Sproutling 111

“So, goblin, do you come to lava filled caverns often in your line of work?” Sam asked the hobgoblin as they stood near the bridge. Both parties had decided by tacit agreement not to disturb Tree and Dryad’s reunion.

“Grok.” Grok said, eyeing the human as if sizing him up for the pot.

“I’m sorry, I have no clue what that means.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

Grok considered how to take revenge.

Grok couldn’t use sharp objects, as that wooden armor looked rather tough, and those glowing purple runes gave him the willies.

Grok couldn’t use poison, because good traceless poison was expensive, both in time to make, and in gold to create!

Grok couldn’t bash the human’s head in, because heavy objects were not a scout’s forte.

Wait! There wasn’t a need for fatal revenge here. This was a minor matter. Minor matters should be dealt with by minor things…

Grok grinned evilly as he remembered a small vial among his various pouches. Yes, while the human couldn’t be killed, there was no reason he couldn’t be...inconvenienced.

Sam stepped slightly further away from the giggling hobgoblin. Tree and Dryad seemed to keep the strangest pets, best not to be too close to them. He might explode in a gooey mess without warning.

Sam sighed, he hadn’t expected his life to take such a strange turn. A second later, Sam stared at the figure that had appeared to the left of both him and the hobgoblin.

Grok’s attention was drawn out from his planning of revenge by the sudden appearance of a strange humanoid. She wore a bizarre, yet eccentrically colored comfortable ensemble of patchwork clothing. Her clothing was strewn about with pouches, pockets, and a rather dashing hood. Grok paid special attention to the hood because it was a fine hood, the type of hood he’d always dreamed of having! Underneath the hood were a pair of bright green eyes staring at both him and the human. There were also ears poking out from the hood, or perhaps they were attached to it?

Grok slowly started to back away, and then froze when he realized the creature had a tail. A tail that was twitching. Grok had seen a similar tail before, on the large mountain cats that liked to eat goblins as delicious snacks!

Such a tail meant freezing in place was the best choice of action. Grok went one step further and with the speed born of self-preservation, leaped behind the human!

This way, if things went bad, the human could give him precious time to run away!

Sam ignored the hobgoblin that was cowering behind him.

Although he didn’t know how strong this strange mix of cat and human could be, he was utterly confident in Tree’s armor. Well, Dryad’s armor, upgraded by Tree, it was almost obscenely powerful.

Sam decided to take the first step towards communication with this young catlady, “Hello, my name is Sam ser-”

“Weak.” the catlady said, scornfully.

“Uh, what?” Sam replied, his mind paused momentarily.

The youthful looking woman glanced over in the distance at Tree and Dryad, and her gaze softened for a moment. However, the next instance when she stared back at Sam, he felt a strong sense of danger.

Before he could respond a single right clenched fist slammed into his armor pulping his body into a meat paste.

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Sam gasped out as the Time Reversal function in the runes activated pulling him back from death. He could feel the reaper’s cold hand growing more solid on his shoulder. The gaze from the realm of death was slowly being fixed on him, in the form of a bright pair of green eyes staring emotionlessly at him.

“Clockwork Kingdom! Bubble! Boost!” Sam screamed almost blurring the words together with the speed. Even then, he barely made it in time before the second punch slammed into him.

As the Reversal activated again, Sam realized to his horror he had been consecutively killed almost once per second for the last ten seconds. The creatures speed was inhuman, beyond anything he’d ever seen. If she hadn’t paused in her attacks, Reversal might have been pushed past the point he could revive.

Another fatal punched stopped just millimeters from his face. Sam realized the woman wasn’t even looking at him, instead glancing with a questioning expression towards the Tree.

It seemed like there was a silent mental communication going on between the two, similar to the voice Sam heard before the Elders attacked him.

Sam prayed very hard towards the Tree to stop this insane attacker!

Grok stared enviously at the human’s armor. It was armor that let him come back from death!

Armor that any goblin would desire!

It even glowed with purple, his favorite color!

Dammit, how come humans got all the good things!

***

Stop. Mishra heard the voice within her mind as she was about to strike another series of killing blows against the armor clad human. Although the human was incredibly weak, his armor gave her a feeling of intense threat!

Master? Mishra sent mentally, her mind overjoyed. It seemed after breaking the restrictions of the world of Vespar she had transcended to re-unite with the great Tree!

Of course, a small island was now forever lost to the depths of the seas of Vespar, but that was a small price to pay!

Hmph, who else? Don’t keep hitting him, Mishra. If you do enough critical damage the armor will…activate…to defend him. The active abilities are strong, the passive ones will force me to spend time repairing your shattered physical form. Tree said, his mental voice sounding mildly distracted. Stand with the hobgoblin and human, and wait till I’m done teaching Dryad what she needs to follow her Dao of Blood safely.

I can hit him…less…hard? He’s a great practice dummy, Master! Mishra said, her voice bubbling over with joy. It had been a long time since she found someone that could take more than a single strike. As a result she felt, even though her power had grown, her technique was getting rusty. There were only so many minor ‘issues’ she could resolve for Guido before being bored after all.

Hm…no turning him into blood mist, or meat pulp, or shattering internal organs, or turning his bones to powder. There’s no point in technique if you can’t do anything except exert full power in every strike. You are one who follows the Dao of Strength, not the Dao of Idiot Punching! Tree said, giving tacit permission to continue.

Mishra licked her lips before her eyes brightened as she forcibly restrained her strength. Inner Flame, her personal method and understanding of Flame circulated within her body. Slowly a golden-red sheen of paper thin light covered her entire body. She watched the human take a defensive stance before she leaped forward in a blur.

***

Explaining the complex information I had stolen, ahem, acquired from the dryads of the past to Dryad was a delicate process.

“Not the face! NOT THE FACE!”

There were minor distractions around, but nothing really serious that stopped Dryad from learning her Dao of Blood. Combining it with the Dao of Life she already had was a minor matter for a creature of her skill level.

“Not between the legs!”

Dryad glanced back at the servants scampering about before asking me a serious question, “Flame and Time work together, but how are you going to mix the others?”

“I’m not sure.” I said. “However, it will probably involve a great deal of science, a dash of insanity, a dollop of Chaos, and a pinch of dead Divinity.”

“Are you learning the Dao or a cooking recipe?” Dryad said her face amused.

“Isn’t it the same thing…sort of?” I said, “Do you want to take the Forest you’ve grown here with you? I think when I reforge this world, I can make it fit inside another leaf. For some reason my spatial leaves seem like an inherent ability, and not a learned one.”

“Are you saying you have no clue how you compress a world into your leaves?” Dryad asked, curious.

“No clue, I just do it and it works. I’m sure Chaos helped me at first, and now it’s just like breathing. It actually makes it harder to choose Space.” I said as I considered the options among my Dao Roots. “Out of all the choices, I think I’ll go with the safest one for now.”

“…Metal?” Dryad said, her eyes widening.

“A tree that can manipulate Flame, Time, and Metal should help me reforge this world at minimal cost.” I said, my branches waving in agreement.

“YOU HIT MY TAIL! DIE HUMAN SCUM!”

“What do you think about Vex’s assumption that this world is an out of the way place?” Dryad asked.

“It falls in line with the energy I sense. There are traces of Divinity in the Time I read, yet they are far removed from the present. It’s highly likely these races didn’t evolve naturally here.” I state, putting forward my theory. Dryad follows the trail of thought to the end, easily. “Seeding?”

“Indeed. I suspect the Divinities are far less ‘solid’ than they appear to outsiders. This planet is probably a forgotten seedling they planted to garner faith power. This would suggest two things. One, the Divines are fighting someone or something. Or two, their management system is so antiquated that only a core group of planets receive management. I suspect the Shattered Plane was only monitored due to paranoia. If we had been more circumspect, they likely wouldn’t have even noticed our escape.” I pause, “Of course now we are probably circulated among whatever system they have as dangerous fugitives.”

“So what? Given enough time we will evolve beyond their reach. I saw a shadow of what you might become.” Dryad said, smiling. “A tree that is to World Trees what they are to a normal one.”

“It will take time, lots of Time, lots of experiments, a great many World Hearts…” I respond.

“Those are merely numbers.” Dryad said, dismissively.

“Quantity has a quality all its own.” I reply. “With that in mind, let’s start with the first project. Have the humans in charge, what’s his name again, ah, Garvon, yes have Garvon bring all the mage blooded to view me.” A tiny group of leaves flickers from above and falls into Dryad’s waiting palms.

“Let us see if the humans of this world are worth my Time.” I state, with a serious tone.