t help it anymore. My mask slipped, and a single, soul-crushing word escaped my lips, devoid of any warmth or joy.
“Leftovers.”
----------------------------------------
Despite the colossal setback fouling my mood for the next few days, life -- as life tended to -- went on.
Whenever I felt pain on the culinary front, I reminded myself that I’d yet to boil down the saltwater I’d collected. Perhaps Arbor’s swift slumber was a harsh reminder from the gods, urging me to master the art of salt before getting ahead of myself.
It helped that I’d yet to inform the others of anything salt related. It was hoping to do a big reveal at some point. I just needed to figure out what dish to do it with.
And as much as I liked to pretend otherwise these days, cooking wasn’t the only thing I had going on. Whenever thoughts of Arbor threatened to leave a scowl on my face, I recalled that I had not walked away from him empty handed.
In fact, if one was being exceptionally, incredibly generous, they could argue that what he’d given me was even more valuable than a month of groceries. After ages of being a third-rate healer with a single weak cantrip, I finally had two new additions to my spell repertoire.
The first was entirely standard, a straight upgrade to my cantrip. I cast in on myself as I brought its description up, enjoying the rejuvenating wave of vitality that swept through me.
Heal (Renamed from The Young Sapling’s Surge of Vitality)
Heal a target within 30 meters for 20 + 2*
Grants +3 Constitution and Endurance for 30 seconds. (Note, this effect does not stack with itself.)
For additional mana, this spell can partially treat a wide variety of ailments, including burns, blood loss, necrosis, and more.
Especially with Cal’s old fake-priestess class no longer boosting her healing, I was glad to have a spell that packed a bit more oomph. Admittedly, I was worried about the ridiculously long, unwieldy name at first, but the system seemed to pick up on my distaste, offering me a prompt to rename the spell. Heal was probably a bit reductive, especially for a Rare spell, but it would do just fine for my tastes.
It was a massive step up from Minor Healing anyway I swung it. Currently, I had a full 38 Intelligence, which meant I could heal for 97hp in a single cast. If Minor Healing was also at level one, it would only manage a comparably pitiful 39hp. That was to say nothing of the increased range and secondary effects.
As much as I appreciated my newly strengthened healing prowess, Heal turned out to be the lesser of the two gifts Arbor had granted me. I wasn’t sure if the great tree had somehow learned of our impending trip to the jungle, or if it was plain dumb luck, but I’d take either way. I cast the second spell on myself as well, feeling as it sank into me to no effect.
Cure (Renamed from A Cleansing Gust of Rich Forest Air)
Attempts to remove negative biological debuffs from the target, with a focus on poisons and diseases. Depending on the number and strength of the debuffs, this spell may only partially cure the target, or may be resisted entirely, with effects scaling with the caster’s Intelligence, Life Magic level, and spell level.
It was hard to imagine a spell that could be more ideal for combatting a poisonous jungle, and after a bit of testing, I’d determined the spell was the real deal, too. I’d heavily ramped up my alchemy after learning it, feeling more comfortable brewing and imbibing stronger poisons with the spell in my pocket.
In general, a single cast was able to fully remove most of the weaker poisons I created from my system, although anything more than that needed multiple casts. I’d yet to encounter a toxin that fully resisted the spell, but then again, I wasn’t working with anything that serious.
I was entirely confident that wouldn’t be the case once we returned to the jungle, so I made leveling the spell a priority. I doubted I’d be able to get it all the way to the Initiate rank by the time we set off, but then again, I wasn’t actually sure how long we had. Now that I’d earned enough points for Arcane Choker, we were waiting on Cal to level, and over dinner, she continued to express frustration over her slow progress.
Which was ridiculous, by most standards. She’d last leveled in the fight with Din’Ket, which was under three months ago. Levels weren’t supposed to come that fast, and anyone back in Sylum would go green with envy if they heard about our leveling speed.
Admittedly, they probably wouldn’t want to trade places with us, all things considered, but still.
Even so, I could tell it grated on Cal that she was keeping us from setting off. Whether that was from pride or wanderlust, I wasn’t sure, but the end effect was the same. Each day, she stayed out longer and longer, on rare occasions even committing the cardinal sin of missing dinner. What she was even doing for all that time, I couldn’t say. After all, the gryphons took a few days to respawn in any case.
And then one day, she just didn’t come back.
Not too concerning in and of itself. She’d gone on multi-day trips plenty of times, although usually she warned us beforehand. But all in all, I wasn’t overly worried. Cal was a big girl. By and large, she could handle herself. Hell, even if I had a few years on her, she probably had her head screwed on tighter than I did. She’d be fine.
I continued to believe that even through the second day, and then the third after that.
Maybe she went exploring or scouting. It’s fine. She doesn’t need to eat, and she can Apex Shroud out of pretty much any attack. She’ll probably return without a scratch or a care in the world and get an earful from Verin about it.
That steadfastly held sentiment only made things all the more shocking when it happened.
It was already an unusual day for me, as I was posted up outside the cabin. While I tended to work in the mountains, my current project required a great deal of wood, which meant I’d dragged a full tree trunk over from the woods. The open space was ideal for processing the giant log into smaller pieces.
The goal was a filter. It was the one contraption I was missing, both to further refine my sugar beet molasses and to remove the worst of the smaller debris from my seawater. Without a blueprint to go off of, I was trying all sorts of random designs, hoping to find one that would work best.
Already, I’d made a few samples by weaving small flexible strips of wood into a grid pattern. Presently, I was working on a more robust version, which I was finding difficult without superglue or anything better than stone nails.
It was about halfway through my prototype that I spotted movement from the corner of my eye. Given the lack of monsters in the prairie, it came as no surprise when it turned out to be Cal.
What was a surprise was the state of her.
Everywhere the eye could see, wounds dotted her body, no two exactly alike. Where some of them were only bruises, and others had scabbed over, just as many were still open, actively leaking blood. Gashes and gouges had been torn from leather, cloth, and flesh alike, turning the regal princess into a tattered mound of dirt and dried blood.
I was at her side in a flash, all thoughts of woodwork completely abandoned. Even before I reached her, threads of mana erupted from my core, spinning into the proper shape.
You have cast Heal on Calilah!
Heal has been partially resisted! Secondary effects negated.
You have healed Calilah for 2hp.
When the hell has my healing ever been resisted? Frantically, I started casting again, determined to undo all the damage she’d suffered, two points at a time if I had to.
Before I could finish the spell, Cal waved me away, making me wonder if she’d damaged her brain as well.
“Stop. Stop. Don’t heal. Need to train. Recovery. And resistances.” Each syllable seemed to take a year off her life, and now that she’d stopped, she swayed on her feet, the last of her steam abandoning her.
This goes past resistance training! I hastily identified her to check her health.
Calilah: Level 18 Indefatigable Onslaught, 42/350hp, 1067 Prestige
Still some time, then. I continued to activate God’s Eye over and over again to try to get a handle on how quickly she was bleeding out.
It was with mounting disbelief, then, when I saw her health change a few seconds later.
Calilah… 43/350hp
Somehow, through all the bleeding, through the myriad of wounds on every inch of her, Cal was actively healing.
And that wasn’t the only item of note in her status, either. Wasn’t she level 17 yesterday? The detail felt insignificant in light of her current state, but I caught myself mumbling it out nonetheless.
“You leveled?”
My words brought on a wet, choking laugh, and Cal summoned the last of her strength to thrust a single fist into the sky.
“Victory!”
Having said her piece, Cal collapsed into my arms, promptly passing out.