Chapter 130: The Constellation's Power 2
Chapter 130: The Constellation's Power 2
A tiny stature, barely topping 160 centimeters.
A delicate frame I could fully envelop with a single arm.
Her every movement carried that supple, fluid grace unique to elves.
"Hnn..."
Cradling her in one arm left room to spare.
I'd gotten big. Absurdly so.
That, in any case, was the Unfading Giant Tree's appearance.
Sure, whenever I recalled the time she got swept into a Nightmare alongside Han Ye-ji's team—
swinging World Tree roots to shatter concrete walls,
ripping into an Origin and driving a Dream Demon to the brink of death—
it was clear she had more than enough power to protect herself.
Just as I was Lethargic Nightmare,
she had her reasons for being named 'Giant Tree.'
But what could I say?
People—and especially me—are easily swayed by what they see.
I contracted Han Ye-ji because I saw her smile.
I contracted Lee Ha-rin because I saw that fanatical effort.
And Kim Ha-eun? She got a contract because I saw her pushing her body past its limit.
That ought to tell you how much appearances sway me.
'Let's be real: I spent over a decade holed up in an apocalypse world.'
I had my excuses.
I'd lived in a world where opening your eyes each morning showed you cracked concrete,
where every footstep meant radioactive monsters.
The most beautiful thing I could look at was an ash-smudged Maxim magazine cover,
and the most horrifying... too many to pick just one.
The heap of heat-fused corpses being puppeted around by a parasitic monster on dozens of palm-like growths was the most memorable, I'll say that.
"Here, look at that."
She'd been fanning her flushed face with her hand.
Now she turned her head, relaxed her arm, and—having darted out of my embrace moments before—
waved those tiny palms at the screen mounted above the carved wooden dresser.
'Do all Constellations get one of these?'
Loyal Fang just had a tent dangling in his space.
Mulling that over, I gazed at the screen.
It showed a desolate road.
But a massive sign dominated the view.
Evidently, we hadn't pinpointed the exact location from the precognitive dream right away.
"What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Ah, just a moment."
Tap-tap. Slender fingers danced across the screen.
Unlike me—used to keyboards, mice, and gamepads—
her fingers were far more accustomed to manipulating magic. Maybe that was it.
With each motion, the image zoomed and panned.
The sign grew nearer, the perspective tightening.
I'd thought it was large, but it was far bigger than I'd imagined—
a roadside billboard standing meters high, like something out of a Western movie.
And beneath it, a single tiny flower bloomed.
'A dandelion?'
Pale green leaves splayed in every direction,
with bright yellow petals unfurling slowly above them.
The leaf shape wasn't quite right for a dandelion, but—
'Why is she showing me this?'
Even if the men of this world doted on flowers and dolls, why now?
As I wondered, the flower began to wilt.
No—it was transforming into seeds.
Turns out it was a dandelion-like species after all:
the rounded petals vanished, replaced by a downy globe of seed.
Then, with a puff, the wind sweeping the wilderness tore the fluff apart.
And that was it.
The road itself stretched thousands of kilometers,
with hundreds of branches leading toward the Northern Continent's military bases.
What could a single dandelion blooming in that vast emptiness possibly accomplish?
"What is that?"
"Just a little longer—"
I asked, and she flashed a confident grin.
A reaction like that should have been infuriating, but seeing her smile melted any irritation away.
It was that familiar, mischievous smile she always wore when anticipation lifted the corners of her lips,
a self-assured grin that said she was itching to see my startled face after springing a prank.
She hadn't wasted my time yet, so I could wait.
"Um, shouldn't you be watching the screen?"
I'd poured a little tease into my stare, drilling into her until I saw her ears flush red. Then I turned my gaze back.
The screen now showed flowers blooming in different colors.
From round yellow petals to elongated soft-pink ones,
from rose-red blooms to magnolia-white blossoms.
The riot of colors all shared one trait.
Once a bud fully bloomed,
a downy cluster of seeds took its place.
Only then did I understand what I was watching.
'Inelegant, but effective.'
The flowers might wilt, but their roots would keep plunging down, and down.
It was a method befitting the Elf Constellation, drawing on the World Tree's power.
The flowers were sprouting along the roadway.
In under thirty seconds, buds unfurled into full bloom;
in less than a minute, hundreds of seed-fluffs scattered on the wind.
It felt like watching a documentary in fast-forward.
I'd been staring blankly for only ten minutes or so,
but by now the screen's viewpoint had begun climbing.
The truck-sized billboard shrank to a dot.
And across the screen spread a wash of delicate, vivid hues—
the flowers had seemingly fanned out ten kilometers to either side.
"See? Now we just wait."
Her voice carried a breathless, slightly winded edge as she smiled.
I pulled my eyes from the screen and looked at her again:
fresh sweat already beaded on the forehead I'd wiped moments ago.
Well, she was carpeting a barren wilderness in flowers; exhaustion was inevitable.
Watching her, I patted my thigh.
The fair face, understanding instantly, flushed crimson once more.
"Oh—no, I mean—why?"
"Just showing my thanks."
Wrapping ourselves around each other when I was small had its pleasures,
but tucking her into my arms now that I loomed large had its own distinct appeal.
Watching her plop onto my thick thigh like a log bench brought the thought home.
'Damn, it really is thick.'
Sure, her body was compact—but still a woman's body, with curves where they belonged and softness where it counted.
How could I seat a person on one thigh and still have room to spare?
I breathed in the grassy scent rising from her as I watched the screen.
She squirmed a bit, as if self-conscious.
Since her first man—me—had stayed in an elf's body whenever we were together,
this hulking male form must have been unfamiliar to her.
Gentle fingertips traced my forearm, exploring it like a curiosity.
Which sent a predictable surge of tension low in my gut.
Thankfully, she was seated facing outward, her bottom rested on my thigh,
so the Unfading Giant Tree had no way of seeing what was happening near my crotch.
Her fingers wandered idly over the muscles and sinews of my forearm
before she relaxed, leaning back against my chest.
What exactly was appealing about a texture more boulder than flesh, I couldn't guess.
And so we passed a languid stretch of time, touching each other's bodies in idle exploration.
On the screen, the blossoms spread across the wasteland like ink bleeding through fabric.
We stayed locked in that embrace, watching the flowers advance
from a height so great even the road had vanished, let alone individual buds.
Shift. The girl in my arms flicked her fingers.
The view plunged downward at speed, refocusing on a cluster of people.
Found them already? But what appeared was a family.
"Dad, Dad!"
Maybe they were heading to visit the kids' mother, a soldier stationed at the base?
There was nothing else in that direction except the military facility.
Two children scrambled out of the car's back doors.
A man, leisurely stretching the kinks from his body, stepped out of the driver's seat.
"What's going on?"
"Look at this! Look!"
The scene fit my stereotype of a Russian-flavored Northern Continent perfectly.
The children, pretty as little dolls,
and their father—blond-haired, blue-eyed—completed the picture.
'Looks like the future's been altered a little already.'
In the precognitive dream, these children had seen a very different scene.
In that dream, they hadn't wept at a flower field filling the wilderness;
they'd cried while watching orbital strikes from a battleship melt the wasteland.
There'd been no frantic flight from a scorching blast wave.
One child plucked a flower to bring to Mom, then got scolded for touching something suspicious-looking and pulled a teary face—that much was... acceptable.
A father's nagging was a lot gentler than a space battleship's orbital bombardment.
I was still watching the screen when—
"Oh, found it?"
"Already?"
She jolted in my arms.
Even with the flowers growing at supernatural speed, the sheer scale should've made it impossible this fast.
I glanced down, but she looked even more startled than I was.
"I found it, but..."
"Hm, something's weird?"
"Yeah. There are way, way too many."
Her small face tilted up, eyes meeting mine from within my arms.
What did it mean, finding so many hidden underground chambers in a desolate wilderness?
The world held more than one criminal.
She must have reached the same conclusion, because she sprang up from my lap
and rushed toward the World Tree.
'Needs the World Tree to issue a new command beyond "bloom," I guess?'
The view tightened again, flower buds refilling the screen.
And with them, figures burst from the ground, covered in dust.
"What the hell is this?!"
"Ah, crap. Gonna have to seal the entrance and redo the whole setup?"
They were spooked by the sudden field of flowers in the wilderness,
but maybe they didn't think they were being hunted?
Figures in hoodies and masks muttered curses
as they crept out, clutching shovels and hoes.