The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Vitmori POV

I was able to form a bond with the siblings, and they both seemed to take to having a manaheart surprisingly well. I was just happy to have had some practice making sure that the process was painless for them thanks to the examples provided to me by Rita and Reyvyre. I didn't grant them any sort of names or titles, doing my best to replicate the same method I had done with Grimm to simply form the bond without any odd details or weird things for them to question. They were of course exhausted by the experience as was expected, so I made sure to at least help them set out their bedrolls before making my way out of the stone hut and leaving them to rest.

Back out in the open now I looked among the camp before making my way over to Legosi and gently patting the top of his head. He leaned into the touch for a moment before looking up at me with a wolfish smile. 'So, Krys and Ren have joined us in your service?' He asked knowingly, and I could tell he had sensed the change from where he sat.

I just bob my head once before pulling my hand away. 'Yes, though they haven't been told everything yet... Just be mindful of them, keep yourself nonverbal for now but feel free to show off your awareness if you want.' I mused a bit before looking down at him with a smile as well.

He nodded in response, his tail slowly swaying some more as he looked out beyond the stone entryway he'd be sitting by. 'I'll do my best Vitmori.' He thought to me before glancing at his side, his sword noticeably missing since I felt it might attract too much attention in town. He then glanced at me, not really thinking to me but his mind was on his sword.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I patted his side. 'Fine, you can carry it again. At least while we're on the road, these folks shouldn't question us all too much about most things anyways.' With that, I pulled out the sword and custom sheathe from my storage before taking a knee and working to snuggly strap it to his side before pulling away. 'There we go, how does that feel?'

Legosi's tail was actively swaying now as he smiled some more before bobbing his head a few times. 'It feels great to have it again.' He thought rather cheerfully.

I just gently pat his head before double-checking his straps one more time and standing again. 'Glad to hear it buddy, don't stay up all night, between the two of us I'm the only one who doesn't actually need to sleep.'

He nodded at that, looking up at me once again. 'Of course, Vitmori. I'll only be up for a little while longer.'

I stepped away, looking around the camp before spotting Lostrill and Rantz starting to gather the dishes. Making my way over, I look between them before flashing a bit of a smile. "Don't worry about all that, you all should get some sleep and rest up, I'll handle the dishes myself."

Lostrill looked uncertain about whether or not he should let me trouble myself with such menial chores, though Rantz just flashed a bit of a smile and bobbed his head. "Sure, thanks, Vito." Wiping his hands on his pants, he stood before looking up into my eyes again. "By the way, I wanted to touch base with you in regards to who will be taking the night watch. Cecil of course has his wards up, but we should have a couple shifts with someone actively awake just in case anything were to happen beyond the wards or anything else like that."

I couldn't help but admire how professionally Rantz carried himself, he reminded me of me when I was his age, though perhaps he wasn't as stoic or serious as I was. "You don't need to worry about that, just help guard the carts during the day while you can. While I can appreciate the fact that you don't need as much sleep as the regular person thanks to your manahearts, I would prefer y'all to rest so I can have you at your best for later if we need it. I'll be taking the watch myself since I really only need to sleep for a short while every three days or so."

Rantz looked pleasantly surprised by all that, scratching his chin thoughtfully. While I could tell he had some reservations about letting me take the entire watch all on my own; he reasoned that his party wasn't being paid to be here in the end, so he shouldn't turn down a full night's rest when it was offered to him. "Alright, you're the boss after all." He mused cheerfully enough. "I'll let the others know." With that, he walked off to let Cecil and Lily know.

Lostrill looked up at me curiously as I squatted beside him and flashed a smile. "Go on, you worked hard today, get some rest." I said as I gently patted his shoulder.

He hesitated a little before standing tall as he wiped his hands off his pant legs. "Very well Mister Vito, I'll just tend to the chivosteids one more time and then I'll turn in as well." He insisted, before heading off to check on the goat horses in question.

Left to my own devices, I looked at the setup they had put together, with the pile of dishes and utensils along with the cutlery and pot they used for the cooking. It looked like they were planning on slowly scrubbing things down with a relatively large bucket they hadn't filled with water yet along with a scrub or brush with hard bristles for scrubbing. There was also this wooden pint-sized container with a twist-off cap, inside was some kind of soft soap that looked remarkably like liquid soap for a dispenser; though it admittedly looked thicker than it should be, kinda like a paste.

It suddenly dawned on me that washing dishes with one hand might be a little more trouble than it's worth, so I figured now was as good a time as any to forcibly regrow the rest of my missing arm. Shrugging my cloak away from covering my left side and looking at my arm, there wasn't all that much left to grow back as I could see the makings of what looked to be my wrist starting to form. With just a little bit of effort, I watched as the rest of my hand more rapidly grew into place as the illusion settled over it again, making it look like flesh and blood once more.

Instead of working out of the portable bucket, I poured out some more stone and shaped out a rather good-sized basin which I filled with water, at which point I used a dash of fire magic to bring the water to the boiling point while rolling up my sleeves so I can get to work. It was only then that I realized just how odd this point in my life truly is.

Here I am, a man from another world who is now a sentient magic rock that is also an entire mountain; puppeting a wooden man who is pretending to be an art merchant who is also supposedly a very powerful and eccentric mage. I command a veritable army of animals, can carve a quarry's worth of stone with a thought, and can conjure spouts of flame that even the most impressive flamethrowers of my old world would fail to measure up to. I cured a form of cancer using magic and apparently made a divine artifact in the last few days and now here I am... Doing the dishes.

All this does bring a smile to my face. Despite the circumstances for me taking this trip in the first place, I can't say I can ever remember being quite this happy enjoying myself day after day. I've had fun and experienced so many new things that I couldn't have hoped to dream of in my old life where I had to fight to survive with each new dawn that came across my path.

As I worked, Riley and the rest of Krys' team ended up turning in for the night. Eventually, even Legosi went to sleep, going into the remaining stone hut that was left for me to use. The cubs gathered around me while I slowly did the dishes, just quietly vibing as they watched the glowing crystal lanterns and the dim flamelight in the center of the camp. They dozed off soon enough as well, leaving me to carefully scoop them up as I brought them over to Legosi in the stone hut, leaving them with him and draping one of the blankets I kept for myself from everything I had taken to the Haven.

Now truly on my own, and with the chores all but done, I went about adding some more wood to the fire before stashing away the benches and picnic tables, making myself a wide space for me to do some training.

The half-day I spent training with Isaak was beneficial for sure, but I needed to do more if I wanted to keep up with the people of this world, especially with the significant disadvantage of not being able to properly make use of a manaheart in active combat in the ways other warriors are able to do.

For now, I draw the falchion Trisha made for me, the polished mint green blade glimmering in the mix of flame and crystal light that illuminated the camp around me. Starting with the basics, I begin with the vertical slash, going through my footwork as I gradually walk through the motions, again and again.

The minutes turned to hours as I worked through decades of experience, the training made new as I explored the capabilities of a wooden body without the mental limits of flesh and blood. Each new technique I put my body through exhilarated me as I kept swinging and slashing without a hint of mental or physical exhaustion. The grass beneath my boots trampled into muddy mush as I introduced magic into my swordplay, bursts of water launching out from my offhand when I pretended to dodge attacks and counter where I could; the muscle memories coming to me as if I were using a gun during the rare bloody free-for-alls of open combat that I somehow survived back in my world.

When I finally stopped, I couldn't help but wonder what the upper limits were for me. Everyone keeps saying how powerful I am, but what does that mean? What exactly could I do if I were to actually let loose and push myself into a true life-or-death situation? Even if I did put myself in that situation, I still wouldn't physically be at risk because this body of mine is a mere puppet that can't feel pain or die in any traditional way. Sure, I can be destroyed, but the only ones at risk would be those around me, not myself.

Is it bad that I'm looking forward to the chance to properly pit myself against someone? To see how I measure up against the people of this world? I would've thought being this hot blooded would be a younger man's game, or at least require actually having flesh and blood to get this riled up. By all means, I'm expressly on this journey to assassinate some people, quite a few people likely if it comes down to it. My path will be drenched with the blood of others, but ultimately it is necessary for the sake of preventing further bloodshed and suffering.

Reyvyre and Rita both looked at memories, they saw the terrible things I've done in my life and yet they still say I'm a good man... I suppose I must find comfort in their judgment and the judgment of the sinners who came to trust me after seeing just what I had to do in my last life.

I don't think I'm a good man, I know good men and women and I would say I fall short in far too many regards. I wonder if there will come a day when I can finally set down my weapons and not have to pick them up again. To live a quiet life where I can just watch the others around me grow and prosper in peace without the unnecessary shedding of blood.

I... I don't think that day will ever really come. Even now that I try to reflect on such a life, I can't properly imagine myself ever settling down like that, not anymore, not after everything I've gone through and done. Maybe if I lived a different kind of life, maybe if I didn't have to go through the apocalypse of my world, I could have lived life as a peaceful man, a sort of family guy perhaps.

Maybe somewhere, out there in the myriad of parallel worlds and alternate dimensions, there's a version of me who got to live that sort of life and grew old enough to have children and grandchildren around him... If there does exist a version of me out there that got to live that kind of life... Well... I'll just have to be content with that since this life I've lived is mine and I'll just have to soldier on with this lot I was given. My path of great goods and terrible evils... We'll see what the future holds for me.

All I know now is that I should probably try to find something to occupy myself with if I don't want to be left with my thoughts any longer than I have to be.

Puh'ma / Teen Catkin POV

A fresh spray of blood soaks through her fur, thankfully it's not her own this time as she cleaves through another soldier. The back of her neck tingling with an air of warning as she ducked and weaved away from the slash of one of the other bastards that got behind her; with a smooth pivot, the momentum of her swing sent the heavy blade she wielded slicing through the mix of chain and leather the next soldier wore, bisecting him as she liberated their left arm from their torso and the upper half of their torso from the rest of their body.

Puh'ma's mom warned her not to try to break through the siege these deserter bastards had set up, but once the well was poisoned somehow they all collectively knew they were now on a much stricter timeline than before. Well... If she lives through this day, she'll just have to ask her mom to forgive her for her actions instead of waiting for the permission she was never gonna get.

Her manaheart pulsed with fury as another rush of energy flooded her senses, bringing her sword up and gripping the blade as she desperately blocked a furious swing of a great hammer one of the soldiers wielded, the force of the impact sending shivers through her limbs. Thinking quickly, she kicked out with a clawed foot, managing to dig a sharpened nail through the gap between the metal greaves the soldier wore. Her nail broke, much to her dismay, but it sent the soldier to one knee as she desperately bashed her sword against the hammer that the soldier wielded, causing the spike on the other end of the great hammer to lodge itself into the soldier's throat.

As the seventh soldier in her path dropped, Puh'ma finally spotted an opening in the slowly gathering cluster of troops that had formed around her. However, in that moment of desperate hope, she had lost focus and only barely noticed the heavy club that was sailing for her face.

That was until a volley of arrows suddenly impacted with fierce accuracy, skewering the soldiers around her as a voice rang out clear in the night. "Run! Run you stupid girl!"

Sparing just the briefest moment to glance behind her, she spotted her mother on the inn's rooftop with a few of the other guards, already notching another arrow and loosing it into the growing battle below.

With the sun starting to crest the horizon, Puh'ma broke into a hard dash and started running for the treeline. Though each step reminded her of the crossbow bolts already in her lower back and shoulder, it didn't matter. All she had to do was get word to Sunspot Keep. If she can do that, and if her mom can keep everyone alive, then she still has a chance to save her home.