Chapter 122: 120. Returns

The glowing mushroom is truly beautiful, and exactly what you were hoping for. Charlemagne's talk about mushrooms growing in the caves awakened a need you never new about – one for giant, glowing mushrooms. Really, all caves should have them. The soft luminescence picks out the corners of the room, casting surprisingly harsh shadows around every loose rock and stalagmite. More places for critters to hide.

That thought pulls you up short.

Maybe you should get out of here? The larder designation has spread, this whole area is an insect spawning zone.

With that line of reasoning nipping at your heels, you beat a hasty retreat, back behind the safety of the locked, reinforced doors that keep your entire dungeon from being overrun.

… you know maybe you didn't fully think this through. Bit late to change it now, but the insects are already a force equal to any other part of your lair when heroes attack. Tripling their territory and spawning locations could genuinely cause you to be overrun. You'd like to think that they're nominally on your side, they did help in the fight that killed Amanda, but you also eat them. If you were a bug, you'd kinda resent being eaten. On the other hand, they are 'critter' class mobs, so maybe they don't have the intelligence to wonder?

You shake the thoughts off. Until such a time as the spiders unionise and come to you with demands, you're going to work under the assumption that they're not smart enough to vote.

Your slightly bizarre thought process is cut short, thankfully, by a goblin. A new one, still unnamed. He stops a short distance away from you, dithers for a moment, then bows awkwardly.

“Lord Red Scale, you has visits.”

You blink, then speak.

“Visitors?”

The goblin nods, beaconing you to follow.

“She say you be missing her big time, she feel you frus-tat-on from forest.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a massive grin spread over your face. Only one woman you know would say something like that. You blow past the goblin, leaping through the air with wings half unfurled, carrying you in great bounding glides through your dungeon.

And there she is. Mercy has a small smirk on her face as she squats next to the pool, talking to a still muddy Sapphire and Feathers.

That.. could pose a problem later but for now you're just happy she's home.

She turns at the sound of your claws on stone, and her smirk softens into a genuine smile as she sees you. Even the mock glare Sapphire shoots your way doesn't hold up, the tiny kobold just shaking her head after a second, and dunking herself under water to scrub off.

The half-dryad turns to face you fully as you bring yourself to a stop next to her. She's dressed in the same tavern-wench-esque outfit she seems to favour, and both is and she look clean and damage free. Not that that says much about her journey, as she can heal herself and summon outfits.

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you bump your head against hers.

“Missed you too, Red.” she mutters, her hand coming up to ghost along your chin.

Feathers coughs, from the water, and Mercy removes her hand, pulling herself up to look down at you with an imperious frown.

“But no trying to get around your sex ban with me! You'll never learn without consequences!”

You level a flat glare at the gobliness now lazily swimming backstroke across the pool, then shake your head and turn back to Mercy.

“So I gather you had a bit of an adventure out there?”

She snorts, waving a hand. “Oh bits and pieces. Seems you had a wild ride here too. But first, here.”

Mercy has given you
1230 Stone!
1 Challenge Lock!

You raise an eyebrow.

“I am... very certain I did not give you enough shit to get all of this.”

Mercy smirks. “It's hard for a lonely woman, travailing the realm. Someone with a touch of healing magic and an active imagination can make a fair bit of money on the road. I assumed you'd rather I get more stone than bring back the cash?”

You nod. “Yeah, we just had to burn our entire stock just to handle the influx of goblins I'm sure you know nothing about.”

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She chuckles. “I might have sent a problem your way. I was sure you could deal with it though!”

“We did. Feathers ripped his dick off in the arena.”

Mercy blinks. “Wait... like, literally?”

“Yup. He didn't think women could be chiefs.”

“What happened to him?” she asks in morbid curiosity.

You shrug. “Cauterised the wound and dumped him in the forest somewhere I think. It's what she wanted.”

Mercy lets out a snort of laughter.

“Fucker exposed himself when I was passing through their village. Thought he was the god's gift to womankind. How do you even get like that?”

You shrug. “He was a chief of a decently sized tribe. He probably could throw his weight around some. Now he's got nothing. No tribe, no resources, no faction.”

She grins.

“Knew you guys could handle it. Anything not me related happen?”

“We got some more demons. Apparently Carnifexia has fallen to tranquillity. We got a few of his imps.”

Mercy's mirth vanishes. “Yeah. It's subtle, but it's still spreading out there. Little pockets of forest are no-go zones. I don't think the heroes have realised yet, there's barely any chatter about it out there.”

You nod as she speaks.

“We also had a visit from a secretary of lusts, sent to open trade negotiations.”

You're met with silence.

“Mercy?”

“'The Secretary'? Did... did you agree to anything?”

“No, I wasn't going to sign anything without you around to double check things. Why?”

Mercy shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

“If she comes back... if she comes back, don't let her in. For me. Don't let her in.”

---

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