Winters Bite 1 (1/2)

Boxxy was steadily climbing the mountain to the north of the once bustling city of Dragunov, atop which the Palace of the Crystal Maiden was said to reside. Although it had been a full day since the Regulator fell, the treacherous storm’s remnants had only just begun to clear up. As such there was still a frigid wind blowing that carried a heavy amount of sleet with it, but it was nowhere near as bad as it used to be before. Assuming that Xera and Kora’s estimations were accurate, of course. After all, it wasn’t Boxxy that had personally risked life and limb to traverse the icy tempest while it was in full swing, and now that it was out here it was glad it didn’t even attempt to do so.

Even if it was winding down, the weather was still cold enough to numb the Sandman’s limbs, though the fact it was wading through waist-deep snow was hardly helping. Boxxy was only mildly inconvenienced by this, as it had spent the better part of yesterday preparing for its assault on the freezing dungeon. It mostly did this by imitating the dwarven Lieutenant it killed in a fit of anger and infiltrating the various refugee camps. Then, it used the dwarf’s status to procure as much information and supplies it could get its tentacles on.

The info it had gathered was rather pitiable, however, since many of the city’s veteran adventurers had lost their lives in their futile efforts to break through the storm. That being the  case, it was still able to learn precisely three things, which was rather impressive considering the situation. The first tidbit was that the dungeon was under the domain of Goroth, the God of Earth and patron deity of artisans and artists. The second piece of information stated that traps were almost as common as monsters, so one needed to be wary of their surroundings at all times.

The third and probably most useful tip it had managed to hear related to the Crystal Maiden herself. Apparently she took an active role in confusing, taunting, disturbing and generally messing with any would be invaders. Even though she didn’t attack them directly, the combination of her interference and the dungeon’s many traps worked together grind their progress to a halt at every opportunity. These stalling tactics would then allow the frigid environment and extremely durable enemies to steadily wear them down both physically and mentally.

In short, challenging that dungeon boiled down to a war of attrition that could last days or even weeks. Overall it was the sort of place that would be impossible to challenge without the right preparation and supplies. Which was why Boxxy had spent the time ‘securing’ a crate full of alchemical elixirs that would help stave off the cold, as well as copious amounts of drinking water from melted snow. It didn’t necessarily need to bring any food along since its Hylt Metabolism would convert the dungeon’s ambient mana into nutrients anyway.

The other thing of note Boxxy had gotten its tentacles on were a trio of shield-shaped golden badges, each of which had a bright yellow gemstone faceted into them. These were all instances of a somewhat uncommon magic item called a Sun’s Crest, which also doubled as a religious icon of Solus. Exactly why or how a place like this had symbols of the Sun God’s faith remained something of a mystery to Boxxy, but it didn’t really care too much about such trivia.

After all, the Mimic had liberated these medallions from the confines of a ‘secure’ storage room for reasons other than their religious symbolism.

Pinning one of these to someone’s chest would cause the circular gemstone to glow like a miniature sun, providing both light and warmth to the wearer. The downside was that the enchantment consumed MP at a steady pace in order to remain active, though that was hardly a problem for Boxxy once its Hylt Metabolism kicked in. All things considered, it was an extremely useful adventuring tool that would prove instrumental when challenging the Palace of the Crystal Maiden. Which was precisely why the local guilds had a ready stockpile of these in the first place, and also the reason why the shapeshifter sought them out.

Boxxy definitely didn’t steal these things just because they were excessively shiny, okay?

The Mimic stopped pondering its questionable business practices when it came across a rather anomalous patch of terrain. From a distance it looked as if someone had used a colossal spoon to gouge out a part of the mountainside, which was then covered in a thick layer of ice and snow. It thought back on what that dwarven Lieutenant had said the day before, and realized this must have been the site where the Vault Beneath the Mountain used to reside. More importantly, it was also the last place where Fizzy had been seen alive and well.

The creature immediately darted towards the crater and began sifting through the frozen rubble. Even if that soldier had claimed the golem’s faceplate was the only thing they could find, Boxxy was skeptical as to how much they had actually searched. It began scanning over the area while using its trusty MLG, and just as expected discovered something of interest hidden 6 meters beneath the surface. This sort of thing was precisely why it had opted to personally make the trek up to the summit rather than rely on its familiars for transportation.

Even if they were proficient in several fields of violence, none of its contractees were particularly observant. On the upside, they had gotten rather experienced at excavation lately, so it had them help out with unearthing its find. Xera’s fire first melted through the layer of ice. Kora’s brute strength and many arms were then utilized to dig through the pieces of stone and metal, while Drea’s webbing was used to make sure the rubble didn’t shift while the fiend did her thing.

Under Boxxy’s guidance, the demonic trio quickly and efficiently unearthed the thing that had caught their master’s interest. It was a small mithril plate that was about the size of a business card. However, the Mimic couldn’t help but be somewhat puzzled by it, as it had many questionable aspects. The metal had an absurd degree of purity and a somehow nostalgic feel to it. Boxxy would almost swear it was another piece of Fizzy’s hide, but hesitated to do so since it was nowhere near as warped or malformed as her detached face.

It then decided that worrying about her was pointless. Hikari had given her word that its shiniest of shinies was still very much alive, and it was inclined to believe her. Although the Goddess of Dice Rolls was hardly the aspect of truth, she had no reason to deceive her chosen Hero on this. If anything that excuse he used about sparing the citizens because Mortimer would complain was far more questionable, but the real reason behind that act wasn’t all that important.

What truly mattered to Boxxy was what it would get from that deal.

With that in mind, the Mimic and its followers stopped moping around and resumed climbing the mountain towards its original destination. It had some trouble navigating since visibility was limited to a few dozen meters at best, but this wasn’t much of an issue since it just needed to go ‘up,’ towards the summit. Its simplistic approach had proven to be the right one, as it wound up on the dungeon’s borders within the hour.

And indeed, a ‘border’ was the only way to describe it. The waning snowstorm it had endured for the last while had come to an abrupt halt, but an entirely different phenomenon awaited further ahead. It was a surreal scene where sleet and wind continued to rage on behind it while an impenetrable fog of white loomed overhead in front, yet there was a three meter gap between them where the weather was impossibly calm. It was even relatively warm, most likely due to the sliver of sunlight was somehow fell on this strip of land alone.

However, perhaps the most vital part of this calm zone was its soil. Unlike the rest of the region, the ground here seemed like it was capable of supporting plant life, which was something the Mimic had been looking for a while. It even dug one of its legs into it and sprouted a root, confirming the soil underfoot was indeed fertile. Admittedly it was at the rate where all but the hardiest of plants would struggle to survive, but it was still the best place to plant a seed on this strangely dead mountain.

Which was precisely what Boxxy wanted to do. It opened up its Storage and retrieved what appeared to be a large pine cone, but something was clearly ‘off’ about it. The way its scales opened and closed in a rhythmical, cascading manner made it look like it was actively breathing. Which, all things considered, was not a trait one commonly associated with pine cones. The Mimic then took its root-foot out of the ground, gouging out a good chunk of the soil in the process. It then buried the squirming seed inside the newly formed hole and poured out a large bottle of holy water it had gotten from a temple of Nyrie before leaving Azurvale.

A patch of lush green grass then abruptly sprouted from the soggy soil, followed immediately by a series of green vines. They climbed resolutely upwards, twisting and coiling around each other while growing thicker and longer at a rapid pace. The growth spurt began to slow considerably once the plant reached a height of about 80 centimeters, at which point its surface began to harden into a layer of rough brown bark. Most peculiar of all, however, was its shape, as it looked eerily similar to a woman that had been buried waist-deep in the ground and had her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Which was pretty much the case, as demonstrated by how her hollow eye sockets opened up. Her arms peeled away from her torso and her hands pressed against the ground. The petite-looking feminine plant then lifted her lower half out of the ground, showing that her roots had formed into a pair of slender legs. Once she had completely removed herself from the soil and was able to stand up properly, the newly-born monster looked dumbly at the cloaked figure of the Sandman. She then began to shake violently while a shimmering green light steadily began to emerge within her vacant eyes. Her mysterious seizure stopped a few seconds later, at which point she bowed politely in front of the Mimic with a grace entirely unbefitting of a newborn monster.

“Greetings, milord,” she spoke with Ambrosia’s voice. “It brings me great joy to see thou hath decided to use this child after all.”

The pine cone Boxxy had been given was the manifestation of the dryad’s Ultimate Skill, called Vessel Sapling. When planted and fed blessed water, it would sprout into a spriggan, a type of plant monster related to treants. They normally only appeared in deep, lush woods with a high concentration of mana and were deceptively intelligent. They also fancied themselves as forest guardians that did not hesitate to use their wind, water and soil magic to fight off anything they saw as a threat to their habitat. Which, under normal circumstances, meant pretty much any non-plant lifeform they laid their eyes on.

This one was anything but normal, of course. It was nothing more than an empty shell which had been grown with the express purpose of serving as a host for Ambrosia’s consciousness. That was why, even if it lacked the generous proportions and hair-like vines of the dryad, it still had a beautiful face and antler-like branches identical to hers. The ancient tree would be able to remotely control her and experience the world through her body, though it only lasted for about a week before it fell apart. This meant that she had to rely on a courier to actually transport and plant the magic seed, otherwise she would not get very far from Azurvale.

Suffice it to say, there really had not been too many opportunities to do so in the past.

“How are you feeling?” asked Boxxy.

“… Malnourished,” answered the tree-woman with a slight pout. “The soil here, ‘tis quite poor.”

“I know, but believe me, it’s the best I could find around these parts.”

“I can see that,” came the annoyed answer as she looked around. “I must say, milord, I hath never once imagined I would be callout to a place nestled between two storms. Or that it even existed. ‘Tis a phenomenon most bizarre.”

“Tell me about it,” said Boxxy while rolling its eyes. “This entire trip has been one weird thing after the other, not to mention a colossal waste of time.”

“Mmm. So why is it that milord hath called me out at this time?”

“Ah, we’re about to invade a dungeon. It’s supposed to be quite challenging so I will likely need your help.”

“Oh! How wondrous!” exclaimed Ambrosia while clapping her hands. “Entering dungeon means there will be a lot of mana for me to feast on, yes?!”

“You sure seem excited by that prospect.”

“Well, eating the same thing for millennia can get quite dull. That is why I am eager to sample new things, even if they are not necessarily, as milord would put it, tastier.”

“I can respect that,” said the Mimic with a nod. “But if you were really that bored with Azurvale’s mana, then why didn’t you ask me to bring you out with me sooner?”

The spriggan shot Boxxy a rather sharp glare.

“Need I remind milord it was thou who chained mine mind to a dungeon?!”

Even if she were technically capable of ‘leaving’ the city - and indeed the dungeon - through her Vessel Sapling ability, the influence from the dungeon core had kept her from even considering that option. And since she never mentioned the Skill, nor did Boxxy think to ask her about such things, this part of her arsenal had simply laid forgotten until her recent liberation and subsequent reunion with the Hylt Creeper.

“Oh, right. Please forgive me, Ambrosia. I’ve said something insensitive.”

Ambrosia’s copy let out a small sigh and relaxed her stance.

“‘Tis alright, milord. I did not intend to lash out at thee, but I get ill-tempered when I am hungry since I’m used to being a lot more well fed.”

“Oh great, another glutton to deal with,” chimed in Xera from the side.

“Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me!” complained Drea, who was hiding behind Kora for some reason.

“Fuck,” cursed the fiend under her breath. “I was hoping to stay away from that spiteful bitch for a while longer.”

It would appear that Ambrosia’s punishment for her promiscuous behavior had left Kora with some mental scarring. Or at least that was what her body language suggested, especially the way she was unwittingly covering her crotch with her lowest pair of arms. Luckily for her and the others, their complaints were reserved for the telepathic channel between them, well out of the dryad’s earshot.

“What would thou expect of me during this endeavor, milord?” asked Ambrosia.

“You can use support-type magic, right?”

“Indeed. This body knows several Spells that can cure wounds or shield allies. I am a bit out of practice, however, so mine chanting may be a bit slow.”

“That’s fine, just focus on supporting us and keeping as many of us alive as possible. My survival is top priority, of course, followed in order by yourself, then Snack, then Claws, then Arms.”

Even if they were immortal beings, a demon would be of little to no use if their bodies were to expire. Should that happen, though, they could be re-summoned after or even during the battle, unlike Ambrosia’s Vessel Sapling. Her Ultimate Skill was limited to producing only one seed at a time, so if that spriggan were to fall then replacing it would be impossible without returning to Azurvale.