Whisperwood. I don't know what that word even means. I'd assume it was her name if it weren't the demon king saying it - or maybe if he had any reason to know it. But neither were true.
So I didn't have any idea what it meant. Except that it was probably, somehow, insulting. Though insults are usually supposed to be self-evident. He's...not great at it, sometimes.
Your passage will cost you.
The thought bloomed in my mind, a heavy, undeniable pronouncement. The Dryad leader's gaze didn't waver. There was no anger in her moss-green eyes, only a deep, ancient resolve. She was not negotiating. She was stating a fact.
The demon king scoffed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed in the silent city. "Is that so? And what cost shall a twigling too foolish to recognize who she addresses extract from I?" He gestured, one elegant hand encompassing the forest around them. "I will not be paying a toll to pass through a collection of particularly uppity salad."
The Dryads around us stirred. Not a single one spoke, not a single branch creaked, but the air thickened, shimmered with a rising, collective energy. The soft golden light of the forest seemed to sharpen, to focus on him, a silent, potent condemnation.
The cost is not for him, the thought-voice came again, cutting through the tension. It was directed solely at me. It is for you.
"I barely know him. I'm just along for the ride." I said, trying and failing to make my tone casual. "My credit isn't very good."
You have bound your life to a creature of annihilation. Her mental voice was a calm, steady river of judgment. "Okay, well. In my defense, I had died two seconds before, and it was gacha." I say, "I didn't exactly have a lot of options. I'm not a genius, but I'm pretty sure if I were given a choice I still wouldn't have picked him if I knew he was an option no matter how hot he is."
The man sneered. My words were a fly buzzing in his ear and a very, very unwelcome one, but that was about it.
Even he didn't want to start a fight with me right in front of the dryads, I suppose.
Or maybe he was too tired from the prior struggle still.
...Probably not that. Angus didn't say anything about it, though, not even in one of his little text boxes he'd gotten overly attached to using even when not necessary.
Which meant that the angel boy didn't know the reason.
Definitely.
I haven't known Angus long but I can't imagine him withholding that kind of 'trivia' if he knew it. So the Demon King was probably tired.
Your flippant regard for your own soul is a mortal failing, Whisperwood - for that's what I'd decided to call her until I got another name for her, even if it's probably insulting - thought, her cool presence washing over me. But it is not our concern. Your passage through the heartwood will disrupt my forest. Balance must be restored.
"Extort weaklings. Waste their time as well. Do so doubly and perhaps you will not irritate me enough to reduce this forest to a memory." The Demon King looked down at me. For a half second, he looked as if he was going to tell me to refuse. To push me to do something.
Obviously that was assuming far too much agency, however, as instead he turned on his heel and began to walk away, as if the decision was already made. If there were ever a decision at all. "We don't have all day, wretch."
Whisperwood's gaze did not follow him. It remained fixed on me. Your guide's knowledge is incomplete, she thought, a ripple of something like amusement, though colder and more ancient, flowing through the connection. The path ahead is not what he believes it to be. The price for our passage is service.
"Service?" I asked, my throat dry. "I'm not really the 'service' type. More of a 'sit quietly and hope no one notices me' type."
There is a blight that spreads from the roots of the world-tree. A corruption that feeds on life, on magic. It has taken root in the western boughs. It eats away at the life of this world, not only this forest.
"If I agree to burn away this miserable rot will you cease scrabbling around in my head creaking like a dying willow?"
He sounded...
Really, I couldn't say if it was more bored or exasperated. I'm inclined to think the former.
You will not interfere, the Dryad's thought sharpened, a spear of ice aimed at the demon king. This is a task for the summoner. The touch of your power would only feed it, make it stronger. Your kindred's darkness is its antithesis.
The demon king looked from her to me, his purple eyes narrowing. Then he laughed and shook his head. "This weakling could hardly weed a garden. I doubt she could sort meat from stew. Wither if you wish. Be silent about it before I accelerate it even further." He turned, placing his back to a tree that had grown into a natural, comfortable-looking bench. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Wake me when you're done."
He was dismissing the entire situation. Dismissing me and the dryad both.
But he wasn't walking away yet, nor was he violent.
For whatever reason he wasn't immediately resorting to ultra violence. It wasn't the first time he'd declined to intervene - he'd done so with the boar at first, too - but this one still felt different.
Maybe because I wasn't in a panic.
It might just be that.
Or maybe he was simply too tired. Either way, I was on my own.
"Violet..." Angus's mental plea was a desperate squeak in my head. [The blight! I've read about it! It's like magical cancer! It can turn whole forests into... spooky haunted forests! Very bad! It makes worlds even higher ranked difficulty than before! (;￣Д￣)]
...How could something already in the world make it higher difficulty....?
That doesn't seem like a sensible ranking system to me.
But his wings fluttered behind him enough that I'm surprised he didn't take off into the air.
As calm as the demon king was, Angus had absorbed every bit of the tension for himself, it seemed.
...Which....
I felt like left me in the awkward position of not knowing how to feel at all.