Chapter 22

[Snake report]

Time has passed.

The days are starting to blur a bit.

I think it’s been about a month since someone last declared war on me. Which, I guess in context to the severity of such an act, might be a really long time to go without some sort of follow up.

No signs of any approaching armies have been found.

I mean, they tried.

They repeated a pretty much perfect replica of their first miserable attempt to take this place. And it went exactly how you would expect it to go.

We broke all their stuff and they had to walk or limp home.

Then, they did it again.

And again.

Then, one more time. Kinda sorta.

Since that last one, though...

Well, there's been a whole lot of nothing, so I guess I'm in the clear for now.

I was almost looking forward to the invasions, if only so I could have something exciting to do.

Time has been flying, and things have been getting really weird around here.

Weirder.

I’ll be honest when I say that nothing in this entire world has ever seemed completely normal, but recent developments should probably not be understated.

No one steals from-

Shush, you.

Where was I?

Weird?

Right.

When the Golem posse and I dealt with the Empire trying to take our turf, I didn’t fully consider the consequences.

Of course, I knew there would be some.

I’m not that naive.

Chances were good that the Empire wasn’t going to just head home and accept “I guess that’s off-limits or whatever."

There was no apology letter, or fruit basket.

The Empire hasn’t really projected that sort of vibe.

None of that.

So far as impressions go, they seem more like the lawful-evil type, which I suppose that represents most any government I've ever seen. But they're like the lawful-evil that actually follows up on statements they make with annoying persistence.

I just didn’t realize how grossly unprepared they were going to be.

It’s like... well, I've been expecting this terrifying [Big Bad] of epic proportions, and instead they're just sending a bunch of amateurs.

They could do better.

All I'm saying.

I’ve seen what humans are capable of, plenty of times. They've got the resources to have soldiers dropping down from ships, Legions marching through the streets, people swinging swords that cut the laws of reality as easily as their intended targets.

They literally have fantasy-style stormtroopers. Only, I'm pretty sure those guys aren't cannon fodder, and could hit whatever they're aiming at.

Lucky for me, none of that stuff has not been replicated.

At all.

Not even after all the shouting about the “Empire this,” and “the Emperor that.”

Blah blah blah... whatever that noble-looking fellow was yelling.

Weeks on end, I kept expecting this whole ordeal to turn into some messed up version of the Alamo. Some worst-case scenario, where despite my best efforts, fighting the good fight, I’d have give up and slither off into the Dungeon, back to being a paranoid lunatic and eating mushrooms for a few years.

I spent more than a few days watching the skies, looking for where the Empire would inevitably call in fantasy-era tactical air-strike.

And... nada.

Because, they fear you, Great One! no a soul alive would dare to steal from-

Shush, you.

Yes, Great One.

Sss…

There he goes again.

It’s like he’s finally woken back up, or something. Been getting noisy.

As a result, I haven’t been sleeping much.

I’ve been keeping busy. I expected all hell to break loose, so I was burning mana away, day-in, day out. Gorf did a real number on the mana crystals left-over from before, but I’ve probably made a dent in those myself, at this point.

Munching on those suckers like tortilla chips.

Now I'm wondering if that was all for nothing.

Between the Humans, the Dungeon…

I’m a little on edge, trying to get ahead of whatever horrible thing is probably being cooked up.

Because, it’s coming.

When I least expect it, probably.

I know it.

Can’t fool me that easily. No way, no how.

The beehive of random activity that stirred up from my polite rebuttal of the Empire’s claim to my property was a big fuss. With their numerous attempts to come back here and oust me, poorly executed as those attempts happened to be, I've had my guard up.

But these past few weeks, I’m not entirely convinced that they remember I'm here.

I’m serious.

You’d almost think they’ve forgotten about me.

Not to say that Rocky and Gorf didn't set some records in Wagon throwing contests- because they have. And, I’m not even going to try denying my part in (even by my lowest estimates) hilariously severe amounts of property damage.

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I don't even want to know the numbers I've cost them.

But now, it really seems as though they have bigger fish to fry all of a sudden.

The last time they attacked. That loud noble-looking fellow and some folks in robes tried to bombard me with arrows and magic. To which, I had Gorf throw heavy things at them.

In rebuttal, of course.

After that, they… gave up?

Opted for a temporary recess in the campaign?

It was a smart choice on their part. I’d really prefer not to have to scrape what’s left of some stupid noble off of my pet rocks.

But it’s still weird.

I mean, there's a game to be played here. At this point, that's pretty much what it's been boiling down to.

They show up, fail to achieve anything, and we get to test their armor's fire-resistances and see how far we can throw their expensive toys.

Leaving before all that plays itself out is a bit odd.

Assumptions are being made here. It’s not like they met me in a white tent for peace talks and treaty agreements, or anything. But, I’m reasonably sure they’re calling it quits.

And I guess that’s just the trouble.

No more people are currently being stupid enough to come over towards the Dungeon.

Which is good.

This is a good thing.

I like that.

I’m okay with that.

But, just because they’re not approaching me-

OH? You’re Approaching Me-

Shush, you.

How the hell do you even…

Nevermind. I don’t want to know.

As I was trying to say: Just because they’re not approaching me-

…

-Doesn’t mean there aren’t a heck of a lot of humans around.

…

It’s just suspicious.

Also, coincidentally, almost exactly in line with the last pitiful attempt to invade the unrecognized, neutral, mostly peaceful, nation of the Tiny Snake God: the humans that aren't attacking us have been behaving differently.

Mostly in that the number of Caravans have been increasing. In frequency and size.

I’ve seen a lot of traders, but also some sort of organized military. Same kind of fancy wagons that Gorf has been happy to kick for field-goals, only they've been rumbling by on the roads in huge numbers. All headed somewhere in a real hurry.

East to west, west to east: there are a LOT of people about. It doesn’t take a very observant eye to know that traffic is way up.

And, I don’t know why.

Which bothers me.

Humans declaring war on me? That’s “OK.” Not really my first rodeo. I get it.

But, this is just strange.

Today I’m counting at least eight caravans so far. Big ones, at that, and those don’t even account for the traffic at a higher altitude. There were a bunch of ships earlier, and I think they’re travelling on some sort of circuit, to and from the City.

Cargo routes, I’m assuming.

So, clearly, something has happened.

It’s probably going to be terrible.

I’m probably going to really, really hate whatever it happens to be.

Sss… yes.

That’s pretty much all I have to say about it.

I’m not curious?

No.

No, I’m not really.

Not unless I get some clearer hints.

I’ve reached the point in my reincarnated life, where “I’ll deal with the problems as they wander in” is becoming a core part of my identity.

I have no motivation to research and find out ahead of time.

Without a single doubt, whatever it is will find me.

Any day, now.

Any day.

So, there’s no rush.

Just gotta keep my guard up.

Humans can deal with whatever it is in the meantime. Them, their Emperor, their giant fleet of flying boats.

Humans can go do human things, in human places.

And while they do that, I’ll be here. Ignoring them as best I can, watering my tree, keeping my pet rocks happy, improving my dungeon entrance, and hoping everyone else goes away forever.

A perfectly acceptable choice for someone in my position.

Perfectly reasonable.

Plus, according to the limited information I’m permitted to see, [Voice of Gaia] seems to indicate that I’m literally some sort of God now. [Lesser] or otherwise, leaving the humans to deal with whatever is going wrong and providing no assistance whatsoever is absolutely par the course for a God.

I mean, that’s what they do.

Here I slither, far out of reach of the mere mortals. Forming a pantheon atop a glorious mountain filled with gold, and jewels, and treasure, or whatever.

Yeah.

While I might not have one of those yet, I do have a reverse mountain, and it's filled with all sorts of stuff I've been keeping as war trophies.

When people flee me in terror, they tend to drop stuff. And if it's shiney, Gorf tends to pick it up and bring it home.

And while I might not have a mountain that pierces the sky, I do have an inverted mountain.

This weird hole in the ground.

Instead of holy relics, it’s filled with evil.

And it hates me.

I’m making it work.

The sweet loot helps.

There’s been all sorts of stuff I’ve managed to find scattered about the area. Those war-wagons might make for fun bonfires, but they’re not always empty, and I’ve been having Gorf do some heavy lifting to bring their remaining cargo down the stairs a bit.

I carved out a storage room for them.

Like a pantry.

Exactly like a pantry.

Only instead of stale pop-tarts and canned tuna, it’s filled with stolen weapons of war.

I think it’s nice.

I have no idea what I’m going to do with these things. Swords and spears and bows are all great, but I still don’t have hands.

If I wanted to use them I’d need to make some sort of [Tiny Snake Gundam] or something.

Which…

Okay, I have thought about it.

You know, just the concept.

I’m already getting off-topic. That’s besides the point, I’ve actually been too busy to bother myself with contemplating experiments like that.

Beneath your will, they will tremble in fear. Cower, at the sight of you! As you-

Shush. Put a lid on it already.

Long and short of it, is even though the humans have backed off, the Dungeon seems to be turning into a little bit of a problem

I had thought, mistakenly, that I’d gotten through the worst of what it had to offer. What, after burninating the countryside and that huge pack of monsters that tried to crawl out of the ground. I had safely managed camping out here without too much fuss, and I figured that the Dungeon had swung all of its punches early.

Like a boxer who starts off too aggressive, aiming for a quick victory: I hoped team Gaia had run out of steam.

For a little while, it really did seem that way, too.

With the main room beneath the initial entry stairs, I’ve worked the stone to the point where I’m now seeing an ambient glow in the walls. An ever-present night-light sort of effect which, basically, states that I own this area. This is [Holy Ground] of the Tiny Snake.

Claimed territory, all that.

As long as I keep persistently casting spells on it every so often, I don’t think that’s going to change, but…

The past couple of days, the rest of the Dungeon has been acting up.

Big time.

I’ve felt some serious tremors. Earthquakes are one thing, but these have felt focused. Localized, heavy, rumbling motions, that feel like entire tunnels are rearranging.

Probably, because they are.

I don’t like to think about that, but I’ve really got to consider the possibility.

My room here might feel pretty big, but I’m under the strong impression that the Dungeon might actually go all the way to the center of the earth… world… planetary body upon which I now reside.

It is vast, deep, dark, and terrible.

And it really does not like me.

I’ve been testing the waters, so to speak. Each time I go in, past that archway I’ve got my Golem’s posted, I can feel it.

Like a weight, or a cloud of thick miasma, mixed in with the taste of mana.

It hates me.

I can’t ever say it felt particularly friendly, but this worse. This is an active sort of attention. A shift in whatever mindset is lurking down there, to look in one direction. Zooming in on me, specifically.

It’s not just biding its time, either.

My downstairs Golem buddies, Alastar and Steward, have had to squish so many giant spiders in the past few days.

So. Many.

Every few hours, there’s another wave of skittering death. First one, then two, then a few dozen. Spiders just come flying up the tunnel I’ve got the two Golem posted by, and…

Well, it’s just bad.

I’ve got some theories.

Best guess is the Dungeon shifted a nearby tunnel to help the hive get closer to the surface.

Either that, or maybe they’ve been burrowing towards me.

Or, maybe they’ve always been there, and they’ve just gotten really hungry all of a sudden.

All I really know is that there must be some sort of local hive, or colony, or whatever you want to call a giant mass of eight-legged, teeming, death, close by.

It’s starting to get ridiculous.

Not just the numbers, but the smell.

My senses are starting to backfire here.

Spiders are not meant to fight giant blocks of solid stone. If you’ve heard of rock, paper, scissor, spider: rock wins.

Rock wins, every single time. No exceptions.

But damn, if these stupid spiders don’t keep trying anyways.

I’ve given up trying to clean with Earth magic.

Given up.

I have, in fact, settled with setting the entire archway on fire twice a day.

You can think of it like turning the oven to “clean.” Only, just a little more dangerous.

And smellier.

Sss… Air quality is a mess.

There’s some sort of opening to the nest in one of the side passages where the humans were mining crystals from. The main tunnel is more like a regal hallway, and it really doesn’t diverge from what I remember and dared explore recently, but the initial archway into that, does.

There are a bunch of side tunnels, right at the start, and they go in deep.

And they spew out those eight-legged bastards like clockwork.

Fools… to threaten you? The Great One? How dare-

Shut it.

Shush.

Seriously, though: how the hell am I suppose to sleep if I’m constantly worried about a bunch of spiders bumrushing me?

I can’t.

That’s the answer.

Seriously, I can’t.

Just the other day, one of them got through. It only had six legs left, and yet I had to set half the room on fire before I killed the stupid thing.

What if I’d actually been asleep?

Evil, glassy, hungry eyes, with giant, venomous…

No.

Enough is enough.

Obviously, this is not a problem that can be lived with. Something needed to be done, so I’ve been going a bit further in- with escort, and closing up any of the side tunnels I can find.

Earth Magic everywhere.

I’ve been going in about twenty slithers out, making sure there’s no possible way an opening can just “happen” to break back into the main hall without some serious warning.

It’s nerve-wracking, and time-consuming, but if there’s any silver-lining, it’s that they don’t seem to be shifting.

What I’ve shut, is staying shut.

At least, for now.

I thought about trying to close the entire hall up, but I have a strong suspicion that might backfire under some indirect muckery with the actual Dungeon Entrance.

I’d rather not find out what trouble that would cause me.

Sss…

I’m serious.

I don’t want to know.