Chapter 152: Nature's Wrath 1
Chapter 152: Nature's Wrath 1
The word "elf" conjures certain images.
Not that Japanese-style elf, or whatever—the kind that's basically just a pair of tits with pointy ears.
The book that left the deepest impression on me in my previous life was The Lord of the Rings.
So I picture rangery types in the deep woods, tall and lanky with enormous bows,
or quick, fluid figures dual-wielding swords or gripping daggers,
or something half-druidic, commanding spirits.
Riding around on white reindeer or wolves,
thick with forest spirits like ents and dryads,
a race of nature-attuned warriors who are also,
fundamentally, archers who will put an arrow right between your eyes if you get mouthy.
Something like that. That's the basic picture.
Which is why the scene before me felt so alien.
"Hm, let's see—Angel's Trumpet, black belladonna, hm..."
Unfamiliar flowers kept popping up beside the World Tree.
Ranging from soft blush-pink to a violet so dark it was nearly black.
To the eye, nothing but delicate, pretty blossoms.
But the body I'd reshaped into an elf understood on pure instinct:
lay a finger on any of these without the plants' consent, and you'd be a dead man.
"So, those flowers. What are they?"
"You're saying we can invade each other's Sanctums?"
"Right?"
Heart of the Exiled Serpent and I could slip into one another's Sanctums.
But anything we tried to set up or steal—any physical interference—got reverted,
and the moment the Sanctum's owner returned, we'd be forcibly ejected.
Given these constraints, the idea the Unfading Giant Tree settled on was elegantly simple.
Plant the booby traps in my Sanctum instead of his.
"So, how about this? I'll place a bunch of flowerpots in your Sanctum, and you can just stay at the Academy."
With a bright smile, she lifted a small pot.
A pale-green stalk tipped by a soft pink flower that seemed to gaze upward at the sky.
It looked like a morning glory, and the name really was Angel's Trumpet.
If an animal brushed against it, it let out a faint trumpet note and released its pollen.
Said pollen induced lethal hallucinations and fatal dehydration,
until the animal collapsed forever at the base of the stalk and turned to mulch.
After that, a whole parade of equally vicious specimens appeared.
Most were the type where bare-handed contact meant smearing yourself with pollen or sap
that triggered paralysis, blindness, dehydration, diarrhea and vomiting, muscle relaxation or spasms.
They looked like tiny jewel-bead seeds, or fine blossoms the size of a fingernail,
and as she rattled off the descriptions, I nearly found myself taking an involuntary step backward.
I knew my body couldn't be harmed.
But listening to that litany of carnage, you can't help flinching.
"Hm, would he actually touch these?"
"His study is decorated in an old-fashioned style, and I'm told he's vain. But the fact that he stole something rare-looking without hesitation suggests a lack of real refinement. If I leave out a few things that are popular as ornamental pieces, he'll probably get his hands on at least one. Ah—should I go with small bonsai rather than flowers or fruit? Gallows Tendrils is too ugly, so maybe this one instead..."
Rat-tat-tat-tat. She spat the words like sub-machine-gun fire.
By the time I blinked, the beautiful garden had warped into something out of a horror film, an overgrown, decrepit manor.
Vines that strangle anyone who passes too close to their roots? Straight out of a movie script.
Shrinking a little at the gruesome commentary, I posed a question.
"So, I'm not in any danger here?"
"Huh? Why would they attack an elf?"
She laughed out loud, as though I'd said something preposterous.
Right. An elf, attacked by plants.
She must have felt like she was staring at a very young child who'd just asked why the baby fish didn't drown in the water.
As if to soothe my anxiety, she waved her slender fingers.
She tapped a flower here, caught hold of a vine there and shook it as casually as a handshake.
Pollen and toxins did not, come spraying out.
Instead, the flowers and vines shed a few seeds, which she pressed into my palm.
"A few pots—no, wait. You can make pots, can't you?"
"I can."
"Then let's take these little ones first and try planting them."
Seeds of toxic plants capable of everything from hallucinations to blindness,
handed over the way a kindergarten teacher hands snacks to a child.
It felt wrong, but I chalked it up to the peculiar sensibilities of elves and let it go.
Ten-odd seeds rested in my grip.
Amazing how something so tiny—each one barely the length of a finger joint—could be so dangerous.
Not that I expected to kill Heart of the Exiled Serpent with them.
Shabby as he was, he remained a Constellation who could handle mana.
Still, toxic herbs of this caliber could certainly make him regret his life choices.
Enough to pay him back for the infirmary gambit and the car-sex ambush on the way home from school.
Satisfied, I shaped a small pouch out of mana, something like a lucky bag.
Harmless or not, it felt wrong to just drop poisonous seeds straight into my pocket.
"So, is there anything else I can help with?"
"Anything else?"
I thought about it. Nothing sprang to mind.
That wasn't to say her abilities wouldn't be useful.
The problem, rather, lay in the fact that she was an exceptionally old and powerful Constellation.
Even a Constellation freshly dragged into this flat world had to dump staggering offerings just to conduct a Descent at the Academy.
So how much would it cost to summon the Unfading Giant Tree, a mid-tier-grade Incarnation?
An elf who could quicken plants, commune with beasts and greenery,
and bestow the World Tree's blessing upon people.
The Academy stood to benefit enormously, not just me.
But whether that benefit justified shoveling in tens of billions of won in budget—that I was less sure of.
"I think I have a rough idea what you're thinking."
Had my furrowed brow during all that deliberation given me away?
Grinning again, she extended her index finger and gently rubbed the spot between my eyebrows.
"When I say I'll help, that doesn't mean I'm offering to come to the Academy."
Either she was unnervingly perceptive, or my face was just that obvious.
When I'm in my large form, I like to think I project a stoic image.
but, in the body of an elf boy, I kept feeling utterly transparent.
Hm—was it because we were both elves?
People say East Asians can't tell Westerners apart,
and Westerners can't tell East Asians apart.
"Ah, then—"
Feeling the deep-set rigidity of my own thinking,
I desperately churned my mental gears.
It was the way she looked at me, smiling as if I were cute—
something about male pride had been pricked.
First the poison-plant lecture, now the Descent conversation—
in front of her, I kept getting treated like a little kid.
if you measured purely by actual age, I was a little kid.
"The captured Incarnation—we've got an alchemist working on him, running all kinds of tests. Would you have any medicinal herbs that might help with that?"
"I certainly do. Most are the hallucination-inducing sorts, but properly refined, they make an excellent truth serum. We used them against Demon King Army spies and traitors who tried to flee the forest—they should work quite well on a subdued Incarnation. Beyond that, I have catalysts useful for alchemists, catalysts useful for mages, and flowers that can even be used in rituals. Take them with you."
Like a teacher handing a prize to a grade-schooler who'd given the right answer,
her face softened into a faint smile as she produced yet another batch of items.
She'd already known my circumstances, apparently.
Dried plant fragments in various pouches.
Handed over with the remark that the alchemist and Lee Ha-rin would know what to do with them.
Seeing that knowing smile, I almost asked, How did you know?
Then, just before the words left my mouth, I remembered: Jeong Ah-rin, who had arrived with Han Ye-ji,
was her Incarnation—and a druid.
Since her own Incarnation was managing the captured target,
it was only natural that the Constellation would be in the loop.
Honestly, I'd been too busy enjoying myself watching the farmers and touring the Academy.
"So. Need anything else?"
She wore a smug, can-you-top-that grin.
Faced with that distinct expression, the impulse to tease her right back flickered up.
She was treating me like a little brother, and there was one surefire way to put a stop to that.
"Something I need? Yeah, there is."
"Hm? What else could there be?"
She'd probably expected me to thank her and take my leave,
because her eyes went round at the suggestion I needed something else.
But I wasn't about to settle for giving her a little startle.
I let the herb pouch drop—thump—to the ground and took a step forward.
A deep breath. The fragrance of grass and flowers tickled my nose pleasantly.
"Uh—mmph?!"
Seizing the advantage of my shrunken body, I looped an arm around her neck and kissed her.
Lips sealed fast against that petal-soft mouth, tongue tapping lightly against hers.
Like a spring bud bursting into bloom in an instant,
her fair cheeks flushed vivid red before I knew it.
"Hh-ah—you, you—"
She must have realized this deliberate, unhurried kiss was payback for being toyed with,
because she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and shot me a sullen glare.
But what could she do?
The outer shell was elf, but the contents were still Dream Demon.
And deeper still slumbered a sex drive that had survived nuclear war without dimming in the slightest.
"This kind of prank, honestly—"
She'd been about to snap something, eyes sharpening at the corners,
but when I wrapped my whole body around hers and pushed my lips forward again, she didn't turn away.
So what if she teased me in broad daylight and treated me like a child?
A man only needs to win at night, doesn't he?
There's a reason the phrase "lose the battle, win the war" exists.