Chapter 8: Chapter 8 A Fiend Appears!
The familiar mechanical voice chimed in his head.
["God of Machine says he senses agitation from you."]
"The hell I am! Who wouldn't go nuts after all that effort, only to find the pages completely blank?" John snapped, flipping through the diary furiously.
["God of Machine says it's quite understandable—it's no doubt the personal diary of the Great Immortal Mad Max. You think it would be easy to see through them? The pages aren't blank; you just can't see them."]
John groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, skip the lecture and get to the point. How do I read it?"
["God of Machine opines that it's yours to figure out."]
"Yeah, of course, it's my problem. It's mine to solve," John sneered, his sarcasm dripping with exasperation.
He leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. "Good! Another mystery to add to my growing collection. Lucky me. At least time's on my side."
Resigned to the fact that deciphering the diary wasn't an option for now, he closed it with a soft thud.
["God of Machine insists that you focus on gathering your herds and begin cultivating the energy of this world. The more beasts you enslave, the stronger you'll grow personally."]
John raised an eyebrow. "Enslave? That's a bit much, don't you think? Can't we use a friendlier term? Like... recruit?"
["God of Machine chuckles and says, 'Call it whatever makes you feel better. By the way, when I readjusted the Codex, I added another surprise for you. You'll discover it when you make your first successful beast enslavement—er, I mean, recruitment.'"]
John rolled his eyes. "Another surprise? Ha, why am I not excited?" He paused, a wry smile tugging at his beak. "Oh, right. Maybe it's because all your surprises so far have come with excuses that kill whatever little expectations I had."
Leaning back, John sighed, his thoughts swirling. Better to keep my expectations low. At least that way, I won't be disappointed again.
He set to work, gathering the essentials scattered around the cave. After carefully arranging them into a makeshift backpack, he slung it over his shoulder and headed toward the cave's entrance.
"With my current strength, roaming too far is probably a bad idea," John muttered, his thoughts drifting back to the fox, Marx. "Better stick to the vicinity and try my luck. I can always explore the jungle once I'm stronger."
The cave he emerged from sat atop a small hill, shrouded by tall trees and a lush undergrowth of wild grasses, herbs, and weeds. Their mingled scents filled the crisp evening air.
As he descended, the rustling leaves and the melodic calls of birds welcomed him to the serene wilderness.
"Worm, worm, worm... worm... is... tasty!"
John tilted his head, perking up at the oddly repetitive chirping. His gaze traveled upward, where a flock of vibrant birds perched on the thick green branches of two neighboring trees.
He squinted, trying to count their number, but gave up halfway. "Must be at least two hundred," he murmured.
"No-no-no... fruit, fruit, fruit... is sweet!"
A small smile tugged at his lips. "They're debating their next meal," he mused. "Must be nice, being so carefree and silly all day."
For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of sitting among them, basking in their simplicity and enjoying the absurd chatter.
As he moved closer, the crunch of a dried twig underfoot shattered the tranquil air.
"Look! Monster, monster, monster! Danger, danger, danger! Fly, fly, fly!"
The synchronized sound of fluttering wings erupted as the flock scattered into the sky, their cries of alarm echoing through the clearing.
John froze, watching their retreat, a puzzled look crossing his face. "I might have spooked them," he muttered. "But I'm a bird too!"
"Well, so much for enjoying the moment," he sighed, scratching the back of his head.
Shaking off the awkwardness, he continued his stroll. Soon, he noticed movement in a nearby bush—two snow-white rabbits nibbling on leaves. He stopped, curious, but they spotted him almost immediately.
Their wide eyes darted in his direction before they bolted away, muttering in rapid, high-pitched tones, "Scary scary, run run!"
John chuckled dryly. "Great. Even rabbits think I'm terrifying."
Further along, he stumbled upon a pack of monkeys playing in the canopy of a tall tree. They swung from branch to branch, chattering excitedly as they mimicked human activities.
For a moment, John thought he'd finally found some creatures who wouldn't run at the sight of him.
That hope vanished when they noticed him. Their playful screeches turned to panicked shrieks as they scrambled higher into the trees, vanishing into the dense foliage.
"Nice! They're acting like they've seen a fiend," John muttered, rubbing his temple.
Still, he shrugged it off, choosing to view the strange reactions in a positive light.
"At least I'm making an impression," he joked.
But his optimism wavered when he spotted a fully grown mountain lion basking in the sun just ahead. Its powerful frame and piercing gaze immediately put him on edge. For a moment, he considered turning back.
Before he could act, the lion locked eyes with him. Its ears flattened, and it let out a startled roar. To John's astonishment, the beast bolted, tail tucked, as if fleeing for its life.
John stood frozen for a moment, then let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Okay, now I understand why they're so spooked when they see me. It's gotta be my human features. They must associate me with those cultivators—the ones who do those monthly pet harvests, snatching up nearby beasts in brutal fashion."
He thought deeply, his expression darkening. "At this rate, forget about taming a single beast—I can't even approach a mindless, harmless insect without them running away in terror."
As if to underscore his point, an army of giant ants emerged from the underbrush nearby, their shiny exoskeletons glinting in the sunlight. They paused for a moment, their antennae twitching as they picked up his scent.
In unison, the ants turned and scurried back into their nest, their orderly retreat resembling a well-disciplined army avoiding an imminent battle.
John slapped a wing to his face, groaning. "Not even ants? Seriously? Fine! If even they won't stick around, it's safe to assume there's no real danger here—aside from a few stronger transmigrated beasts, maybe."
He shook his head, steadying himself. "Alright then, let's take a look around this mountain, and see where the beasts, birds, and insects make their homes. If I map this place out, I'll have a better shot when I come back with a solid plan."
John moved swiftly down the mountain, navigating the uneven terrain with ease.
He took note of flocks of birds perched in the trees, monkeys hanging from hollow branches, and snakes basking on the sun-warmed rocks.
Pausing occasionally, he observed claw marks on tree trunks, trampled grass, and fresh tracks in the soil.
His curiosity drove him deeper, but the eerie silence of the forest kept him on edge.
"Patience," John muttered, exhaling slowly. "This is just recon. No taming, no fighting—just mapping the land."
As the sun sank lower, the shadows stretched across the mountain, and the warmth of day gave way to the coolness of twilight.
Standing at the edge of a clearing, he glanced around and muttered, "Time to head back to the cave. In the darkness, even the skittish might find the courage to strike."
The journey back was quiet, but every rustle of leaves and distant chirp heightened his unease.
By the time he reached the cave, the world had been swallowed by the pitch black of night. The darkness felt almost oppressive, yet the twinkling stars above provided a brief moment of solace.
He caught his breath at the cave's entrance, feeling the familiar shift as his body morphed back into his bird form.
Flying into the cave, he chirped to himself, "This is better. No need for that crappy spell to turn back. At least now I know I can maintain the human form for at most three and a half hours."