“Buffon. Stop calling me a bloody thief and spreading such ill rumors, would you? Didn’t you just do the same thing earlier? Oh, but it’s our well-deserved reward for saving your bums from that Giant Treant, even if you didn’t want to be helped.”
“Bwah?! You…! You’re mocking me…?! And you seem to possess the same disgusting Dark attribute as that lowly cur…! I’ll make sure a low-life like you will experience the pain you’ve subjected me to…! Tens of times over…!”
Shining under the warm morning sun, Buffon glared at me with the snot of a raging boar. It didn’t fit the beautiful clearing or the trees surrounding it.
Despite having his legs broken and crawling helplessly on the ground, he still had the energy to hurl insults and threaten me.
Yup, I hate their guts. This whole party should understand the pain and humiliation they’ve inflicted upon Rokoko. Oh, no. They should experience it multiple times over with their own bodies!
Gazing down at the Fellowship’s pathetic leader and meeting his vitriolic glare, I activated my bracelet once more, summoning a handful of items from my interdimensional storage.
It was a set of five high-level recovery potions. In fact, these were the same ones I’d used on Rokoko just now when her magical and physical energies were both severely scarce. These potions possess an extremely high efficacy and are capable of healing even broken limbs like theirs.
Catching a glimpse of the potions in my hand, the sack of sebum contorted his lips into an uneven grin while still crawling in the dirt.
“Bwah…! So you’ve come to regret your actions now, huh? No matter…! If you hand… hand those over right now and pledge to become my hunting dog along with the other one, I might consider sparing you…! Forgiving you for just a lifetime of labor…? I’m a generous one, y’know…!”
“Buffon. You can’t even speak properly in your sorry state, and you still yap about dog this and doggy that? You’re just a writhing worm,” I retorted.
Sparing him a mere glance as he continued to spout rubbish, I infused magic into my legs again. Swiftly, I ascended to the tallest tree in the whole forest, where I had spent the night.
Once there, I neatly lined up the five potions on a sturdy branch three times as thick as my arm.
Staring up at the sky, Buffon opened his mouth as a large glob of saliva slipped out like slime. I could only wince at his face covered in snot and drool. Ugh, how unpleasant.
Thinking such thoughts, I leaped down the tree and landed gracefully on the floor. Then, I addressed all the members of Buffon’s party.
“Hey, what are you all doing? This is the Forest of Bewitching Trees. It’s a lair of dangerous monsters, y’know? Don’t you understand what could happen if you stay there in your sorry states? Ah, don’t worry, I’ve provided you with recovery potions, so just hurry up and get them. Even with broken legs, you all should be able to crawl, right? Like worms?”
“Y-You say that, but how the hell are we supposed to get medicine that’s way up in that tree?!”
In place of Buffon and his unintelligible pig grunts, one of his party members—a scrummy guy who’d been looking down on Rokoko the most—spoke while still crawling.
Hm? But what was that scumbag on about?
“Why the dumb question? Obviously, to get a fruit from a tree, you climb it or shake the branch to make it fall! C’mon, stop your excuses and get on already.”
I pointed at the intimidating tree towering over them.
“You’ll have to crawl all the way there, just like a worm. Ah, but you’ll tear down your clothes and body with scratches as you do. And you’ll have to bang your battered, tired body against the ground, or the trunk, or a branch over, over, and over again. You’ll do it desperately just to shake that tall tree,” I crouched down to their level, almost whispering my next words. “Hurry up, or you’ll become wolf meat and end up as manure for the trees.”
My response to their stupid question was a cheerful smile.
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