Angus, under the combined threat of a lingering grudge and the demon king's palpable impatience, finally managed to produce something useful. He closed his eyes, his fluffy pink hair glowing with a faint, rainbow-colored light. He hummed, a low, tuneless drone that vibrated in my teeth.
"The... the corruption!" he chirped, his eyes snapping open. "It's like... a really bad smell! A magical stink-trail! This way!" He pointed a trembling finger toward the dense, dark part of the forest, a place where the sunlight seemed to fear to tread. [It's not a very nice smell. Like... old cheese and despair! (｡•́︿•̀｡)]
The demon king pushed himself off the rock with a fluid, impossible grace. "Lead on, feathered dowsing rod. And try not to get us all killed." He didn't look at me, but the command was clear: move.
I finished the last chunk of rabbit in a hurry and stood up, following after Angus.
I wasn't even sure where Angus was even meant to be leading us, actually.
Not the nearest city - the demon king seemed more than capable of figuring that one out himself. Maybe it was pointing toward the local demon lord?
But he'd denied doing that one before, and I'm not sure why we'd have been heading toward that other town in the first place if the demon king was just going to get impatient halfway there and reorientate us.
That left...
Something to do with the dream.
The corruption.
I don't really get it, or why the demon king thinks there's some kind of a corruption nearby causing me to dream ominous things, but I suppose I have no evidence to point elsewhere, and they all seem quite confident about it.
And by they all...
I just mean that the Demon King seems convinced of it, and Angus has yet to try to convince him otherwise. Even if that would just be from fear, it's still a good sign.
The forest changed. The healthy green of the oaks and maples began to sicken, the leaves turning a jaundiced, mottled yellow. The cheerful chirping of birds faded away, replaced by an unnerving, buzzing silence. The air grew heavy, thick with the same sickly-sweet smell of decay that had clung to the corrupted bough.
Angus, our feathered dowsing rod, fluttered nervously ahead of us. His rainbow aura flickered, a struggling candle in a growing gloom. He kept looking back at us, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination. [It's getting stronger! 🤢] he thought, the message popping into my head. [The stink of despair is overpowering! It's like finding a forgotten gym sock at the bottom of a laundry basket! A very, very evil gym sock! (×﹏×)]
...I really don't know what to say about that comparison.
I'm not particularly sure what an evil gym sock would even be, or how that'd affect....
Anything. At all.
The demon king strode ahead, a stark, white-gold figure against the encroaching corruption. He didn't seem bothered by the atmosphere. If anything, he looked... alert. Interested. His head was held high, his purple eyes scanning the shadows with a sharp, analytical focus. He wasn't just walking through the forest; he was dissecting it, categorizing every scent, every sound, every subtle shift in the air.
"Try to keep up, wretch," he said, his voice a low murmur that cut through the buzzing silence. "I have no desire to wait for you to be consumed by whatever pathetic creature lurks in this filth. It would be far too quick and painless an end for you." He glanced back at me over his shoulder, a slow, dismissive smirk touching his lips. "And it would leave a truly appalling stain on my reputation to allow an amateur to kill someone on my kill list."
"I'm on a list?" I ask, incredulous. "How flattered I am." I tried to keep my tone light, but the words came out tight. The forest was pressing in on me, the branches of the sickened trees reaching out like bony fingers. The buzzing in my ears grew louder, a low, mechanical hum that vibrated through the soles of my boots.
"The one where I kill you myself." He said, flatly.As if I didn't already know.
Maybe it was assure himself more than me.
"Right. Of course." I said.
The buzzing grew louder, a mechanical hum that vibrated up from the ground through the soles of my boots. I stumbled, my foot catching on a root that was slick with a black, oily substance. I would have fallen, but a hand shot out and grabbed my arm, steadying me. It was him. He had moved without a sound, a blur of white and gold in the gloom.
"Your incompetence is a constant source of wonder," he said, his tone a flat, clinical observation. He let go of my arm, leaving a faint warmth where his fingers had been. "It is as if you actively seek new ways to make this journey as insufferable as possible."
"I need to make you earn your keep somehow..."
I mumbled, pushing myself away and regaining my balance.
The trees thinned, opening into a small, sickly clearing. The buzzing hum was louder here, a constant, grating drone. The ground was covered in a black, viscous slime that pulsed with a faint, purple light. In the center of the clearing was a stone, a single, jagged piece of obsidian that jutted from the ground like a rotten tooth. The slime seemed to flow from it, a slow, inexorable tide of corruption.
"Weird." I murmur, staring at it. "Didn't the dryads already lead us to a source of corruption?".
"Clearly they are worse even than you at being able to identify the source of the corruption.: The Demon King retorted, "As expected from beings that are a step above moss."
The demon king walked toward the stone, his bare feet sinking slightly into the black slime. He didn't seem to care. He stopped a few feet from the obsidian, his head tilted, a curious, almost thoughtful expression on his face. He reached out a hand, not to touch the stone, but to feel the air around it.
I had to admit...it was quite a striking pose.