Chapter 322
Roar of a King (V)
Five silhouettes walked through the open plain without seemingly a care in the world, though only for a little while. The closer to the valley that was sandwiched between two ever-looming peaks they got, the more gingerly their footsteps became.
Mana around the mountains grew heavier and more oppressive, almost akin to someone climbing a mountain where atmospheric pressure grew heavier itself, though on a much more primal scale. They felt it in their bones, since the drag of having to move Mana around became even harder.
The lushness of life, too, grew thinner, the grass itself seeming to bend away from the mountains like a sea of scared kittens. Cain still stuck to the rear, suddenly letting the Mana outflow from him, cradling the other four. They looked back at him in shock and then smiled in gratitude, realizing that his Mana was actually thicker than the pressure, allowing them to breathe freely once again.
The group made it to the valley’s entrance, a jungle-like sprawl of strange, eerie trees whose branches were more akin to vines, bending and entwining everywhere. Light could hardly pierce through the thickness, leaving the wet rock to fester fungi that were draped in a vast range of colors.
Cain moved forward to the group’s front, cutting through the troves of ‘vines’, slowly opening up a gate. Crossing through, he alighted the surroundings with a simple ball of Mana, letting them see the winding corridor that led further into the valley.
Jagged, sharp rocks protruded from the edges, with a curious, strange growths slouching about everywhere--from a five-feet-tall, pear-shaped flower, to a foot-tall tree... that was about twenty times wider than its height. The growths were everywhere, but Cain hardly paid attention to them, his focus on the front, beyond the corridor, and onto the depths of the valley itself.
“Hey, isn’t that flagger?” Quinn suddenly asked as the group paused, causing even Cain to look back and see what she was pointing at. It was a cactus-like plant, oval-shaped, red, with sharp-seeming, thick, and fairly long thorns protruding from its surface.
“You’re right,” either Harmony or Nature replied. “What’s it doing here? No, in the first place, doesn’t flagger only grow on the sunny side of a mountain?”
“That’s trigol,” either Nature or Harmony said suddenly, pointing at a curled weave of a plant. “Doesn’t it only grow in swamps?” that wasn’t the end of it, however. Cain suddenly began to hear more and more names he’d never heard before--kanijak, jagola, jabuna, otah... and all seemed like the kinds of plants and trees that grew in specific locations, within specific environment, and bound to specific climate.
And yet, all of them grew here, in the damp, dark, buried part of the world. Cain quickly realized it was like walking through a worldly garden, a museum, really, of the cosmic flora that sported unmatched collection. He suspected that, beyond what they could see, there was likely a myriad of other plants and trees and fruits and vegetables.
He didn’t have to wait too long for his suspicions to be confirmed--as soon as they stepped out of the long, dark corridor and into the open valley, a strong smell belted their senses, causing even Cain to gag for a moment. It smelled nice, but it also felt like spraying a whole bottle of perfume directly into one’s nose.
“Gah, what’s this?!” Lear coughed violently for a few moments before managing to adjust to the overwhelming scent.
“A garden,” Cain replied, frowning. The valley was not natural, that much was evident from a glance--its two sides were like akin to a stadium’s seating, layered evenly in a symmetrical fashion. The center was, not unlike the corridor, clogged by trees and bushes and flowers and plants, each stranger than the last.
The four behind him gasped in shock when they looked around, their attentions immediately drawn to the more unusual suspects in the crowd, one of them being a massive tree that seemed like a centerfold in the open valley. It was a dragon tree sporting a palm-like canopy of long, pointed leaves on stems that stuck out from its enormous trunk.
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Unlike the dragon tree of the Earth, however, its leaves were not green but crimson red, its branches not brown but pointed silver, and its height not relatively normal, but piercing a good mile into the sky. It loomed over most of the rest of the valley like its spearheaded guardian, casting shadow and creating protective shade, it almost felt like.
It wasn’t alone, however, in the valiant effort; sitting next to it was a weeping willow, though its leaves were not spirally arranged, narrow, and light green. Instead they cascaded in a blooming pattern, were extremely wide and thick, and were dyed in moonlight blue. Though not as tall as the dragon’s tree, it still stood some tree hundred feet large, a mosaic of beauty transpiring across its countless strands of leaves.
“What the hell...” Quinn mumbled in shock. “None of this makes any sense. It’s impossible for these things to be growing together. Shit, half of them only grow underwater. See that sea of violet over there?” she pointed to a small patch of strange-looking grass. “Those are algae for crying out loud!” Oh, so that’s why they’re strange... “And that flower?” she pointed at an innately strange-looking flower reminiscent of the Earth’s swaddled baby. Though this one was larger and had a ‘crown’ on top. “It literally cannot grow outside a volcano. That’s right--it feeds on lava! So, what the hell is it doing here?!!”
“How the hell would I know?” Cain shrugged, though was shocked himself. Not so much at the garden, but that there was a flower that fed on lava. What the fuck, he thought, she’s making that shit up, right?
“What should we do? I have a feeling we should just... get out,” Lear suggested, and others didn’t seem all that averse to the idea.
“It’s fine,” Cain smiled. “We can just wait for the host to show up.”
“A host?”
“Ho ho ho, I’ve been seen through?” a strange, queer voice broke out, startling the four who all readied themselves for a battle, though Cain remained calm, even smiling further to the small patch of land that was strangely void of flowers and plants and trees in front of them. The dirt began to dance for a moment before a tiny head peaked out and the body soon followed.
It was a gnome-like creature, not even three feet tall, yet draped in a dashing, black suit, sporting a top hat. It felt almost cliche-like, Cain mused, though its pair of extremely large, sapphire-blue eyes stood out against the rest. They shone like gems, a world reflected in them.
“W-w-what the fuck is that?!” Lear cried out.
“How rude,” the tiny little thing said. “Yours truly is not that. I am Sir Ver Danee Sor Be’themen Siddienee the Eight, the successor of the Empyrean, Guardian of Cosmic Canopy! But you can call me Danny.”
“...”
“...”
“So, Danny, what’s with the strange Mana?” even Cain, despite the surface-level confidence, was hardly expecting the current set of events. He fully went into the battle expecting a fight--it was unlikely one was to be had, however.
“Keeps the beasts and creatures convicted of ignorance away, aye, aye,” ‘Danny’ floated up suddenly, ‘standing’ in midair as he talked. “Only the proper and dapper and dashing are allowed in my Garden, aye, aye. Not the vile droolers of apathy who would devour my children as their morning meal, no sir! Might I ask, however, who are you, Sirs? For see, I have not had a visitor in many a cycle! This world, though it saddens and brings a tear to me eye, is an abandoned corner, ‘m afraid.”
“Just Conquerors on an adventure, I guess,” Cain replied.
“Conquerors? Ah! No wonder I smelt the scent of chameen from you,” he said, his thin lips broadening into a smile. “Welcome, aye, aye!”
“What exactly is this place?” Cain pondered curiously.
“’tis a museum, my good sir!” he replied. “Empyrean! A cosmic garden, a collection of the beautiful and breathtaking, aye, aye!”
“... it is beautiful,” Cain said. “Overwhelming, but beautiful.”
“Many thanks, good sir,” the tiny gnome, Danny, said. “It is a lot of work to maintain the Garden. Your words are much appreciated. That said, as you sirs and ladies are Conquerors, no doubt you seek trials to empower thineselves, aye?”
“Aye,” Cain chuckled.
“Aye! ‘tis a trial you seek, and ‘tis a trial you have found, ladies and gentlemen!”
“What kind of a trial?” Cain quizzed.
“A good kind, sir!” the gnome chuckle. “See, I only seek to have some fun and entertain myself, as guests nary come by no more. So, win or lose, I shall leave you with an award or two. But I shan’t go easy on you! Good rewards ought to be fought for, think not so, ladies and sirs?”
“Sure, sure. So, what are we supposed to do?”
“’tis but a simple trial--I shall present you with some of my collection here, and you tell me as much as you can about it! You need not know the name, but use thine eyes and thine lips and thine noses and ears to discern as much as you can ‘bout it, aye, aye! I shall present you with a hundred! I trust that ladies and sirs shall trust me with the judgment over how to award you points, aye?”
“Aye,” Cain chuckled once again. “I guess I’ll be plenty useless here. It’s your time to shine, ladies and sirs!”
“Oh, shut up,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “You’re just looking for an excuse to laze around. I’m onto you.”
“Worry not, good sir!” the gnome said. “Guess with your heart! Be free!”
“Aye, aye,” Cain sighed.
“Ah, before you do, however--I must be a proper host, ‘m afraid. I shall rightly prepare a feast for you--rest and recover and meditate. We shall begin when you are ready, aye, aye!”