My chest feels tight and hollow and I look down at the enemy below me and I feel my foot start to press down, further and further, grinding my heel into the enemy’s flesh, pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing and I can feel bones break and shatter and crack and snap and yet the enemy wont make a sound and wont stop glaring at me so I keep pressing down and down and down until the hard gives way to the soft and the crunch becomes soft and soft and my foot sinks into the enemy flesh and into the skin and I feel organs being pushed aside but not that one not the one that beats softly, slowly, carefully, as though it knows, as though it wants me to defeat it, to gain a level, to gain exp and maybe a new skill and to get one step closer to clear completion, and I feel this organ, the heart, the heart of it all, being squeezed just beneath my toes, and I look into the eyes of the enemy, but the enemy isn’t looking at me with the fury of a thousand lovers anymore, its looking at the roots of the tree right next to me, its broken, trembling wing reaching out to touch the scarred bark, and for some reason, it almost looks as though the tree is reaching out to the enemy, too, so I push down again, one final push, one final press, and the heart bursts beneath my foot and the enemy stops moving.

Haah, haah, haah…

I didn’t… get a level up… Not even for a skill.

I step off of the body. Looking up, I find the tree looking at me, through hollow holes. It isn’t moaning and groaning anymore. Maybe it’s happy that its tormentor is dead. As I stare into its hollows, some sort of liquid rolls out of them, slipping in between the grooves and coils of the scarred bark. Like clear sap. What, are you crying or something? Why? For this—this… monster? Look at it! It's got nothing but sharp claws and sharp teeth! What’s there to mourn over?

Or maybe that’s just something trees do.

But for some reason, looking at this tree stupidly crying while still being all silent is getting me riled up. There’s no reason for it to look at me like that when I’m only doing what has to be done. What’s wrong with making a few sacrifices for the greater good? Nothing! That’s exactly it.

I step up to the tree. Planting a hand on it, I mentally recoil at the feeling of a warm tree. It’s appalling.

I’ll tell you what—if I was transformed into a tree, and a harpy kept screaming into my ear, and wailing and whining, and also cutting me up to drink my blood, and some friendly chap came around and took care of that annoying miser, you know what I’d be happy for that lovely fellow to do next?

Smiling to myself, I stab my hand into the trunk, jimmying it between the bark itself and the wood. And then, I just peel off a bit. Blood is flowing in pints and gallons, but that’s all part of the procedure. Once I’ve got a nice bit of bark peeled, I tear it off the trunk and give it a bite. It’s lukewarm, and tastes mostly like wood, but the added bit of blood gives it a very strange taste and texture. It isn’t exactly bad, but I’m not very interested in eating any more of it.

With my tuppence taken, I begin chewing and scratching at the exposed wood. I had expected this to take way longer, but the fact that the wood was softened by so much blood made it quite a bit easier, and after only a few minutes, I finally bit through enough to be able to say timber!

I jump out of the way and the tree falls down with a loud thwack and a slightly quieter splat.

It’s not like I had to kill this guy, but if I was a living tree, I’d want the same thing. After a few minutes, the tree stops bleeding and I can properly turn my attention to the floor itself.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Okay, so… Sniffsniffsniff… Yeah, we have about a few hundred harpies. Around half of them are spread out and alone, very close to a blood-filled tree. Just below a third of all the trees here have blood in them. The other half of the harpies are crowded together in a number of smaller or bigger groups, the smallest at only two or three and the largest at around forty.

It’s a lot, but I think it’s doable.

I haven’t checked the time in a while, but…

<07:04:38

Day 301>

29:16:55:42>

Yeah, I’ve got a whole attempt to do this. Perfect.

Step one…

I look around my position. There are about a dozen dead harpies and one felled tree. Right.

I’ve got a few chickens to skin.

As I dismantle the harpies, I find with interest that there isn’t actually that much structural difference between the goblin and bird parts. It just passes almost seamlessly into a leaner kind of muscle. Equally interesting, the harpies are all incredibly light. It makes sense since they’re supposed to be able to fly, but it still surprised me to find that their bones are hollow. Logistically speaking, I don’t think the size of the wingspan is enough for these to exist in a non-magical setting, but considering that they were made from magic, their flight is excused. I guess.

…I hope I don’t get salmonella from this. I mean, sure, it’s magical chicken-women, but it’s still chicken, right? Maybe I shouldn’t eat it, you know… raw?

—Well, only one way to find out!

With the world’s biggest chicken thigh in hand, I dig in. Chomp chomp chomp chew chew chew. Hm. Erm… It’s surprisingly slimy, and not in a good way. The flavour is fine, kind of bland, but it’s all very lean. Chickens generally have a very high fat percentage, but that’s mainly because of breeding. These are, in comparison, wild chickies. I almost want to set up a fire to try cooking them, but I literally don’t know how to make a fire. Rub sticks together? I doubt that actually works.

Hmm… As I dig into a chewy chicken breast, a sudden thought strikes me. Is this… unethical? No, specifically, is this against the rules of the server? It’s not like I care about breaking them or anything, but I don’t want to accidentally blurt out something to Moleman that’ll get me executed or whatever.

Let’s see here…

Opening the community boards, I search until I find Moleman’s profile. Luckily for me, by scrolling down only a little, I find that he made a post regarding the status of goblins within the tutorial and how we should meet them.

Alright, here we go…

Okay, so, to summarise, there’s a fair bit about which floors have you meeting goblins and how you can interact with them in a positive and friendly one. There’s some basic goblin-ese you can learn, such as how to say your own name, and that, for example, kier tu un’lau? means are you okay? which would have been great to know a couple of months ago.

Anyway, on the note of how to recognise a goblin, Moleman lists the following traits aside from the obvious pop-up: one, they are usually pretty short; two, they are typically either green, red, yellow or blue in colour; and three, they have long ears and are either completely hairless or have a mane around their necks. Hm.

I turn away from the screen and look down at the half-disassembled harpy at my feet. Hairless, check… long ears, check… green, check…

Leaning down, I pick her up and hold her in front of me. With her legs completely stretched out, she’s almost as tall as I am.

Well, there you have it, folks! Not a goblin: confirmed. Wonderful. In that case, there’s no reason to worry.

The only problem I have with the harpies is their skin. The goblin part is fine, and I have no problem skinning a chicken, but the part where the two skins cross into each other is where the trouble starts. That part specifically is unusually thin, so it often tears, and I also can’t remove the feathers and skin from the wings without tearing it. It’s all very frustrating, but in the end, after a dozen tries, I finally have a single complete harpy skin.

I almost want to try wearing it like a disguise, but I’m pretty sure it’ll just tear apart. Shame. Just for the sake of the floor theme, I put it on. It might be a bit late to say, but I haven’t worn anything since the tenth floor. My hides kept getting washed away on the eleventh, and they burnt to a crisp on floor twelve, so here we are.

Ah, clothes, wonderful clothe—

Erm. This is kind of… uncomfortable? Hrm. Well, uh, I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Besides, it works as scent and visual camouflage, so I do sort of need it. I was just surprised by the feeling of the feathers. Not… not nice. Do not like. I’ve always been sensitive to the clothes I wear, but this is a new one.

Pulling on the harpy hide fully, I put the last of the other harpies into my inventory. I hope I’ll have time to eat them. It’s not that I mind them getting sold, it’s just that it’s more worthwhile for me to eat them and raise my indigestion tolerances.

With my preparations complete, I take a look across the forest. In the far distance, I catch sight of a dark, twisting tower, supported by a massive tree entwined around the tower itself, so large it casts a shadow across the land. That’s my goal, then.

Looking to the forest, instead, I take a deep breath through my nose.

Now, where to start?