Chapter 24: Revenge

“So you have the lion’s head and the goat’s fur, but the snake tail escaped after you cut it off from the main body,” Purple summarises, her eyebrows scrounged in confusion.

“Yes,” I confirm, not looking at her face, too afraid that she won’t give the antipoison.

“So you failed to kill the chimera?”

I still don’t look at her, instead staring at the ground which shifts between colours while my eyes still hurt from the smoke. My resources have begun to recover but I still feel sick, tired even. Is this the aftereffect of my crown of leaves getting damaged? In the end, it wasn’t that big of a punishment, the resource point that were deducted being from the resource cap and not the actual resource. I’m still not up to strength, with the current deduction sitting at minus eight per cent.

“But you did kill the other two parts,” she talks to herself.

I clench my hands, wincing at the pain as wounds open and my sap bleeds out of the tears again.

“You can say that you failed to slay it,” she says, “On the other hand, you killed two of three parts. I’ll give you two-thirds of the potion. Does that seem fair?”

I turn towards her, surprise written on my face.

She waves me away as she pulls out the antipoison and an empty vial out of her tree hollow. She carefully pours the potion into the other bottle and continues to measure until two-thirds remain in the original bottle.

She hands the bottle to me and I stare at it, “Now that I think about it, how do you actually have all that stuff? Isn’t it really expensive?” I ask while looking at the liquid that glows with magic.

“It is,” Purple confirms. “It cost me an arm and a leg to buy but an antipoison always comes in use.”

“From who did you buy it?” I also want to have potions like this. Just imagine having a health potion at home that can regrow a limb or two.

She shrugs, “Sometimes a dryad or a forest dweller from one of the cities in the inner forest comes to the outskirts to trade with everyone.”

My face knits into a frown. Then why did Sairal say that he always needed to prepare everything himself?

“Anyway…” Purple trails off, verbally kicking me out of her home.

I look around her tree, “One last question?”

She rolls her eyes, “Fine.”

“Why didn’t the chimera use fire when it attacked you two? It set the whole forest aflame when I fought it.”

Purple nods, “Because dryads always have protections in place. I had a charm that protected everything against fire so it just decided to brute force its way through everything.”

She shoos me off with the warning that the sun will be setting soon.

I wave her goodbye and make my way home. Everything just feels so weird about this. How did the snake survive? And why did I get a kill notification for the goat part?

I shake my head and pull up all the notifications that have been pinging in the back of my mind. I skip the kill notification, having looked over them several times already.

*Congratulations. You have gained a level. You are now level 9.

+6 HP +3 SP +1 Strength +2 Constitution +3 Unallocated stat points.

*Roots of Nature (R) lvl 5/20 -> Roots of Nature (R) 6/20.

*Claw Slash (B) lvl 13/20 -> Claw Slash (B) 18/20.

*Hide (B) lvl 2/20 -> Hide (B) lvl 6/20.

*Fire Resistance (B) lvl 4/20 -> Fire Resistance lvl 10/20.

The risk came with rewards. Just two more levels in Claw Slash and I can use my first skill point. Maybe I can even upgrade the skill like Sairal said.

But this isn’t enough. I need more strength. Even (E) grades can get hurt.

I stare at the sun that is falling to the horizon and I hurry up to get back to my tree.

***

Trees thin around her. Finally after days, of fighting she managed to flee from that golden dryad. The moving plant was always behind her, harrying her with spears, arrows, any weapon she could think of. That was until Iveihla got the chance to plunge her blade into that sweet, gold-tinted flesh.

Iveihla loved it; watching her face twist into agony as she pushed fire into her sword. She loved watching it spread like venom. But what she loved most was the notification.

But she didn’t get that.

Somehow, by a twist of fate, the dryad managed to pull the blade out of her as her insides were turning to ash. And like a dog with its tail between its legs, the damned weed fled.

Dead tired, the stumbles past the border of Luxia, letting her sword cut through one of the smaller trees in a spurt of anger before depositing it back into her scabbard.

A scorpion, at the bottom of (I) grade, readies its stinger at her. The pathetic monster lunges forwards, stinger clanging against the metal of her boot.

Her eyes settle on it. One hand automatically reaches for the sword on her hip. She grasps around the all too familiar hilt. Iveihla almost pulls the sword out of the sheath but thinks better of it at the last moment.

She wouldn’t sully her blade with such a weak monster. Instead, she stomps on the scorpion, letting a bit of the built-up rage dissipate with it.

With an audible squelch, the scorpion explodes in a gory mess. A few drops of the gore splattering on her cheek. She doesn’t wipe it away, thinking that it completes the look. Also, it wouldn’t do much with all her clothes soaked with the dryad’s blood and the insides of any monster that got in her way.

She will clean it up later, but now it’s useful. People cater much more to your whims when the armour you wear is drenched in the blood of the enemy and smell like the death you brought to them.

Head held up high, she strolls into camp. The sentries who try to stop her as she walks past the defence line are silenced with a single look.

The mood in the camp is sombre. Dozens of bodies, covered with white sheets lay out in the open. Screams and whimper echo from the few buildings that have been erected in the camp.

It doesn’t bother her. Those people would have been in her way sooner than later. After all, with fewer people, there are more monsters around. The only downside to it is that the general will keep a tighter leash on all the soldiers.

Guards patrol the streets of the encampment. Everyone knows that dryads will never leave the forest. At least that is what everybody believes.

Iveihla doesn’t.

Foolishness will get you killed, she repeats the words that her grandma always used to say. More than once it has proven right. But in the end, she didn’t take that advice to heart.

That’s right. She had been foolish.

Her hand reached up to her face, her fingers tracing the grooves the mandrake cut into her face. Her middle finger stops on her lower lip. The wounds have healed but ugly scars remain. Her lip is a twisted mess that makes her look like she is sneering perpetually.

The group of guards give her a wide berth, growing even wider as she stares at them.

Iveihla walks towards the command centre: A white tent in the ocean of grey. She crosses her fingers and sends the gods a prayer that the general died when the dryads broke up the army. It would make her life so much easier if she didn’t have to follow that loon elected by the church into battle.

Then again, if the general lives, she can play into his beliefs, twist it all in ways that suit her needs.

It won’t matter soon anyway. After she gives them that arm, they will reward her with anything her heart desires. The first thing she will ask for is a promotion.

Iveihla muses on it as she gets closer to the tent. She will choose something more dangerous for certain and somewhere where she can lead a small group into battle. Maybe get a delving team supported by the army?

She continues to muse on options while in the background her ears still ring from the scream that monster produced. She feels the phantom pain of the monster's claw scraping the skin of her face.

Scratch entering the Depths. First, she needs to get her revenge.

Unannounced she enters the command centre. The general and his underlings don’t notice her. They keep bickering as each of them points at a specific point on the map that is spread out on the table. Pawns are placed on it, showing how the war effort is going.

She listens intently to anything they say. “We had to move up the timetable thanks to the appearance of that mandrake, but the ruse has worked. The inner forest and many of their cities have been damaged thanks to all the attacks. However, we have suffered immense casualties. A third of the army has perished in the inner forest. Has the Plateau responded yet?”

An underling shakes his head, “The line is quiet. They may have left us alone in this war, sir.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Impossible! They-”

Iveihla clears her throat, drawing their attention. Most of them turn around in surprise. Their eyes are drawn to the blotch of blue scorpion blood that mars her cheek. She suppresses a grin and makes a mental note to repeat this tactic more often.

She clears her throat once more before speaking, “Iveihla, fifth rank member of the Luxia secondary attack force reporting.” Unceremoniously, she unwraps the arm of the mandrake and throws it onto the table. All the pawns that resemble the stationed soldiers tumble over then the arm impacts the table. In the corner of a room, she hears an intern groan, sighing as he prepares himself to reset all the pawns to the correct position.

Iveihla recounts her tale from them, only twisting the truth slightly when necessary.

Then after playing them like a fiddle, she slips in one fact with the decorum of a grand fireball, “On a last note, I have reasons to expect that the mandrake is abnormal. I think that it's a demon.” She smiles as the general begins to curse all the dryads in existence and their god. Her smile broadens as this sparks another round of discussion, fanning the flames of war.

The general turns back to her, “Elaborate, soldier.” He tests the waters before committing.

Having organised her thoughts, she gives a strict nod, “Mandrakes are peaceful monsters that run away and cry when cornered. Outside of a rare few subspecies, they don’t have any offensive capabilities,” Iveihla points to the three scars that run over her face like ravines, “Does this seem to align with the standard mandrake behaviour? Do you think any ordinary mandrake can do this?

“It hurt me. It's a demon,” she finishes.

The general shakes his head in disbelief, “We all knew that those dryads of the lower races are unworthy of the land they possess, but now they also pull our faith into question? This can’t be allowed to happen!” he raises his voice, hand in front of his chest, touching the dragonfly emblem.

Iveihla nods, already calculating how she can milk out every advantage. It clicks in her mind and for the first time in five days, she smiles. “That mandrake already was one of our major targets when discovered. With it possibly being a demon, shouldn’t we make it a prime target?”

She continues, “Who knows what a second-lifer that has not only reincarnated as a monster but also a rare valuable monster, has done in its previous life?” She lets that sink in, “General, I am the only one who has encountered the mandrake, I suggest that I will form a special strike force with my fellow soldiers to hunt it down.”

The general bobs his head up and down, fast enough that man might have gained whiplash from it. “Soldier, you are right. You will have access to all our resources in addition to the elixirs I will reward you with for bringing that mandrake’s arm to us. The royal family will also smile kindly upon you.”

And there it is. Her goal. Her desire. Her path to power.

She smiles as she continues to talk with the general about creating a small party with her at the helm to take down that mandrake.

“Additionally, the church of Zulis will send more forces now that the existence of one, if not possibly more, demons might be in the accursed forest,” the general says after having reached certain arrangements with Iveihla.

Mandrake, I’ve just made your life far more difficult. And this is just the beginning of what I’m going to do.

Her smile only grows as she sees the general create a team just for her. She can now go rampant in the forest, killing any and all monsters for experience, claiming that they too could be demons. And it will bring her to her revenge, her sweet, sweet revenge.

***

The sun is setting when I enter the clearing around the lake. Ragged breaths push themselves past my lips. A bush gets in my way and I trip, almost spilling the potion.

Without dallying, I move towards Sairal’s dryad heart. Most leaves are gone, laying on the ground, rotting. The moss below it is a swampy mess of black water that smells like death and decaying mushrooms.

Branches lay all around the tree, rotten off. A sickly scent of death and rot wafts off them. The mushroom guardians that looked agitated before, now look murderous.

I make my way to them, making sure that they see me approaching. I show them the potion and make a pouring motion. I have to repeat it a few more times before they understand.

They let me through and I step onto the moss that once used to be as soft as a pillow. My feet slowly sink into it like quicksand. I pull my leg out of it and continue deeper in. Around me, the vibrant mushrooms have dimmed like fading embers showing that whatever has been going on is far worse than I thought.

I lower at the base of the tree, the bark letting loose, revealing the vulnerable insides of the tree. The smell grows more pungent, wafting through the cracks in the bark.

Can two-thirds of a potion even cure something as bad as this?

I pull off the stopper and a sweet aroma that purifies the air spills out. I put one hand on the slippery bark, begging that this is enough.

“Sairal, I hope this helps you with whatever is happening. Come back soon, it is kind of lonely without you,” I say and empty the contents unceremoniously.

My eyes travel up to the sun that has already fallen beyond the horizon. I’m forced to head home, roots continuing to ache all the while. I pack dirt into the entrance and collapse on the moss bed, groaning as the holes in my back complain with new aches that make themselves clear in my mind now that I can finally rest. I’ve done all I can, it’s up to luck now if that potion is enough.

I keep tossing and turning for a while but in the end, exhausting claims me.

***

An angry roar rouses me from my sleep. My eyes lazily drift to the entrance, my body still aching with pain. Seeing no reptilian eyes or any other monster peeking in, I return to my sleep.

The monster roars indignantly again but this time it's cut off.

Silence returns.

***

The first sound that escapes me is a groan when I wake up. Everything hurts more than before. Body aching, I rise from my bed and stare at the entrance.

The sun seems the be far up in the sky already.

I look over my body, checking over my wounds that haven’t recovered much. Even with my Fire Resistance, it seems that I’m still susceptible to it. Luckily, wounds that haven’t been caused by fire, have started to heal. The tears in them are smaller but I’m painfully aware that with a single use of Claw Slash everything will tear open again, probably worse than before.

I stretch the aches out of my roots, wincing as I hear them creak and pop like joints. The holes in my back are a dull pain of absence and a constant wrongness that presses into my mind.

My eyes drift to the rays of sunlight that fall into my home. My mind grows more clear and I think of the potion I poured on the base of Sairal’s tree.

Sairal’s tree…

I dig out the entrance as fast as I can, forced to slow down as wounds begin to open again.

Far too late, I’m stumbling through the forest, the world once again swimming all around me. I burst into the clearing and turn towards his tree, begging that it still is standing.

Another branch, rotten off, lays at the base of the tree. My knees grow weak and I collapse on the ground. I almost died for a potion that did nothing.

Mandrake Screech begins to build up in my throat and tears well up in my eyes. I want to let it burst out; show the world how this hurts me. Make them understand that this isn’t fair at all.

A mushroom guardian pats me on the shoulder with a bloody hand. I turn to it and it gives me a…nod?

The second one just shrugs and they continue to move towards the tree, pulling along the mangled corpse of a goat that escaped out of a horror movie.

I follow them, greedily taking in everything to distract me just one more moment from my failure.

Just before the two reach the carpet of rotting moss, they stop. Together they rip the fur off the corpse and zip it open. The slightly larger mushroom guardian sticks his hand inside it, fishes out one of the organs and begins to chew on them, mouth open.

Horrified I look at them, bloody hands reaching into the corpse for more.

I turn away from the carnage, finding my eyes always drifting towards the tree. The cracks in the bark are smaller than yesterday. I get closer and look upwards. Some of the branches are still rotting, flies loudly buzzing around them. There are, however, a few branches where the bark seems to be pulling together, fighting whatever is going on. On one or two twigs I see that new leaves are beginning to grow, budding as if it’s spring.

Not for nothing then.

I can’t do anything more. There is no way I can track that snake, and there are no other potions to throw at the problem. So I take place in the sun a bit before the tree.

The crown of leaves on my head, still slightly dour from all the smoke and heat, unfurls. They greedily take in the sun’s energy, boosting my regeneration.

I’m level 9 now. Just one more level and I can evolve again. I can just hunt some easy things for the next weak, slowly building up experience for that final level.

Maybe I can even reach it if I just keep photosynthesising.

Surely enough, I must have unlocked some good evolutions. I don’t see any mandrake taking down that Chimera. Maybe not even most monsters of my grade. I also possibly saved a friend and explored the depths.

I must have racked up enough feats for something good. I can just take it easy for a bit.

***

*Photosynthesis (C) lvl 14/20 -> Photosynthesis (C) lvl 15/20.

I stretch out in the sun, enjoying a pain-free body. It took the rest of the day and night for everything to regenerate, but now I’m back to a full resource pool and a fully regenerated body. Even my crown of leaves has regenerated, removing the percentage-based deduction of my stats and resources.

I turn towards Sairal’s tree, watching it slowly heal. Yesterday more branches rotted off but it began to grow new branches and more leaves. I don’t know if that is all thanks to the potion or if it just boosted the recovery process that already was going on, but I like to think that I helped.

With two topped resource pools, I move out of the clearing and wander through the forest. I still want to take it easy for a few more days, but there are also evil snails and Cave crawlers that need to be killed.

I mainly stick to the sun, having figured that the army is far, far away from my current position as I look at the trails of smoke that drift up to the sky from the camp.

There are plenty of (I) grades around, showing that the forest is bouncing right back faster than anyone from Earth could have believed. The monsters in my grade remain scarce.

The foolish thought of entering one of the caves to get that last level bubbles up in me. I squash it as quickly as it came. I barely have recovered from the fight with the Chimera, not even having gone over the skills that I’ve unlocked. Now is not the time to fling myself into a fight for life and death again.

Maybe I should check on those new skill unlocks now?

*Congratulations. Thanks to your feats you have unlocked the skill Sneaking (O).

…That’s it?

During all that I just unlocked a single skill that isn’t worth anything?

***

During the day I spot a few groups of those Segriad snails that are chewing on the bark of trees or bushes. I make quick work of them, not even using any skills. I also encountered a Cave crawler scout that was at the bottom of my grade.

The stupid monster tried to bite my face off, so I chopped off its front legs and took it apart.

I stare at the sun and pat myself on the shoulder for a job well done. There are a few hours of light left, though, I want to reward myself with relaxing a bit in the sun.

While whistling a tune of some song I can’t remember the name of, I encounter one of those weird robot things that floats in the air.

I keep staring at the orb as it just scans plants around it with its eye. After it scanned something it makes a beeping noise of displeasure and moves on. I crouch down behind a tree, skills firing up and wait for the perfect moment.

After it scans one more plant and lets out an unsatisfied beep, I burst out from behind the tree and sprint towards it before the construct can power up its laser beam.

It only notices me when I stuff one of my claws into the seams between the metal plates.

Startled, it beeps and lifts up higher in the air, whirling around like a disco ball as it tries to throw me off.

My claws dig deeper into the construct, pushing metal away as I tore into the delicate wiring, killing it.

To my displeasure, I don’t receive a level.

I stare at the construct. These things aren’t normal, so maybe I should show one to a dryad? I can’t take it home. For all I know this thing has a tracker built into it.

Instead, I stuff it into another root cellar I found a while ago.

The rest of the day I just enjoy the sun, and end up getting another level of Photosynthesis.

I need just one more level. That will bring me one step close to making sure that the batshit crazy woman will never be able to cut off one of my limbs. I don’t think for a second that the golden dryad took care of her.

In stories like these and worlds like the one I now live in, enemies like her always survive. She isn't dead until I see her corpse. The same goes for that wolf-blooded alligator.