The Ant Nest and the Talkative Sword

I stopped typing mid-message and stole a glance over at Ryun. My axe leaned against the chair, and across from me sat Dobby.

“Back... then... with... Irien... I...”

Hasn't he already told this one?

Sure enough, Dobby sat across from him, nodding along with an exasperated look on his face, as though he'd rather be anywhere else. It was the expression of a goblin half gone from this world. He was probably letting it all drift in one ear and straight out the other even now.

A thin sigh escaped me. Why was it that someone this talkative had never once mentioned Sorien when speaking of the other Ents? Was he embarrassed, being of the same kind? I had no idea.

Not that I could have just stuffed Ryun into the mimic anyway. For one thing, you couldn't put living creatures inside one... and even if it were somehow possible, I never would have. That would have been outright inhumane.

Going by what Heijeong told me, the leaves and branches didn't seem all that useful. The leaves, she said, could be used as hemostatic agents or herbs. The branches could be fashioned into weapons—which we had no way of doing ourselves.

That said, the shop sold them? Were World Trees actually more common than I'd assumed? Come to think of it, how many worlds were there scattered across the universe... Maybe it made sense after all.

Heijeong steered the conversation back to Ryun, and I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kept typing while sneaking wary looks in his direction. It wasn't as though he could read my messages, but my conscience prickled all the same. Fortunately, Ryun paid me no attention whatsoever, absorbed entirely in his conversation with Dobby.

The moment I'd arrived at the Waiting Room I'd gone straight to the training room with Ryun, so I hadn't given it much thought—but I had felt something was off when the floor ended. Six thousand points, even after clearing a hidden mission on a floor with a Sword Master. I wondered if the reward had come in small because I'd persuaded Ryun with words instead of putting him down.

I think I understood what she meant. What you gained inside a floor was often worth more than the achievement points the floor paid out as its reward.

This time, a Sword Master had settled into my axe. His instruction was something fifty thousand points couldn't have bought—and he hung off the blade guiding me in real time, no less. Heijeong was right. It was a far better deal.

Handled well, I could probably even use it to gauge hidden missions on linked floors. Say I picked up a ring, but the achievement points came in low relative to the ring's actual properties—that meant the ring was important, and that it might be needed on the next floor in the chain. Not that I'd usually spot a hidden mission the moment I saw one, but still...

Was that it? Now that she mentioned it, maybe so. The other climbers' forty-first floors had all been trials of handling a single monster. An Ent Sword Master could, in a sense, be classified as one. Which meant the same logic could carry over to the forty-second. Heijeong's forty-second floor had been the destruction of a monster colony—an ant nest, she'd said?

She had a point, and I couldn't argue with it. Where the personal floors of the thirties had been comparatively gentle, the forties were already raising the difficulty to absurd heights. It really was the better choice to spend my time swinging the axe rather than agonizing over what floor 42 might hold.

I pulled up my status window.

The floor-clear reward—a random skill level increase—had landed on Gambler's Composure. It didn't exactly put me in a great mood... but it was a mental skill that helped me keep my composure, so I couldn't complain too much.

Besides, compared to the previous floor, Axe Mastery had climbed by two levels and Combat Focus by one. The duel with Ryun on floor 41 had raised each of them once, and an additional flash of insight in the training room had pushed Axe Mastery up again.

But it still wasn't enough. I still couldn't draw out the Axe Arts.

Axe Mastery was still level nine. I was short on those small, elusive sparks of insight that felt like they were just about to coalesce into something.

When Axe Mastery reached level ten, wouldn't that be when the Axe Arts awakened?

Well, I can't be sure of that...

I got up from the bed. Sleep wouldn't come anyway, and like Heijeong said, I meant to swing the axe that much more. If I was lucky, I might manage to draw out the Axe Arts before setting foot on floor 42.

And I needed to spell Dobby, too. No matter how much he'd grown, unlike me he still needed rest.

“Back... then... Sorien...”

Ryun was still talking away with undiminished enthusiasm. Dobby sat in his chair wearing a look of utter boredom, swinging his feet back and forth for no particular reason. Right. It was time to deliver salvation unto Dobby.

“Ryun, let's head to the training room. I'd like you to check my form.”

At my words, Dobby looked up at me with a face full of pure, undiluted gratitude. It was the look of a man beholding his savior. I gave him a small nod toward the bed.

“Dobby, go sleep.”

“Thank you! I was feeling tired anyway!”

“Oh... me... too... good...... You... remind... me... so... much... of... my... past... self......”

Ryun drawled on, slow as ever. Come to think of it, even his way of speaking seemed slightly different from before we'd grown closer... Or was that just my imagination?

Left alone, he showed every sign of chattering on forever, so I picked up Ryun—or rather, the axe.

“So... impatient... with... your... training... you... take... after... me......”

Axe Mastery Lv10. Axe Arts. Chanting my two goals under my breath, I did my best to tune out Ryun's rambling and walked to the training room.

Amusingly enough, the opponent I'd chosen for combat training was Ryun himself. I had, of course, dialed the difficulty down considerably... I fought him while absorbing his pointers, and less than ten minutes into the session, a deep, sinking regret had already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠settled in.

“You... look... just... like... me... from... sixty... years... ago......”

Ryun's voice carried on, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on, and on.

Well... I'll just trust that it's only because it's still new. Surely, in time, even conversation with Ryun would come to feel normal.

Two hours passed. Unfortunately, I failed to raise Axe Mastery or draw out the Axe Arts.

After all the lengthy explanations I'd grown used to seeing in the notification window, this was a refreshingly sparse one. When it was like this, there was no inferring a hidden mission from the message text. All I could do was follow the window's orders and hunt for the hidden mission as I went.

That aside...

An ant nest for me too, huh.

Just as Heijeong had predicted. Until now my personal floors had always been harder than everyone else's... I couldn't tell whether this was good or bad. My floors were difficult, yes—but they gave back plenty in return.

Hm. Was I just supposed to treat this one as a breather floor?

I cast my gaze around. True to its ant-monster nature, the tunnel was roughly six meters wide. Light spilled in from the passage behind me, but oddly enough, there was no way out—some manner of barrier, it seemed, had been laid across it.

“What... are... you... doing...... Why... aren't... you... moving......”

“Ryun! Suyeok needs time to think at first!”

“Is... that... so......?”

“You have to check what trial the Tower gives you!”

“I... see......”

Ah, right—Ryun still didn't know that I could see the notification window. Well, Dobby had already explained it to him once, so there was no need to go over it again.

I took up Ryun—the axe—in a fresh grip.

“Nothing complicated. We exterminate the ant nest. We just have to kill every ant inside this tunnel.”

“I... see...... So... after... me... comes... a... mere... ant... nest...... Somehow... my... pride... is... not... pleased......”

“It's a little strange for me too.”

I could sympathize with his feelings. Just as he said, there was something inherently funny about an ant nest coming right after a Sword Master. That aside—since this was the same trial the other climbers faced, I'd need something special if I wanted to squeeze out extra achievement points.

Let's see, ten hours on the clock... How about a speedrun—clearing it as fast as I possibly could?

“Right then. Let's move out.”

And a short while later, the moment I came face to face with my first ant monster, I sensed that something here was very, very wrong.