Hydragon Enhancement

Hydragon Enhancement.

The sewers dungeon of Arcana, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Golden City.

The rewards for a dungeon that normally required Level 8 at minimum had jumped a full two tiers.

There were only four items on the list — but that was more than enough.

All of them essentials.

Was it because these were two-tier-upgraded rewards from clearing a Level 8 dungeon? They felt like a curated collection of nothing but critical treasures.

I studied the reward list one by one.

First, the Seal of Wind was a talisman. It boosted Agility and reduced wind resistance, making it a foundational piece that any assassin- or archer-type class absolutely had to pick up.

The Mutant Captain's Hook and the Black Iron Dagger were high-grade secondary weapons — almost certainly the best equipment drops available anywhere in these sewers. Hook-type secondaries usually granted bonus options to seafaring classes, and handing the Black Iron Dagger to Isabella would translate into an immediate spike in combat power.

But the one that truly caught my eye was the last entry: the Mutant Monster Rat's Core.

A shame it isn't a soul — but this is useful in its own right.

If a Mutant Monster Rat's soul had dropped, I would have cheered out loud. Even so, the core had plenty of applications. Mutant-type cores, in particular, carried the single most important function of all.

A hidden option visible only to someone who held the Hidden Trait Beast Lord.

The ability to reinforce a soul — that was this core's single most critical function.

The Hydragon is a beast-type Boss Monster too.

Lore-wise, the Hydragon was a synthesis of every kind of beast the mad scientist had ever created. That meant it could be enhanced with a Mutant Monster Rat's Core.

But even I had never possessed a Hydragon's soul before. What would happen if I reinforced a twelve-person-scale Raid Boss Monster? I couldn't even begin to guess.

…There's something I don't know.

Standing before the unknown, a smile rose to my lips unbidden. The Heart of the Iron-Blooded Lord should have made excitement impossible — and yet I was excited all the same.

For the past five years I had played Pangenia almost without a single day of rest. I was the gamer who had played this world the longest, and it was no exaggeration to say I had it mapped down to the bone.

And still, Pangenia held endless things I did not know. An insane difficulty that seemed impossible to clear — and yet it always ignited a fierce hunger for the challenge. Behind that hunger lay this very unknown, this mystery.

…No wonder I could never quit this game.

Of course, there was every chance that enhancing it would produce no special change at all. But I loved even that possibility.

So was there any reason left to deliberate?

I bought an entire four-wheeled carriage — ordering the toughest, sturdiest materials available. With Hudson's money, of course. The horses to pull it, however, I prepared myself.

"……"

Hudson sat inside the carriage, head lifted, staring fixedly ahead. The reason his gaze and his mind had both been stolen at once was the creature driving the carriage. He gaped like a goldfish, mouth opening and closing in a daze.

That… is a horse?

What was a horse, after all? A horse was a horse — a four-legged animal, the fastest and most enduring of livestock. But what stood before him was no ordinary horse.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

The ground shuddered with every step. A body of staggering size. A monster with nine heads.

That's not a horse — that's a Hydragon…?

When the Saint had said he would prepare the horses himself, Hudson had bought the carriage without a second thought. Only when they were ready to leave Arcana did he learn what the Saint had meant by "horse."

It was a Hydragon. And not some crude, manufactured imitation — a completed form summoned through a soul.

A Boss Monster inscribed upon a soul retained its primordial shape intact. Even creatures of similar appearance, even of similar level, could not begin to compare in sheer rank.

And yet the prevailing wisdom had always been that a Hydragon's soul simply did not exist. A chimera was something made. How could it possess a primordial form?

But it did. A Hydragon, summoned by a soul.

……What is that?

Hudson's eyes climbed to the top of one of the Hydragon's heads. Among the nine, the central head bore a horn as long as an elephant's tusk — another trait no ordinary Hydragon possessed.

Ziiing.

KRA-KOOM!

"Aaaagh!"

"S-save me!"

"Run!"

The screams outside belonged to a bandit company camped near Arcana. One of the great bandit gangs that plagued every merchant traveling to and from the city — a symbol of terror — and the Hydragon was slaughtering them like so many gnats.

Especially the lightning that fired from that horn. A single compression of power, a single discharge, and more than a dozen bandits evaporated without leaving so much as bone dust behind. The destructive force rivaled a mid-tier lightning skill at the very least.

"It's noisy out there."

"……Those are the screams of the Red Hood Bandits."

"Is that so? Nothing of consequence, then."

The Saint closed his eyes again.

Nothing of consequence?

……That sound?

"Please, spare me!"

"Kyaaaaah!!"

"Moooom!!!"

Over roughly ten days we crossed seven warps and passed through two high-risk, high-level zones. We had traversed nearly half the Central Continent — and still, finding what I wanted was no easy task.

"Not this one either?"

"Mm. Already dead."

I spoke while looking at the blue-tinged tree before us. The tree itself was not dead, but the Spirit Path had already closed.

A Spirit Tree. That was what I was searching for — a tree upon which a spirit had been born. Such a tree temporarily opened a path into the Spirit Realm, and only by stepping onto that path could one reach the Spirit Tower.

The tree before us had birthed its spirit long ago. The path was shut.

"To my eyes, it doesn't look much different from any other tree……"

To Hudson, this so-called Spirit Tree was indistinguishable from the rest. What difference could there possibly be?

I clicked my tongue softly.

"No choice, then. We'll have to take the risk."

I could not afford to waste any more time. I drew Michela's blade. Hudson and Isabella stepped back a pace, and I swung the sword in a great arc, shearing the tree clean through.

KRUM!

The trunk split at the waist and toppled.

In that instant —

Hyaaaaaaah!

Sounds that were half scream and half moan rose from the entire forest.

"D-Dryads! You've got to be kidding me!"

Hudson yanked out his hammer and scanned the surroundings. Moments later, a host of Dryads emerged — lower bodies of deer, upper bodies of humans.

"To fell a tree that bore a spirit."

"Humans have lost all fear."

"Tear them apart and kill them."

They were half-fairies. The forest's wardens.

Monsters of Level 7 and above — more than fifty of them. A tree that had conceived a fairy was deeply symbolic to their kind. Having cut it down, we would not be allowed to leave alive.

"……"

Hudson swallowed hard, tense. Isabella had settled into a combat stance as well. Instinct told her that a fight against numbers like these would be anything but easy.

I walked slowly forward to face them.

"Open the Gate. Do so, and I will gift a new spirit to this forest."

"The human spouts nonsense."

"Has he gone mad?"

Several Dryads nocked arrows. If none of them could be reasoned with, this gamble was already lost.

I spoke again.

"This tree's spirit is already dead. This forest is dying with it. I am a Druid, master of spirits — I can gift your forest a new one."

Forests were born of spirits. When a spirit died, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the forest died. And the spirit of this forest had perished long ago. Without a new spirit, the woods would eventually wither away entirely.

But that argument only worked if someone was willing to listen. Whether these simple, tree-guarding Dryads could even comprehend my words was the real question.

"Shoot him dead."

"Pierce him through."

"Kill first, talk later!"

……These thickheaded bastards.

Was there no other way? At this rate I would have to open a portal and return to Arcana. More than ten days of effort, about to evaporate in an instant —

"Wait. I will hear you out, self-proclaimed Druid."

I turned my gaze.

A High Dryad with a full beard. He seemed to be the master of this place — the Rustling Forest. I had taken it for just another stretch of woods, but the presence of a High Dryad suggested the spirit born when this forest was made had been a considerable one.

Fortunate, at least.

This one looked like he might actually listen.

"Is what you say true?"

"It is. Open the Gate, and I will go to the Spirit Tower and bring a spirit back for this forest."

"We cannot open the Gate to the Spirit Tower ourselves."

"But you still keep the spirit's remains, don't you?"

"……"

The High Dryad's mouth clamped shut. His eyes asked how I could possibly know that. But of course I did. They would never simply scatter a dead spirit through the forest. There was always the chance it might revive, or conceive a new spirit — so they would keep it.

"How are we to trust that you are a Druid?"

"How else do you think I found this tree and cut it down?"

Only a Druid could distinguish a Spirit Tree. The High Dryad looked from the felled trunk to me and back again, his brow furrowing.

"If you are lying, you will become nourishment for this forest."

"And if I'm telling the truth?"

"……Then you will receive a reward befitting it."

Battle with the Forest, was it? I shrugged at the grandiose message.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

What they produced as the spirit's remains was a rough, unworked stone. It seemed the forest spirit had also been a spirit of rock.

The path is still there.

I could see it — the Spirit Path etched into the stone. Another of a Druid's gifts. A Druid could commune with spirits and open their paths.

But the entrance was far too narrow and small. There was only one way to widen it, even temporarily.

"I'll have to smash it to get inside."

"……"

The High Dryad's eyes trembled finely. This stone was a spirit's corpse. Destroy it, and it would be gone forever.

He finally forced the words out.

"If you are lying……"

"Kill me."

It was Hudson who reacted to my clean, unhesitating answer. He trembled, eyes screaming What are you saying, Saint?!

Permission had been granted either way. All that remained was to shatter the stone.

Thud!

I clenched my fist and brought it down.

Thud!

Blow after blow, and I could see the gate widening, if only for a moment.

Ziiiiiing!

A golden portal bloomed above the stone.

At the portal's mouth, beyond the threshold, a golden spirit stood guard — a charming little thing clad in golden armor and helm. Then the spirit pointed at me.

Only I was to enter.

But I looked from Hudson to Isabella and back again. The golden spirit hesitated a moment, then spoke.

"Companions of the Druid?"

I nodded. The golden spirit spoke again.

"Partners to whom you would entrust your back — and your life?"

I nodded once more.

"Then I permit them to enter with you."

Fwaaah!

The portal swelled larger. And in that same fleeting instant —

I looked at the message announcing the start of Main Quest 3, and a smile touched the corner of my mouth.