Chapter 125 – The Gift of Patience.

“This plan is ridiculous,” John sighed while he was looking at the depression in the ground.

‘It will work, John,’ Gnome reassured. She and Sylph were the two familiars he had chosen for this attempt, or actually, which Gnome had chosen for this attempt.

“I believe you, otherwise I wouldn’t be here despite everyone else voting against, but that doesn’t make the plan any less grating,” John sighed. “I am not even sure this is worth the effort, it could take hours.”

‘You must learn to be patient,’ Gnome said, ‘Remember the vision of our contract. Be the earth. Be patient.’

“Do I have to be patient?” Sylph babbled, “Cause I am totally not good at that, I like to whoo-whoosh and wheeeeee and-“ The noise suddenly stopped, the small air spirit getting caught between Gnome’s hollow hand. Muffled noises from inside confirmed that Sylph was continuing to talk nevertheless. That girl loved the sound of her own voice.

‘Be patient,’ Gnome repeated, ‘Breathe in deeply, John. What do you smell?’

He had no idea what this was supposed to accomplish but he followed the instructions anyway. The air was filled with the smell of the forest, rich earth, plants, the soft aroma of pine needles. It was strangely calming. He heard nothing but the soft whisper of Gnome in his mind. ‘Do you trust me, John?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ was his immediate answer. Gnome had saved his life on numerous occasions. Often only because she followed his instructions, sometimes of her own accord. The latter grew more frequent, as she became more of her own person, rather than another shard of the elemental plane.

‘Then close your eyes, turn around and walk.’

And so he did. Gnome became his eyes as he felt how his every step shook the ground. He felt the different kinds of earth under his feet. Soft earth, where seldom a living being treaded, hollow earth, were a fox or some other animal had burrowed a hole, hard earth, where roots thickly winded through the consolidated dirt. There were more, specific variations, but through the soles of his shoes he was unable to pick up all of them.

Without thinking about it, just going with the flow Gnome dictated to him, he got rid of his shoes. None of this was part of her plan, but he felt committed to something greater. Every time he breathed in and filled his lungs with the smell of nature, he felt himself grow farther away from what he had perceived reality to be and closer to what it truly was. He felt how every step changed the make-up of the world. Just a little bit. Every displaced bit of dirt, every pushed away stone, every broken branch on the forest floor, it all changed the world, just a bit.

‘Careful, there is a slope here,’ Gnome whispered and John took a slow step, careful not to fall. As if nature wanted to repay his attention, he found safe footing every step down the slope, his eyes still closed. He even pushed his Possession consciousness far away. It now was little more than the light of the moon against his closed eyelids. Finally, Gnome told him to stop. ‘This is the place, sit down and when you are ready, summon the boss.’

John nodded to himself, slowly awakening from the trance, yet some part of him remained with nature, from this point and forever. Around him, earth shifted, enveloping him fully, then moving underneath him. He was sitting in complete darkness. This was part of the plan. The only things he saw were the window asking for his selection and Sylph smiling at him. “I will be very quiet,” she promised with a whisper. He was inside a bubble in the earth, somewhere. He didn’t even know himself, as he had only followed Gnome’s instructions. This was the first part of her plan, nowhere in the boss rules did it say that he needed to be around the spawn point. John only needed to hide, facing Nateward was an unnecessary risk for the plan and so all he needed to have was patience. Well, patience and air to breathe. That is what Sylph was there for, it would cost some amount of mana but she would be able to refresh the air inside.

Gnome had another job, one that would remain in the shadows for now as John finalized the preparations and closed his eyes again, only watching through the eyes of the Bee. Nateward, or in actuality: A piece of the being known as Nateward, stuck out his head and looked around.

“This again?” he wanted to know, “Did I not kick your ass like two minutes ago… wait a sec, where the hell are you?” he unearthed himself fully and looked around. John noted with interest that the creature was able to remember their last encounter. No other boss had shown such behaviour. However, Bonus Levels and Secret Rooms had already proven themselves to be different beasts. “Did Gaia fuck up or is this a prank from my Lord?” Nateward wondered as his eyes finally fell on the bee, “Nope. Hey, spaghetti person, where the hell are you?”

This time the insult didn’t faze John, as these Yoga people tend to say: He had found his centre. The bee just kept hovering on the spot. Nateward clicked his tongue, “I can feel your mana but can’t trace it. Throwaway bodies are a hassle.” He scratched his cap, “Well, guess I will just search for you then.”

The mushroom-man began walking while trying to whistle, his spongey lips producing only weird, flappy noises. His movements were weirdly overaccentuated, as he walked around. John followed him around as the bee. This was more or less also part of the plan, the hope being that he didn’t get too close. That the Gamer did not know whether Nateward was heading in the right direction was cause for mild nervousness. ‘I hate not having certainty,’ he thought.

He hated the confirmation that the mushroom man was heading in the right direction even more. “The hell?” Nateward asked and picked up a pair of discarded shoes. “Why the...If I had a nose, finding you would be so easy!” he lamented and tossed them away. Once again John had no idea how far away the boss was, he opened one eye and looked at his empty mana bar. It stayed empty.

Ten minutes later, Nateward stood somewhere in the forest, head leaning against a tree. “This is so booooring,” he complained, “Can’t you at least throw that candle-chick at me? I could have a word-fight at the very least!” The mushroom-man had no idea that Salamander wasn’t around. Nateward slammed a fist against the tree, spores whirled up in response, “This is so booooooo…”

An hour later, “…ooooooooooooooooooo…” Nateward was rolling on the ground.

Two hours later, “…oooooooooooooooooo…” Nateward was pulling off his fingers and re-growing them.

Three hours later “…oooooeeehr- huh?” Nateward looked at a cute little girl in a yellow sun dress, smiling at him sweetly.

Nateward felt a sudden tremble under his feet and so did John all around him. It was finally happening. Three hours worth of mana, all poured into Gnome and the result would finally put an end to this monotony. The land upheaved; trees keeled over as everything was turned upside down. Nateward could not have known what was happening, until he and Gnome shot up into the air. A pillar of rock and dirt rose dozens of metres upwards. A couple hundred metres away, John experienced the same.

John got up with a grimace- He didn’t mind the height, being a bee or bird with part of his mind had completely eradicated that kind of fear from his brain. The muscle cramps he experienced from sitting still for so long were still horrible. Sylph experienced another kind of pain, the pain of finally letting out all the words she had held back. “OH MY GAIA, Can I just say – and I finally can now – that that thing is super adorbsa-dorbs. I mean just look at these long limbs of his, he kinda has your build, you know that JohnTron, can I still call you that by the way? I never got your okay on that? What would you prefer? John? JohnTron? Johny Money? I mean you do make a lot of cash. Wait, if you paid me would I be a concubine? Wait, no I would need to be able to have sex with you for that…. SOMEBODY MAKE ME TALLER I WANT TO BE CALLED A CONCUBINE, that is such a cool title! I want and I want…” John activated his mental spam filter. He did not have one but he was enough used to Sylph that he could pretend so. The plan now only hitched on one last detail, Nateward’s physical strength.

The mushroom-man looked all around. Beneath their platform, a roughly one-kilometre radius of the forest had been completely swallowed by the earth. Whatever trees he had infected were buried under a thick layer of raw, brown dirt. No old spores could reach him and to reach new trees he would have to take a plunge he couldn’t survive.

“So annoying,” Nateward mumbled and looked at the little girl. The only viable strategy for him was to climb down. He couldn’t do that with the obstruction around. “You gonna jump voluntarily or do I need to throw you?”

“Try,” Gnome dared with the sweetest of tones. Nateward sighed and grabbed Gnome by the shoulders, trying to pick her up. He couldn’t. He tried a second time and heaved under the exhaustion. “The hell, what are you made of – stone?” he asked.

“Yes, and I am also part of the ground.”

Nateward looked at the girl’s feet where the light skin colour melded into the stone they both stood upon. “Oh,” was all he could say about that. “Oy!” he complained, when Gnome grasped his hands in turn.

Over at the other pillar John smiled and allowed himself a moment of smugness. ‘Gnome, would you explain the plan to our friend here?’ Gnome sent back a humoured approval and… shyness? Regardless, she started talking.

“We can’t beat your regeneration,” she said, “E-especially not if you can heal off Aclysia. However, you need actual materials to heal, so we took them away from you. To that end, John needed to give me lots and lots of mana. L-like a whole lot.”

“Why not just use the candle-chick for that? Burn the forest.” Nateward seemed more amused than offended by this plan.

“She could not have hidden John until he had given her enough mana. She, uhm, also wouldn’t have been able to give him air to breathe. It needed to be both me and Sylph. Also, Salamander would have been able to take your source of healing but not stop you from migrating somewhere where you could instead.” Gnome explained. “The only problem in our plan was the question whether or not you are strong enough to escape my grasp. Are you?”

Nateward struggled against the girl’s hands, fruitlessly. “Well, chucklefucks. I am not. Well, I will just Conshruume you then!” he threw a hand full spores at Gnome. They didn’t stick. “You needed to touch trees in order to heal, meaning that you need organic materials. I am 100% earth.” Gnome ended her explanation.

“Damn weak body limitations!” Nateward lamented, “Okay, so I can’t get away, but how are you planning to kill me, your summoner is what, 200 metres away?” Gnome said nothing and left the next part as a surprise. Then a blue blast flew right by them.

Aiming Mana Ray at this distance was iffy. Agility had slightly bettered his eyesight, or at least he felt so, but that didn’t mean he was a sharpshooter. Nateward was also struggling to try and get away from Gnome, now that he knew John had an actual way to damage him. Foot pressed against Gnome’s chest, he tried his best to pry open the grasping hands. “This is such a stupid way to die!”

“”I think this plan was brilliantly executed,”” said both Gnome and John at completely different places at the exact same time.

John smirked, then nailed Nateward in the shoulder with the next Mana Ray. The arm tore off at the joint, the second following immediately after. All the force with which the mushroom man was struggling against Gnome now catapulted him backwards. One long plunge later, victory was John’s.