[Fun Dryad fact! š³] Angus's text box materialized in my vision, completely ruining the dramatic tension. [They're made of living wood, but their hearts are petrified oak! And they're super grumpy if you step on their roots! (Ā¬_Ā¬)]
The trees changed as we walked, the swamp's gnarled, black trunks giving way to towering, silver-barked giants. Their leaves were a shade of green so vivid it almost hurt to look at, and the air grew clean and cool, smelling of damp earth and crushed mint. The ground beneath our feet became a springy carpet of moss, a welcome change from the sucking mud of the swamp. The light that filtered through the dense canopy was dappled and soft, creating shifting patterns on the forest floor. It was beautiful.
It felt a little out of place, actually. Given how unpleasant the landscape has been all this time.
This world apparently has some beautiful spots to it.
Beautiful spots with angry inhabitants, apparently. But we've yet to see any of those yet.
Just in case, I'm trying not to step on any roots. But that is...
Probably pointless, given I can't imagine the man forging barefoot ahead of me will make any such attempt. He's probably looking forward to the opportunity to be attacked, just so he can kill something else today and I can't order him not to. It's just the kind of petty I've come to expect from him.
He hasn't said a word to me in a while.
I'd be relieved about it, but I know that he's thinking of something insulting for me. I'm sure of it.
Whenever he does say something, I'm sure it will be extra severe.
I refused to think about it.
Instead, I listened to the wildlife. The soft chittering of squirrels high in the canopy, the distant call of some unseen bird. It wasā¦ peaceful. A fragile, deceptive peace, but peace nonetheless.
I was so focused on not stepping on any roots that I almost walked into him. He had stopped in the middle of a small clearing, and was staring at a tree. It was a massive oak, its trunk wider than a house, its branches reaching up to the sky like gnarled, ancient arms. There was nothing particularly special about it other than its large size, not that I could see.
I couldn't imagine that alone would move him.
"What?" I asked, my voice a little too loud in the quiet of the forest. "Is that tree insulting you? Should I order it to stop?"
His jaw was tight. The only response he gave me was a slow, deliberate turn of his head.
Then he pointed with a single, elegant finger.
I followed his gaze. At first, I saw nothing. Then, I saw it. A face, carved into the trunk of the tree. It wasn't a carving. It wasā¦ part of the tree. The features were subtle, almost indistinguishable from the natural grain of the wood, but they were there. A pair of closed eyes. A small, pursed mouth. It was a serene, sleeping face.
[That's a Dryad! š³] Angus's text box popped up. [Or at least, it will be! They're born from ancient trees! They grow with the tree for centuries before they ever wake up! So cute! Like a wooden baby! (ļ½”ļ½„Ļļ½„ļ½”)ļ¾ā”]
A wooden baby. Right. The face on the tree looked ancient, timeless. The idea of it being a 'baby' was absurd.
"What about it?" I asked, keeping my voice low. I didn't want to wake theā¦ wooden baby.
"It is watching us," the demon king said, his tone flat and certain. "Its progenitor must also be nearby."
I eyed him, lips pursed.
Was he worried about a showdown with a Dryad?
After all, I suppose even if he had infinite power, he was limited by what he could do without killing me, right? And he was even more limited if he didn't want me fainting.
With that in mind he-
"If I attack it now, perhaps we can draw all of them in the area to us and kill them in one fell sweep."
He spoke aloud, to himself, as he walked past the tree and deeper into the forest. "We can rest without concern when there's nothing left alive."
I was wrong.
He wasn't worried.
He was planning.
And it didn't escape my notice that he said 'I' attack, not 'we'.
He didn't consider me to be a part of the decision making process.
But I am.
I have to be.
It's not a moral conclusion or brave stand against a monster, it's just...
Necessary. Letting him dominate me and lead this party with his sheer force of personality and power would only lead to me getting killed, because if we did the things he wanted...
Well, one of those things is my death.
The rest are... probably just as bad.
But I am pretty biased about what part sounds the worst to me.
I run to catch up to him. "We aren't attacking ancient tree babies." I say, panting slightly. I was in better shape than I was a few days ago, but I was not used to... any of this.
He stopped and turned his head slowly, like he was expecting me to say exactly what I did.
And was just... disgusted by the entire concept.
The absolute arrogance of it burned in my chest.
He didn't even speak to me. He started walking again, ignoring me completely.
"I mean it!" I raised my voice. "We aren't attacking them." I wasn't sure I could order him not to. Not without sparking another power struggle I don't want to be a part of just now.
But...
He probably doesn't want a repeat performance either, given her lost last time.
At least...
I'm hoping it's something like that. It's about all the real leverage I have. I try to make my posture confident as I walk behind him.
"They are not your friends, mortal." The Demon King said, still not turning around. "They disdain human life. Isn't that sad?"
He paused and looked at me over his shoulder. "You're defending something that would see you dead without a thought."
"Well. They're cuter than you."
Not for the first time, the man seemed genuinely offended.
But it did buy his silence.