Chapter 341: 341. The Dryad Scrolls

The best way to describe crackling infested lands, Dallion felt, was as if a volcano had erupted, covering everything with ash. Unlike the coast, there were no cities, or green patches, nothing but wilderness and dust, and—on occasion—thickets of rust trees. As surprising as it was, insects and animals still managed to exist adapting to the harsh environment. However, even they were easy to fall prey to the swarms of cracklings and rustlings. On several occasions Dallion watched how a bird would fly by only to suddenly get devoured by a swarm of insectoid cracklings that emerged from the ground only to disappear soon after. Interestingly enough, this suggested that the situation wasn’t that bad. As Nil had said, all the damages were on the surface—the cracklings were still very much bestial and didn’t have the strength to form cities or even villages. With a little effort, a sanitation crew could clean the entire area in a matter of days, the same as Dallion had witnessed during the mansion job. However, that wasn’t what concerned him.

“There’s another forest up ahead.” A crackling sparrow flew up to Dallion from the distance. “We’ll have to go around it.”

“Thanks, Gleam.” Dallion nodded. The shardfly had done a good job of masking him and herself so as not to be detected. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. The city is just beyond that.”

A city next to a rust patch. Not the best location, but the fourth guardian had warned Dallion about that. When the realm was at its height, the city of Ashthorn had been one of the jewels of the world, rivaling the hilt capital itself. After the ruin of the realm, it had turned into a shell of its former self, though instead of being destroyed by cracklings it was infested by rust plants.

You need to eat now and again, Nil reminded.

Later, Dallion replied. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before I get a chance to hunt anything.

I see. So better starve now than starve later?

Dallion grumbled. Food was one of those things he tended to ignore in the awakened realms. It was purely due to the guardian’s insistence that he had taken any—in this case, a bag of berries. Now that he had it, he planned to make them last for as long as possible, which went against Nil’s advice. For some reason, the echo kept insisting that Dallion eat as much as soon as possible.

The branches of the rust trees trembled as Dallion walked past. While Gleam had used her illusion powder to make him appear as a crackling, the plants still didn’t appreciate him being close. In this realm, both rust and cracks fought for resources, making them at best reluctant allies.

“Was there lots of rust during your time?” Dallion asked, his shardfly familiar.

“There’s always been rust,” Gleam replied. “And there always will be. Most of the time it’s harmless. Except at mountain cliffs.”

“Doesn’t look harmless to me.”

“Trust me, it’s harmless. Even when it’s territorial, it doesn’t attack unless provoked. Just be careful when you’re near water.”

It took half a day to get round the forest of rust. On several occasions Dallion was tempted to just go right through. However, each time he took even a step in that direction, the branches of the trees transformed into rustpines. They didn’t attack—as Gleam had said, they were creatures that only reacted when provoked—but they made it clear that moving any closer was a bad idea.

At sunset, the city walls came into sight. They were very different from any Dallion had seen so far. For one thing, they were made completely of wood; not logs, not blocks, not even planks, but the entire wall was one monolithic structure made of wood. No known form of construction here or back on Earth was capable of achieving this. Either it was magic or the method had been lost to the ages. Considering this was a city of dryads, probably both held true.

Anything you can share, shield? Dallion asked.

I’m a companion shield, not an architect, the dryad replied. He seemed unusually amused for some reason. I could make any variety of swords, shields, possibly a bench if I put in a lot of effort into it. It would take someone with skill to make anything bigger.

You’re talking about a Moon cleric?

Clerics could, but also the naturally gifted. Still, couldn’t have been a lot of people in this place. As Duzhd said, other than the guardians, there weren’t a lot of awakened in this place. Whoever it was must have been important.

The question was whether the architect had erected the walls before the inhabitants of the world had been banished, or after.

Judging by its size, the city Ashthorn had a population of millions. At present, it held less than a hundred. Thanks to Dallion’s music skill, he was able to see several clusters of fear glow within the city. Each time he tried to get close, however, the beings would quickly run off, disappearing within buildings or in the sewers beneath the city. It was like trying to catch a newspaper taken by the wind.

As night came, Dallion chose one of the higher buildings to spend the night. In the past, he would have relied on the markers and his guard skills to wake him up at any threat. As things stood, though, he could rely on his familiars. It was also a huge plus that Lux could take the role of a blanket, keeping Dallion warm. Nox and Gleam were also in the room, standing guard. Neither seemed particularly bothered, least of all Nox, who spent the night curled up on the ground, semi-snoozing as well.

When the first lights of dawn crept into the room, the crackling stretched, yawned, then made his way to Dallion and poked him in the face. After several seconds of that, Dallion finally cracked an eye open.

“Finally up?” the shardfly asked. It wasn’t clear who she was referring to exactly.

In response, Dallion stretched and yawned.

“Well, at least I see where Nox got his sleeping habits.” The shardfly fluttered by. “No one came near during the night, just to let you know. I guess they’re afraid of you. or cracklings. Or both.”

“I guess this place doesn’t see many visitors,” Dallion said.

“Actually, it gets nothing but visitors. Everyone who comes here is just passing through. They like to spend the night in safety, just like you.”

“Some safety.” While there weren’t any cracklings, there was rust to spare. Having to resort to this abandoned place wasn’t as bad as being out there, but it wasn’t much better.

After a certain degree of nagging from Nil, Dallion ate a handful of berries, then set on exploring the city. Normally, he’d go through the tall buildings to get a better view of everything. In this case, he decided to check out the places where the other inhabitants had been. It didn’t take long for him to find what passed as the temp shelter. It was one of the wooden buildings. An entire area of the floor was covered with hay, making what could pass as a rough mattress. Marks in the corners indicated places where weapons must have been placed. More important, though, Dallion’s new perception level helped him see the traces on the pavement outside the building.

“Minotaurs,” he noted, sliding a finger over the cold surface.

“Sort of. I didn’t see any horns,” Gleam replied.

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Minotaurs without horns. That suggested that they either were a different species, or rather that they were still young. If they were anything like the ones on the other side of the sea, the minotaurs were probably nomadic in nature… which meant that if anything of value had already been taken. Just to be sure, Dallion had his familiars go over the building in search of hidden spaces, but none were to be found.

Following that, Dallion focused back on the city. The state of the buildings created a deep sense of unease. They were in such a perfect condition that one would expect people to emerge from them at any moment now. However, no people did. The only noise was the sound of the wind passing through the streets.

“Gleam, know what that says?” Dallion asked, standing in front of a three-story stone structure. The wooden sign above the door was very similar to the ones in Nerosal, only written in a language that Dallion couldn’t make out.

“Not a clue.”

Shield?

Tri-flower, the armadil shield replied. Not the best name, though maybe they were going for a more traditional feel. Given that the building’s made of stone, I think this was mostly for tourists.

I thought the guardian said that no one entered the realm.

People always enter. But even if they didn’t, there were local races. You’ve already seen one. Maybe there are more? If so, this is the type of building they’d use: exotic dryad name, standard gorgon architecture.

Gorgon architecture? The phrase made Dallion think of Eury.

Elegant, simplistic, and relying on stone. The gorgons introduced that type of architecture. In any event, I’d say this is an inn or tavern. More likely an inn. Taverns are fancier on the inside.

An inn. Dallion looked at the building. He could see it serving that purpose, although it wasn’t the place he’d visit when coming to the city. It seemed too out of place for an inn. More than likely, it was the equivalent of a cheap Earth motel. To Dallion, it seemed more like a barracks or even a prison.

Not your thing? The armadil shield asked.

No, but there’s one place I’d like to go.

Oh?

Does this place have a library?

There should be a building or two, but not sure you’d be able to call it a library. I don’t think any books would have survived this long.

As it turned out, the shield was half right. The building was the size of a small palace, as he had suggested. Spanning over an entire block, it had three major entrances, and more rooms than days in the year. There were no books or scrolls, of course, even the shelves that had been stored on were missing. However, there was one thing the looters of centuries past couldn’t take: the entrance to a hidden realm. Finding it wasn’t easy. Dallion himself had only noticed by accident while going from room to room.

The entrance itself was little more than a crack hidden among the patterns of the wooden texture. It didn’t take much for Nox to claw the entrance open, revealing a whole new section of the library. The major difference was that this one was filled with rows of shelves, each of which contained dozens of wooden cylinders.

Slightly overcautious, Dallion spent a good while walking through the new area, expecting to trigger the appearance of a protector. There didn’t seem to be any. Likewise, there didn’t seem to be any obvious treasure either, or anything made of matter for that matter.

Any idea what this is? Dallion took a wooden cylinder from the shelves.

I haven’t seen one of those since I was a child, the armadil said. They’re dryad scrolls. The one you’re holding is a historical record of this place.

That’s a bit convenient, Dallion said, examining the piece of wood from all sides.

Hardly. It’s volume eight-hundred and two.

Oh… Dallion looked at the shelf. Quite possibly, the entire room was filled with historical records pertinent to this realm. How do you read it?

You don’t. It’s a dryad scroll. You need to be a dryad to get it to morph to its legible form. As it is now, I can only read the title.

So, you’re saying you need to be here in order to read it?

Pretty much, yes. Unless you have hidden skills I’m not aware of.

What if I send the scroll to you?

It doesn’t work that way. I need the physical scroll, not a metal copy.

I wasn’t talking about a copy. What if I send you all the scrolls here?

In theory, that’s a great idea. It’ll give me something to do, not to mention Gen will be pleased you’ve come up with a use for another room in your realm. Now sure how you’ll pull it off, though.

I don’t need to pull it off. Vermillion does.

The moment he said that, the wooden cylinder vanished from Dallion’s hand, appearing within his realm. Up to now he had only suspected that the ring could have such powers, but now he knew for sure; moving small items between realms was not only possible, but easy. And if Dallion could acquire one dryad scroll, there was nothing preventing him from acquiring them all.

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