This Necromancer Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 179

Chapter 179: Shadow of the Shapeshifter!

Silence lingered.

The pine chicken flapped its wings and asked, "Why do you speak chicken?"

"Are you also a chicken?" Matthew replied amiably.

"But you look too much like a human!" the pine chicken exclaimed.

Matthew smiled kindly, "I merely learned your language by chance. There are many among humans who possess the gift to communicate with other species, and mages excel at this. And if you've heard of the legends of the Druids, this won't seem so strange."

The pine chicken shook its head, "I don't know what Druids are, perhaps due to my limited knowledge. After all, I am just a young pine chicken."

Matthew inquired about the chicken's experience in the area, "Do you like this forest?"

The pine chicken glanced around, "It's alright. The environment here is good, free from my natural enemies, but lacking in food. It takes days to find just a worm or two. Logically, it's not the best habitat, but for some reason, there's a force drawing me here, compelling me to settle. I even have this urge to return to my family in the northern desolate mountains and bring them here."

Understanding dawned on Matthew. This was the effect of the Sanctuary of Life.

He warmly extended his welcome, "As the custodian of this forest, I wholeheartedly welcome outstanding residents like yourself."

The pine chicken eyed him warily, "Are you aiming to eat my eggs?"

"Do you even lay eggs?" Matthew countered.

The chicken paused, then exclaimed, "Oh, I don't lay eggs, so that's no concern. But in my family, we have many hens that do. Are you interested in their eggs?"

"I assure you I won't," Matthew replied. "But nature always carries its risks, something you might understand better than I do."

"Fair enough, we don't want to end up as clueless livestock on a farm like those idiots," the pine chicken remarked. "If your promise holds true, I'll consider bringing my entire family here. May the heavens forbid any dreadful creatures like snakes or wolves from appearing in this forest!"

Matthew couldn't guarantee that. With the spreading power of the Sanctuary of Life, various creatures would inevitably populate the forest. The pine chicken's dream of an eternal paradise was unlikely to come to fruition.

"As the first pine chicken to inhabit this forest, I can offer you certain privileges," Matthew offered.

He employed the power of the oak domain, casting a permanent 'Concealment' on the chicken. This ability granted the chicken exceptional concealment while moving within the domain, especially when remaining motionless, making it challenging for enemies to detect its presence.

The chicken felt Matthew's sincerity and was elated. "You're truly amazing, a human who speaks chicken! Thank you immensely for your gift. I'll inform all the pine chickens in my family of your kindness."

"Oh, and Chicken-man, I have a gift for you," the pine chicken said, fluttering its wings towards the nearby riverbank.

Following closely, Matthew said, "You can call me Matthew."

The pine chicken vigorously dug into the riverbank, stating, "Noted, Chicken-man."

Soon enough, it unearthed a small hole filled with odd stones and some dead earthworms. Among these items lay a silver necklace adorned with several small blue sapphires.

The pine chicken carried the necklace to Matthew, filled the hole, then dashed back towards the oak forest without looking back, "I should leave. If anyone sees me conversing with a human for so long, they might think I'm an unserious chicken. I know you're fond of me, but we should maintain a proper distance. Farewell, Chicken-man."

---

Hint: You've had a profound conversation with the pine chicken. Current progress in animal talk (1/300);

Your XP +10;

Your affinity with nature has slightly increased;

Your knowledge (nature - avian) +1;

You've received the gift "Necklace of the Swimmer."

Necklace of the Swimmer: An ordinary-looking silver necklace with some residual essence of a drowned swimmer. Wearing it boosts the wearer's swimming ability by 10, but there's an extremely low chance of attracting water spirits while swimming.

---

The necklace held average value, barely having potential as a collectible item. The principle of drowning for a good swimmer remained consistent.

Matthew stowed away the necklace, well aware that "animal talk," much like tree planting, aligned with the ways of nature. He tried activating this ability in place, strolling through the oak forest. However, he heard no sound along the way.

This was normal. The forest had a scarcity of animals both in variety and number. Moreover, there were thresholds to converse with animals. Not every animal could communicate with humans, and even with the ability, a certain level of spiritual essence within the animal was necessary.

Most animals had considerably low spiritual essence compared to humans. Usually, creatures that lived closely with humans, like cattle, horses, dogs, and cats, were more likely to possess this essence.

Wild creatures in desolate areas, like insects, had difficulty meeting the minimum spiritual essence requirement for animal talk.

Matthew aimed to converse with 300 animals. He realized he'd have to depend on small to medium-sized animals in towns or farms. The probability of spiritual essence in wilderness creatures was too low.

Searching for them one by one would be far less efficient than planting trees.

"It's a pity this task is limited to the vicinity of Rolling Stone Town. It would've been better without such restrictions," Matthew sighed softly.

The ability for animal talk had no usage restrictions; he could continuously engage with animals day and night, given enough subjects. Rainforests were undoubtedly the best place to accomplish this task, teeming with spiritual animals numbering in the thousands. It would be a breeze to complete there.

"At this stage, in Rolling Stone Town, there are enough spiritual animals to barely satisfy 300 people. But if we need more, we might have to lift area restrictions or find another solution."

Matthew pondered for a while.

He recalled a Druid ability called 'Enlightened Hand.'

This ability could temporarily grant spirituality to an animal, meeting the minimum requirement for animal communication.

Druids often use this ability to elevate their animal companions or recommend Nature Spirits.

However, this ability is quite rare, generally beyond the grasp of most Druids, let alone wizards.

Matthew could only hope that the next exploration of the Oak Forest might present options related to this ability.

For now, he deactivated the animal communication skill and hurried to plant three oak trees in the ever-spring land.

Once done, Matthew had lunch in the graveyard and then rushed off to the Lord's Mansion.

Since Rhaegar had left, only Zeller remained in the office. Concerned about the shortage of manpower, Matthew promised to lend a hand whenever possible during this time.

Approaching the front gate of the Lord's Mansion, in the adjacent barracks, a knight was leading an old horse leisurely.

The old horse was still munching on grass.

The knight greeted Matthew, and the old horse happily snorted.

Matthew had an inkling and initiated animal communication.

But an aged voice asked, "Have you eaten grass?"

Matthew replied, "No."

The knight was taken aback. "Are you talking to me?"

The old horse cheerfully interjected, "Don't bother explaining to this lad. Let him misunderstand for a while; it's amusing."

"If you haven't eaten grass, you must try it. Life isn't complete without trying grass."

Matthew chuckled, "Thank you for the advice. I'll consider trying it when I get the chance."

The old horse lightly tapped the ground with its hooves. "If you could tell this lad to stop passing gas on my back, that'd be better than any thanks."

"Also, show some care for him - his posture hasn't been right while riding me these days. I suspect he's got hemorrhoids. Tell him to watch his diet."

Matthew glanced oddly at the bewildered knight.

He coughed gently. "Is this situation common?"

The old horse serenely remarked, "Oh, it's quite common. Crossbows are a knight's mortal enemy, but if you ask a knight what's more detestable than a crossbow, their answer would undoubtedly be hemorrhoids."

With that, the horse voluntarily ended the conversation.

The knight, realizing Matthew was a wizard, nervously asked, "Are you talking to my horse? What did he say? Lord Matthew, I didn't mean to steal from the stable; I just had some difficulties at that time."

"Could you please not inform Lord Rhaegar? I'll secretly make up for the hay I've used these days."

Animal communication had this effect?

Matthew raised an eyebrow but didn't say much. He simply patted the knight's shoulder, "He's just advising you to watch your diet."

"But don't forget to replace the hay."

Then he went inside, leaving the knight looking complexly at the old horse.

...

In the office hall, Matthew sat in his workspace, occasionally glancing outside. Each time he saw Rhaegar's empty spot, he felt rather unsettled.

At two in the afternoon, an owl delivered a letter.

He took it and found it was a reply from the Silver Council.

"The Alliance is unusually efficient this time?"

Matthew opened the letter, read it once, and lightly furrowed his brow.

It was almost as he had expected.

The upper echelons of the Alliance, represented by the Silver Council, seemed indifferent to the events in Eskana.

Their remarks about Stulock Industries were dismissive, stating it was 'not worth mentioning.'

The tone of the letter was polite, but its core contained only two points:

First, seal the rifts in space-time promptly to prevent creatures from outer planes from entering.

Second, the Seven Saints Alliance is indifferent to the changes in the outer planes' situation. They seemed entirely unconcerned about Stulock Industries establishing a foothold in the outer planes and potentially advancing into the Prime Material Plane.

Matthew found this attitude of the Alliance's leadership quite perplexing.

Were they choosing isolation due to pride and arrogance?

Or was there something more intricate behind their principle of non-interference in the outer planes?

Matthew couldn't fathom it.

All he knew was that hoping to leverage the Alliance's power to intervene between planes was utterly impossible now.

With this thought, he had to dispel the last vestige of wishful thinking.

After all, the quantity of sulfur ore harvested from Stulock Industries was already substantial.

Matthew had roughly estimated the value of these sulfur ores to be around three hundred thousand gold coins.

It was a windfall; he had no reason to demand more.

"I just hope young Patton realizes the difficulty and backs off."

Matthew sighed.

Rationally, he shouldn't have allowed young Patton to take such risks.

But in the end, he relented.

On one hand, Matthew saw a different sparkle in young Patton's eyes, making it hard for him to crush Patton's aspirations directly.

Moreover, Patton demonstrated intellect, agility, and reflexes far beyond ordinary people. Matthew estimated his combat skills to be around second tier. However, he believed that if they avoided conflict, Patton could handle many situations.

Ultimately, not every decision in this world follows pure logic. Humanity is inherently contradictory and emotional.

For instance, Matthew's rational side insisted that Patton gracefully accepting defeat would be the best outcome. Yet, somewhere deep inside, an irrational hope lingered for this kid, puzzling Matthew himself.

He struggled to pinpoint the reason, even questioning if it was due to an overdose of mushrooms recently.

Just then, Zeller returned from handling morning affairs. Matthew laid out the whole time-space fissure and Patton's situation to Zeller, seeking his perspective.

Zeller, with an expressionless face, replied, "If I were Rhaegar, I'd swing a sword at you. If I were Mrs. Liz, by tomorrow morning, the entire Rolling Stone Town would know of a dreadful necromancer trafficking her son. But if I were Patton, I'd be immensely grateful to you."

To this, Matthew asked, "What if you were in my shoes at that moment?"

After a brief pause, Zeller contemplated, "I might have agreed with you, though it's risky. But then again, who among the Blood Flag Clan didn't emerge from danger? That lad harbors an imperceptible potential. Despite Rhaegar's and my clandestine attempts, we've failed to unlock that power. Perhaps this situation could be an opportunity."

Upon hearing this, Matthew suddenly comprehended a part of his intuition—the kind that incessantly guided his decisions, seemingly tethered to a domain's existence.

He recollected every instance when following his intuition correlated with a subtle resonance in an imperceptible part of the domain.

"Could this be why I easily grasp domains? Are my decisions intertwined with the potential of those around me, the power of the domains, even the legendary path?" These thoughts sprouted in Matthew's mind, promptly dismissed as fanciful.

"But this matter is inherently too perilous. If you wish to spare him the hurt, let me play the villain. When he returns today, I'll take him away, telling him I discovered it, and you were coerced. Then you can seal the time-space rift swiftly, concluding this issue."

At this point, a weary Zeller rubbed his temples. "I don't oppose your youthful adventurism. However, with the recent turmoil in Rolling Stone Town and its vicinity, I sense impending trouble. At this juncture, I wish for everyone's safety—Patton's and yours alike."

Matthew nodded in understanding, acknowledging Zeller's concerns.

He was about to inquire about recent events when hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Moments later, a disheveled gentleman appeared before them.

Richard placed his cane on a nearby shelf, surveyed the hall, and inquired sternly, "Where's Rhaegar? Napping? Quickly wake him; I have crucial matters to discuss."

Zeller looked surprised. "Rhaegar is at Purgatory; won't return for a month at least. What's the urgency?"

Frowning, Richard continued, "Why go to Purgatory at such a time?" His gaze shifted between Matthew and Zeller, then decisively stated, "Remember the peculiar corpse I examined at the precinct?"

Recalling the incident, Matthew vividly remembered the bizarre body missing all essential elements, rendering even necromancy futile.

"That body from downstream of Granny River?" he queried.

Zeller gravely responded, "I checked the records; indeed, it's suspicious. What did you find?"

Fidgeting in the hall, Richard paced, "I visited the Eternal Song Forest and confirmed with the Twilight Elves—an unsealing of the 'Lord of Metamorphosis' indeed occurred. Damn it, you know the 'Metamorphs,' right?"

The Metamorphs, descendants of an infamous demonic bloodline, were known for their ancestor's failed attempt to usurp the Murder God's position during the Enlightenment era. The notorious Lord of Metamorphosis, Gaisleyven, was among the few demons sealed in the prime material plane.

Richard explained that a recent assault by Sennel, the notorious red-letter killer and leader of the Silver Frost Brotherhood, on the Gaussdith Penitentiary caused a partial breach in the Lord's seal. This might lead to awakening some of the Metamorphs' descendants.

"Metamorphs?" Suddenly, Matthew thought of the lazy white cat in his forest claiming to possess the Metamorph bloodline.

"Do Metamorphs have the ability to transform into someone else, making it hard to distinguish?" he urgently asked.

Richard nodded, "Metamorphs possess an innate shapeshifting ability, potent enough comparable to a fourth-tier Alteration spell. It progresses and allows impersonation."

"Whenever Metamorphs appeared in human society, chaos ensued due to this power. However, within awakened Metamorphs, a small fraction receives Gaisleyven's favor. They gain a terrifying ability apart from shapeshifting—the ability to 'Deprive' or 'Replace.'"

Matthew felt a foreboding sensation as Richard continued.

"A Depriver can, through a specific ritual, strip a person of identity, memories, abilities, everything, and assume their place. This isn't a superficial change; it's a complete assimilation."

The ceremony's victims endured a cruel fate—ignored by loved ones, cherished by those who caused their demise. Their existence spiraled into endless suffering, their identity erased. Eventually, they perished, unknown, and forgotten.

"I hope I'm wrong, but signs from that corpse hint at a potential Depriver," Richard grimly disclosed.

"In simpler terms, it suggests a potential Metamorph conducted a Deprivation ritual within Rolling Stone Town's limits. I can't discern their whereabouts; they could have left, stayed, or might even be among you!"

The atmosphere in the hall turned somber instantly.

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