Dante tried fusing the two SSS+ Grassberries—and to his delight, it worked.
[OBTAINED: Elixirberry!]
|| Elixirberry ||
>> LV.1
>> 1 000 000 gil
>> Radiates a soft, emerald glow
>> Restores a significant amount of health and stamina
>> Grants a temporary boost to vitality and regeneration
>> If consumed by a monster, instantly increases its level by +1
|| END ||
"Whoa. It worked."
Dante hadn't expected that.
[LIBRARY Updated!]
His eyes widened as the notification appeared. That meant the Elixirberry wasn't just an item—it was entirely new. A fusion no one in this world had ever created before.
But it consumed 10% of his SE, so it had its drawbacks.
He grinned. Being a SSS+ Master Fusionist definitely had its perks. But it came with its fair share of drawbacks too—like the fact that all his skills were support-based.
If he wanted to survive in this war-torn world—let alone live peacefully—he'd need a pack of strong fighters to protect him. Preferably ones who didn't ask too many questions . . . or expect regular pay.
As much as Dante wanted to keep exploring the possibilities of fusion—and maybe see if these items had some kind of final form—it was getting dark, and he needed a place to rest.
Sleeping outside in an unfamiliar jungle? Definitely a rookie mistake. Especially when said jungle buzzed with strange, possibly carnivorous lifeforms, and Dante . . . well, he wasn't exactly the warrior type.
His idea of "offense" was throwing fruit and hoping it counted as a spell component. He only had a handful of offensive spells, and most of them were more flashy than deadly.
With a sigh, he cast [CLOAK], a supportive spell that let him blend into the environment. It wasn't invisibility exactly—more like turning into a very forgettable bush. Or a suspiciously still patch of moss.
Thankfully, his SE reserves were full after drinking a potion he made, so he wasn't too worried about maintaining the spell. He'd just have to keep it going until he found a proper town or village—or at least a safe place that didn't come with glowing eyes or mysterious howls.
As he crept through the underbrush, leaves crunching softly underfoot, Dante muttered to himself, "Note to self: next time, fuse a house."
Dante paused mid-step, eyes narrowing as he caught movement in the trees above. At first, he thought they were sloths—but they were far from ordinary.
These creatures were fluffy, almost plush-looking, with moss-green fur and comically oversized eyes that blinked in slow motion. They swung lazily from branch to branch like jungle acrobats who'd overdosed on relaxation.
Weird. But kind of cute.
As he continued forward, he noticed other beasts lurking between the foliage. Some looked vaguely familiar—like twisted versions of animals he'd seen in other worlds—while others were complete biological mysteries.
One had three tails and antlers made of bark. Another looked like a squirrel crossed with a lantern.
Dante didn't plan on greeting any of them.
He made sure to keep his steps light and his spell active. Most of the creatures had exceptional senses. They couldn't see him thanks to [CLOAK], but a sharp nose or an unexpected noise might still give him away.
To be safe, he activated another item from his dimensional belt: [ODOR SPORES]—a small, thumb-sized pod that burst into a gentle mist when crushed. It suppressed his scent and masked his presence with the aroma of local flora.
Bonus: it acted as a mild repellent to most low-level creatures.
The downside? If he stumbled into the territory of a high-tier predator, it might just make him smell like food with garnish.
"Let's not test that today," Dante muttered under his breath, inching past a bush that looked a little too sentient.
He continued moving—slow, careful steps, eyes darting between shifting shadows and rustling leaves—hoping to find a village, or at the very least, a less murdery corner of the jungle.
Then he stopped.
Just up ahead, nestled between thick roots and glowing mushrooms, was a creature—small, trembling, and definitely not a threat.
At first glance, Dante thought it was some kind of fey gnome. It stood barely knee-high, with powder-blue skin, a bulbous nose, and pointy ears that twitched like antennas. Its wide, glossy eyes were filled with fear as it clutched a tiny bag to its chest.
What really caught Dante's attention, though, were the things surrounding it.
Vipers. A dozen or more. But not normal ones.
They were bizarre—long and slithery, sure—but each one bore strange, leafy patterns along its scales. Some looked like blooming flowers, others like crawling shrubs, their camouflage almost perfect in the jungle underbrush. It was as if nature had given them the power of deception and fashion sense.
And judging by the dull violet glow around their fangs, they were definitely poisonous.
Dante muttered under his breath and activated [SCAN].
The results blinked across his interface, confirming his suspicions:
|| Venom Bloom Serpent ||
>> Rank-D monster
>> Highly toxic. Territorial. Sensitive to heat and vibration.
>> Drops: Bloomscale (Crafting), Sprite Energy Ball, Rare Venom Extract
|| END ||
He whistled softly, impressed despite the danger. Rank-D monster are easy to deal with. But came in packs, it could be tricky.
"Deadly, beautiful, and useful. Just my luck."
While he didn't need the Sprite Energy Balls—his SE was still full—those Bloomscales and venom extracts were another story. He needed high-grade poisons for future fusion recipes, and this was the perfect opportunity.
Risky, but tempting.
Poisons were his primary form of offense—silent, efficient, and brutally effective.
When it came to toxins, he didn't need flashy spells or explosions—just the right venom in the right dose. And for that, he needed raw materials. Venoms. Different kinds. Lots of them.
The little gnome-like creature was in real trouble. Its tiny hands trembled as it backed into a tree trunk, the vipers slowly coiling inward like deadly petals around prey.
Dante crouched low, weighing his options. He could sneak away and avoid the fight entirely—or intervene, get the materials he needed, and maybe earn some goodwill from a local creature who looked like it might know where the nearest town was.
"Alright," he whispered, slipping a vial from his pouch. "Let's turn this rescue into a resource run."