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Why did the mantids wish for the removal of the blue avians’ calamity detector? Sam wasn’t sure, but if he had to take a guess, perhaps the mantids had a higher-dimensional being of their own that they worshipped or needed to summon, and they couldn’t contact it because the blue avians would notice if they did. However, regardless of the reason, Sam was already at odds with the blue avians—since one had tried to kill him—so if he could garner the mantids’ approval doing something he was already planning on doing, then that was great. At least, that’s how Sam rationalized it to make his lack of freedom bearable.
Although Sam had gotten stronger, richer, and more influential than compared to when he was talentless, he had less freedom because he had to consider the feelings of the higher-dimensional beings he had been saddled with. If he didn’t fulfill their demands, who knew what mischief they’d get up to? Vercedei clearly wanted him to steal the blue avians’ calamity detector, so that’s what he’d do unless he wanted a snake constantly choking him. It was the price to pay for power, so Sam didn’t allow his loss of freedom to bring him down.
Now, Sam was doing something he wasn’t particularly interested in: browsing through the botanical gardens. Luckily, he could ride atop Manga’s back during the activity, so he didn’t have to walk anywhere himself. Beside him, there was Greg, who was riding atop a large beetle. “Are you interested in any of the plants?” Greg asked. “You’ve seen a lot of them by now. Perhaps you were looking for one in particular?”
“Have you considered selling the plants that can extend one’s lifespan to other races?” Vercedei asked.
“No,” Greg said. “That’s just asking for trouble. We don’t enjoy breaking ecosystems.” The mantid rubbed its scythes past one another, creating a scraping sound. “However, if you’re interested in extending your life, we don’t mind doing that for you as long as you complete tasks for us.”
“What happened to not breaking the ecosystem?” Vercedei asked. “If you’re going to allow individuals to live forever—”
“The life-extending plants are quite invasive,” Greg said, interrupting Vercedei. “When they’re around, it’s nearly impossible for other plants to grow. Besides, it’s not likely for an individual to live forever. When the people around them start noticing the differences in how they age, their descendants tend to kill the longer-lived ones.”
“Is that so?” Vercedei asked. “Well, if these life-extending plants are invasive, then they must be abundant, no?”
“They take over all the soil on the surface, but they don’t produce much yield,” Greg said. “They’re a slow-growing plant, so they don’t require much maintenance, only some trimming of the roots every so often.”
Sam turned his head towards Greg. He didn’t have to use his eyes on the mantid to know how it was feeling, but he saw something move on the ground behind Greg’s beetle. It was Duke, and behind him, there was a mantid, Grigar. Duke had a pair of mantid arms sticking out of his shoulders with long scythes on their ends. He also wore a backpack similar to a praying mantis’ carapace. If Sam were closer, perhaps he would’ve even smelled the earthy musk of the pheromones Duke had sprayed over himself as well.
Sam seemed to be seeing Duke everywhere, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if Vercedei was picking activities that Duke was choosing to do as well. Twice might’ve been a coincidence, but if it kept happening, then there must’ve been a reason. Was there something special about the man that Vercedei had picked up on?
Sam focused with his All-Seeing Gaze, observing Duke’s aura. The colors layering the man’s body was a murky green. If it weren’t for Joe’s interference, Sam’s aura would’ve been the same color as Duke’s since the cause, as Sam suspected, was the drugged food the mantids ate to numb their pain. Sam didn’t see anything special about Duke’s disguise either; it seemed purely cosmetic.
“If you want to see the life-extending plant, I can show it to you,” Greg said. “You seem quite interested in it, and your focus is directed in its direction anyway.”
“Sure,” Vercedei said. “It’d be a good experience to see this plant. Plenty of human legends have been written about it after all.”
“Then, we’ll go ahead of those two,” Greg said, steering his beetle in Duke and Grigar’s direction.
As the large beetle made its way over, Grigar pulled Duke to the side, making way for Greg and Sam to pass. Duke stared up at Sam, and a frown flashed on Duke’s face, appearing for just a brief moment. When the wooly pig and beetle had passed, Duke led Grigar in a different direction. He and his mantid friend browsed through the botanical gardens, Duke’s disguise proving successful since he wasn’t ambushed and killed by any mantids mistaking him for prey—yet.
With his notebook in hand, Duke recorded notes on all the plants he observed. He sketched them, smelled them, touched them, and, with Grigar’s permission, tasted some of them. As the day dragged on, the pages of the notebook were filled by Duke’s pen, and eventually, he made it to the life-extending plant’s habitat. The giant beetle and large wooly pig were nowhere in sight, and Duke relaxed his tensed shoulders.
“Your notes are lacking,” Grigar said. “We have detailed entries for all of the plants within the garden. Are you sure you don’t want to look at them?”
“Yes,” Duke said. “It’s more meaningful if I interact with all the plants myself.”
“Is that so?” Grigar asked. “Are you not bringing this knowledge back to your kind? It’d be far more meaningful to bring them detailed and accurate notes, no? It would certainly be faster too. Shouldn’t you be pursuing efficiency?”
Duke stared at the section of the garden reserved for the life-extending plant. There was an official name for the plant, but Grigar had said it in the mantid language, and Duke didn’t know how to repeat it. The meaning was simple though: life-extending plant. It was growing in an isolated circular structure within the botanical gardens. The ground was covered with a brown, bramble-like root system, and one stem, which was as tall as Duke, was in the center of the circle. Duke swallowed and turned his head towards Grigar. “Can I touch it?” he asked.
“There’s no reason why you can’t,” Grigar said. “It’s harmless, and even if you destroy it, there’s plenty more where it came from.”
Duke walked into the circular room and stopped in front of the plant’s stem. It was bare and brown like a tree during the winter. There were three branches sticking out of it, two of them bare but one of them with a brown bud growing from the end. Duke touched the plant and closed his eyes, activating the ability he had gained when he had awakened. He absorbed the properties of the plant, empowering his own body as he had done with all the plants before. Duke’s eyes opened, and a wide smile appeared on his face. “Thank you,” he said to Grigar. “You were very helpful. Are there any other plants in Silva Volucris that aren’t growing in these gardens?”
“Yes,” Grigar said. “There are a few plants that can only grow underneath our heritage pillar. Would you like to go see them?”
***
Sam took in his surroundings with his All-Seeing Gaze, watching mantids interact with one another, watching ants perform maintenance, watching beetles grazing out in a field. After visiting the botanical gardens, Vercedei had insisted on a taking a tour of the region. After all, for Raindu to successfully steal the history stone without casting any suspicion on Sam, Sam needed an alibi. He had to be seen by everyone.
Sam closed his eyes, letting Manga follow after Greg’s beetle. He focused on the spot between his eyebrows, entering the field of candy to see if the ferret had any updates it was willing to share with him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Raindu had stolen some precious mantid belongings, but the ferret would probably never admit it if it had. Still, it was worth a shot to ask.
“Hello, Sam,” Raindu said, its voice echoing through the field as the black ferret appeared from a nearby bush. “I found the malachite. I’m waiting for the right timing to take it.”
“Good job,” Sam said, pleasantly surprised. He had always thought the ferret had problems with impulse control, but now, it was patiently waiting to steal things instead of taking them right away. Honestly, Sam was a little unsettled. “What kind of chance are you looking for?”
“There are guard ants all over,” Raindu said. “Once they’re distracted, I can sneak in.”
“You’re not going to rob them of their organs?” Birdbrained asked, joining in the conversation as it hopped out of the same bush Raindu had used to enter the field of candy. “If everything dies without alerting anyone, then it’s the same as you successfully sneaking in.”
As expected of the graylings’ master, the eagle wanted the world to fall into chaos.
“Don’t do that,” Sam said. “Please.” It was bad enough he was stealing the mantids’ recording malachite; he didn’t want to slaughter their guards as well. The mantids were a surprisingly nice species; even someone like Duke, who wasn’t particularly powerful, was treated well by the giant insects. It wasn’t like reptilian society where humans were relegated to pets unless they had unlocked their Sahasrara.
“I wasn’t going to,” Raindu said. “There are too many ants. It’s a lot of work to get rid of all of them.”
“So, what?” Birdbrained asked. “You’re like Joe now? Too lazy to commit a massacre?”
“Hello…,” Joe’s voice echoed through the field of candy as the sloth’s face poked out of the bush. It spoke slowly, and its movements were as slow as a turtle’s. The sloth crawled out of the bush while speaking slow enough to infuriate even the most patient of people. “Did someone say something about me?”
“Yeah,” Birdbrained said. “Raindu here has been infected by your complacency disease. Since when is a higher-dimensional unwilling to deal with a bunch of ants?”
“It’s not a disease,” Joe said, its voice echoing through the whole field of candy. “It’s a way of life. Things will progress no matter what you do, so why not let them run their course and enjoy the ride?”
“That’s how inanimate objects live their lives,” Birdbrained said and spread its wings out. “We’re not rocks or water; in this dimension, at least, we’re living creatures, and as such, we’re free to influence the world as we like. If we don’t like something, we can change it. If we want to kill some ants guarding what we want, it’s our right as living creatures to do it.”
“And it’s Raindu’s right to not slaughter the ants as well,” Sam said before the eagle could convince the ferret to commit a crime. Well, the ferret was going to commit a crime, but this way, no lives would be lost. Then again, with the mantids’ philosophy on life, perhaps the guard ants wouldn’t mind dying. If Raindu slaughtered them, then the ants died doing what they were assigned to do, fulfilling their purpose just like the graylings. Maybe the ants were looking forward to the day they died in battle like those raiding sailors from ancient times.
“You’re right, Sam,” Raindu said, having helped itself to Sam’s train of thought, not giving too chirps about his privacy. “Guarding is what they were born to do, and if they died without having a chance to show what they were made of, then that’d be a shame. Even if it’s a hassle for me, I have to take their feelings into consideration as well.”
Sam’s expression darkened. Was the ferret messing with him?
“No,” Raindu said, the ferret staring into Sam’s eyes. “I’ve always been acting in your—and, on occasion, my—best interests, Sam.”
Thinking back, the ferret had become more well-behaved the longer it stuck to Sam. Although it had sticky paws, it generally listened to Sam’s requests. If it wasn’t for Raindu, he wouldn’t have obtained the GMC, spawning Birdbrained into existence. If Raindu wasn’t here, he wouldn’t be able to steal the mantids’ history malachite. Before Sam could come up with a reason for Raindu to not slaughter the ants, the ferret hopped into the bush and disappeared from the field of candy.
Birdbrained glanced at Joe before flying into the bush as well, leaving Sam behind with the sloth. Joe looked up at Sam, and Sam let out a sigh. “Maybe you should’ve gone with Raindu,” he said. “If you were there, you could make all the guard ants fall complacent.”
“I could’ve,” Joe said, its voice droning on for half a minute despite only speaking two words. If Sam didn’t have to worry about angering the sloth, he would’ve left before it could’ve even finished its first word. However, if he did that, well, everyone around him would be mad, and he’d rather not be the only human around a group of rabid mantids. “But it would take a long time to walk there, and Manga isn’t very stealthy.”
Sam nodded, content on ending the conversation on that note. If it lasted any longer, Raindu would probably finish slaughtering the ants and stolen the malachite before the sloth finished speaking its mind.
***
Duke strode alongside Grigar with a smile on his face. He hadn’t expected mantid society to be so relaxed. Humans could waltz around Silva Volucris, entering botanical gardens where the mantids’ greatest treasures were located. It was akin to him walking into a company’s research-and-development room and viewing all of their product’s secrets. Not only that, but the food and lodgings in Silva Volucris were free too. It wasn’t a bad place to stay; without a need for money to survive, what reason would Duke have to work a soul-crushing job? Mantids might be tasked with missions by their queens, but humans weren’t, so wasn’t it a good idea to stay here?
Duke hummed to himself as he walked down the street, heading towards the stele of recorded history, or as Grigar called it, the heritage pillar. It was in the center of Silva Volucris, located within a deep pit, but from where Duke was standing, he could still see the tip of the green stele. As he got closer, the tip of the stele grew larger, and eventually, he arrived at the edge of the hole where the heritage pillar was located. The surroundings reminded Duke of a surface mine; there was a large gradual slope to the walls of the pit, leading to a massive green cylinder with bands and swirls of various shades of green, including a dark green that was almost black, and a light green that seemed white.
“Wow,” Duke said, staring at the heritage pillar. It was surrounded by ants of various sizes, the insects populating the walls of the sloping pit. The pit was so deep, Duke could tell it’d take several long minutes of walking to reach the bottom. If he tripped, fell, and rolled all the way down, he’d probably break all his bones and die.
Curved symbols were carved on the surface of the pillar. Duke couldn’t read them, but they looked nice; he didn’t know enough about engraving techniques to comment further on the symbols. As Duke’s gaze went from the top of the pillar to the bottom, his eyes lit up. There was glowing moss growing on the surface of the stele, and at the base of the structure, which would take several hundred people holding hands to fully encircle the whole thing, there were purple plants Duke had never seen or heard of before. He turned his head towards Grigar. “Can I examine those plants?”
“If that’s what you want,” Grigar said. “They’re dangerous though.”
“Dangerous?” Duke asked. “How so?”
“Malachite contains an enormous amount of energy,” Grigar said. “It’s even capable of influencing one’s fortune. The plants growing beside the heritage pillar absorb the energy from the malachite as if its their sun, and in turn, they’ve gained some properties of the malachite themselves.” Grigar leaned closer to Duke. “If you come in contact with those plants, your fortune may plummet, and bad luck will follow you for the rest of your life.”
Duke’s brows furrowed. “Is there a chance those plants can increase my fortune instead of decreasing it?”
The mantid shook its head. “It’s impossible for you,” Grigar said. “Unless all your energy channels, your chakras, are open and the energy can freely flow through you, you’ll only encounter misfortune when messing with those plants. If your chakras are blocked, the energy from the malachite will remain stuck in your body, corroding you and draining your fortune.”
Duke pursed his lips as he stared at the purple plants. “What about those ants carving and guarding the heritage pillar?” he asked. “Aren’t they affected by the malachite?”
“They are,” Grigar said, “but they’re ants. If they’re told to die, then they’ll willingly die.”