Chapter 42
Written by Bayzo Albion
With a graceful, almost indolent sweep, the Forest Queen parted the heavy drapes, flooding the room with warm sunlight.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," she teased, her voice laced with playful mockery.
I stretched languidly, my body protesting the return to wakefulness with a dull ache in my muscles.
"Yeah, it really is a good morning... despite the storms brewing ahead." I squinted against the light. "By the way, am I handsome?"
Her eyes, the vibrant hue of fresh spring leaves, scanned my face with deliberate care, as if appraising a curious relic from a bygone era—intriguing, yet not fully deciphered.
"In our world, beauty and power are two faces of the same coin," she replied. "The mightier the being, the more exquisite its form. That's the essence of our nature."
"But am I handsome?" I pressed, seeking the unvarnished truth.
She held her breath for a beat, weighing her words.
"You're... uniquely attractive," she conceded, her tone free of sarcasm, carrying a hint of genuine appraisal.
"So, I'm not strong enough for you?" I probed, searching her features for any flicker of doubt, the sunlight casting ethereal highlights in her hair.
A subtle, enigmatic smile graced her lips.
"Be useful, and you'll always be beautiful in my eyes—strength be damned." Her honesty cut like a winter wind, stark and unyielding.
"Got it," I said curtly, swinging my legs over the bed's edge.
The sun's rays lingered on my skin, but a chill settled inside me. "Useful" in her world often meant venturing into shadows from which few returned unscathed.
"You didn't clear all the trash," she reminded me suddenly, her words landing like a verdict.
"I took everything," I countered evenly.
With a wave of her hand, she conjured a mosaic of reflections in the mirror, revealing the lower icy level in crisp detail. The floor gleamed pristine, as if the mountains of bloodied carcasses and bones had never existed.
"When did you manage that?" Her voice remained level, but I caught the subtle quiver of her lashes—the first genuine surprise I'd seen from her in ages.
"My clone proved quite the asset," I shrugged nonchalantly.
"I should head out," I said, stretching one last time. "Glad to help. Maybe too glad... No, way too glad."
She narrowed her eyes, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "We both gained from it."
I rose from the plush bed, reluctant to leave its silken embrace, like parting from a lover's warmth. A quick stretch, then I drained the last bottle of wine. That final sip held a poignant finality, echoing the bittersweet glance before farewell.
"What's next for you?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe, her gaze tracking me like a predator sizing up prey—curious how long I'd last.
"Build a village. Right here, in your forest."
Her brows shot up in genuine astonishment.
"Monsters grow fiercer with every moonrise, and you're planning shacks in the deadliest spot?"
"Got better options?" I shrugged.
"It's easier to seize an existing village than start from scratch," she purred, her voice honeyed but edged with fangs. "I could make you stronger... for a price, naturally."
"I'm the type who prefers a blank canvas. You won't sway me."
She held my gaze a moment longer, and I swore a shadow of pity—or anticipation—flashed in those verdant depths. Then she sighed, as if humoring a stubborn child: "At least scout a decent spot. Advice from a... useful ally." The last words dripped with wry amusement. "Though I know you'll ignore it."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm off."
"Good luck..."
"Luck's always welcome."
Turning, I plunged into the labyrinthine halls of her arboreal palace—and immediately realized escape would be trickier than slaying any beast.
I laughed aloud, eyeing the endless corridors riddled with portals like cunning snares.
"You're messing with me!"
The walls breathed subtly, wood creaking as if spying on my every move. Shadows in the corners twitched faintly, and carvings on the panels shifted like living tattoos—guiding or misleading, I couldn't tell.
I peered into the nearest portal: another identical gallery awaited, bathed in a soft golden glow. About to step through, a soft, dragging rustle echoed from around the bend. Someone—or something—lurked in this eternal maze.
I held my breath.
The Forest Queen emerged from a mirrored gateway, her silhouette materializing like ink bleeding through water.
"Truly lost and can't find the exit?" she inquired, tilting her head like a cat toying with a mouse.
I crossed my arms. "Tired of lurking in the shadows and decided to show up?"
She pressed a hand to her chest dramatically. "Partly right. But mostly, I can't have anyone poking too deeply into my... ace portals."
"Fair. Escort me out?"
A crisp snap of her fingers—and the world inverted. Mirrored halls vanished, replaced by dense forest, the air rich with pine sharpness and damp earth.
"That was an option all along?!" I gasped, spinning to take in the trees. "Damn, brain fails at the worst times..."
*Better if it glitches in a crisis than when you need it,* my clone snarked.
I ignored him, focusing inward. A mental map unfolded, but gaps yawned where paths should be—as if someone had deliberately erased my route.
"So, what's the play now?" I muttered. Grand schemes swirled in my head, but starting points eluded me. I stood at a crossroads, each fork vanishing into fog. No one rushed me; I could afford the luxury of deliberation. List priorities, sequence steps... then charge ahead.
*If you're clueless, chop trees. Heh heh heh,* my clone chuckled, reveling in the chaos.
"Hilarious," I rubbed my temples. "But there's truth in jest..."
> **Interface:** [To acquire Extra Skill "Matter Fusion" requires: 50,000 Experience]
> [Current Experience: 211]
I trudged deeper into the woods, immersion like diving into a verdant sea of secrets. The air hung heavy, saturated with pine's crisp bite, mossy dampness, and the resinous tang of bark. Sunbeams pierced the canopy, sketching cryptic patterns on the forest floor—symbols begging interpretation, if one spoke the woodland tongue.
Each stride unveiled wonders: an ancient rune-carved stone half-buried in roots, a translucent spirit gliding between trunks like mist given form.
Abruptly, the air shimmered, and in a whirlwind of fallen leaves, the Forest Queen manifested. Her gown of living branches whispered with every shift, eyes aglow with cool, predatory intrigue.
"How long do you plan to tail me?" I asked. "It's only been an hour since we parted."
"Monsters strengthen with each moon's ascent," she murmured, her tone devoid of levity. "So, dear Gendalf of Rivia, I'd advise accelerating your growth."
Her form dissolved into the ether, leaving a bitter resin trail in the breeze.
*She's bored out of her skull but hates lifting a finger. Gods, I get it... that eternal tug-of-war between laziness and duty,* my clone griped.
I kicked a stray stone, watching it vanish into the tall grass with a soft rustle.
"So, monsters worry her... But when we felled her precious trees, she didn't bat an eye."
*There's a reason. Maybe more than one,* the inner voice replied, laced with uncharacteristic gravity.
"How about a monster rally—Le Mans style for the local fiends?" I suggested half-jokingly.
*First, track down said monsters, 'Gendalf of Rivia.' Remember our rule? One sword for beasts, the other for beauties.*
"Both for beasts," I smirked.
*Ha-ha-ha! Inappropriate for paradise... but cracks me up!*
Yet, on the edge of thought, a silhouette loomed—the first foe, I sensed, would seek me out.
With a finger snap, I teleported to the site destined for my home. The ground lay flat and arid, a nearby stream babbling invitingly—prime foundation for a hearth.
Before building, I crafted tools. Scoured for materials: an ash handle for the axe, resilient and unyielding; a chisel honed from oak, its edge razor-keen; acacia wedges tough enough for hammer blows. Each piece I shaped by hand, attuned to the wood's resonant hum and the crisp snaps as blade met grain.
I had just raised my axe over the first log, the blade hovering in anticipation, when the air above me thickened unnaturally, turning viscous like warm resin dripping from a wounded tree. The system interface flashed frantic warnings in my periphery—red alerts pulsing like alarm bells—but I brushed them aside, too focused on the task at hand.
> **Interface:** [Construction Skill Upgraded: 2/100]
> [Extra Skill "Fortune" Activated: Death Defiance 1/3]
I paused, scrutinizing the text as if it held hidden prophecies. A shiver traced my spine—why trigger "Death Defiance" now? If the system deemed it necessary, the road ahead promised more than mere carpentry.
"Long... time no see, little human," a raspy, grating voice scraped through the silence, like claws dragging across rusted iron. A shiver raced down my spine, prickling my skin with gooseflesh. "Forgotten me already? Look up…"