The vine returned later that day, just as he had finished planting the second seed to make up the promised pair of trees to keep the cloud tree company. They each sat a small distance away to avoid tangling roots, and the second had slowly begun to sprout. He unfortunately couldn't stay to watch them grow, the plants having told him in a panic that the vine needed him. And when he saw it, he knew it really did.
The poor vine looked like a dried-up root with chip marks, more than the thick vine that had left. The sun clearly having affected it far more than he expected as he rushed to get it some water. The little world tree telling him how it had gone out as far as it could and stumbled onto a large group of people, how one had clipped it a few times with their sword as it tried to flee.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you head out so far. I was told you could manage as long as you got moisture and water, but I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I really am sorry." He told the vine, gently having it brought over to the cloud tree where a thin layer of water began to wash over it. Feeling relief as it slowly began to swell back up, slowly forming back into the vine that had originally left except with a few gashes that had him wincing. The world tree telling him how it felt proud of the wounds, that it made it feel like it had accomplished something important.
"You did good, little guy. You really did. They seemed to be just outside the roots of the world tree, or were quiet enough for it to overlook them, possibly even seeming like beasts. I'm not blaming you for missing them, by the way. I can't expect you to spread your focus that thin. But now we know they're coming and from what direction. You can try to listen in now for us and keep me informed of what they might say or be planning." He gently said, rubbing the small root of the world tree that had been following him around all day.
The little world tree soon told him they were moving at a steady pace. It couldn't tell numbers or hear much, but that they would reach him that night, making him frown. Confused why they would risk attacking at night before realizing they no doubt planned to take him out and use his own defenses to protect themselves once taking the village.
He couldn't help but feel he had jinxed himself, having commented on the lack of people and now had a group of bandits planning to storm his home. It caused him to feel an odd kind of coldness in his chest, a strange sense of certainty that they didn't come with good intentions, rather to take what was his. Something he would not let them take easily.
The sun had just begun to set that evening with Chris sitting on the vine hut, enjoying the sunset while keeping watch for the coming bandits. But even so, he couldn't stop a small smile from forming on his face as he listened to the newly grown fig tree and strange yam tree. Both once more showing he had greatly messed up in their growth. The fig tree for starters dripped a milky-like fluid, sweet and rich in taste, and had already begun growing small fruits upon its branches. Having shyly told him that it hoped he would enjoy them once they were ready, how the cloud tree's moisture had been a fantastic help in getting it all the water it needed, and that its leaves were easily making special juices for him.
He wisely chose not to think too hard on its wording, having instead turned his focus onto the yam tree of all things. Its branches were thin with thick leaves, and its roots seemed to have turned after reaching a certain depth and formed a thick, woody dome around its base with splintering roots hanging off of them, each slowly growing potato-looking bulbs. Its voice seemed far more steady, simply telling him its fruit would be ready the following day before talking somewhat happily to the cloud tree and newly grown fig tree. It seemed rough and abrasive, but he couldn't help but feel it was just its personality. There was nothing personal involved in it.
His smile soon disappeared as he let out a sigh, gripping his staff before asking the vines to lower him down. The bandits were nearly there, the small world tree telling him they would arrive any minute now. The scream flowers along the wall had already begun to pulse softly in rhythm with his breathing, while the mobile gympie vines, four of them now including the scout, began to slither slowly in circles around the perimeter before settling among the bamboo. Their red blooms tilted towards the approaching threat like sentries. The bronze bamboo stood motionless near the gate, thick and gleaming, still waiting for the ancient ent to claim it, and hoped that this would be when it was finally used, while the spike-ball clusters, who had multiplied to eight now, bristled ever so slightly as they readied themselves as his organic minefield.
He couldn't hear them, but after what happened with the moving vines, he realized he could feel them if he focused hard enough. It wasn't voices like the originals, though. Rather being something like a low hum in the back of his skull that let him know they were alert and ready. Just waiting for his signal.
Chris slowly walked over, choosing to meet the coming threat on his terms and at his pace. "Here we go." He softly whispered to himself.
He didn't shout. He didn't bark orders. He didn't need to. The plants already knew and had already begun to plan and position.
A minute later he saw the torches drawing closer and frowned at their numbers. Fifteen of them. Far fewer than he had expected, but all moving in a clear but loose formation across the sands. Clearly not rabble this time. They were organized. He could even make out some of them wearing actual armor rather than just leather strips or furs. As they got closer, he easily noticed every one of them had at the bare minimum leather armor reinforced with metal plates. They also had actual weapons ranging from short swords to axes. He could even spot someone with a bow. At their front walked a tall man in a scarred breastplate, a tower shield slung across his back and a longsword at his hip. He carried himself like someone used to giving orders. The air about him completely different than the rest.
He began to curse when he noticed that the two at the back of the group were dragging a crude cart loaded with what he realized was oil jars and pitch-soaked rags. They'd come prepared this time.
The leader stopped just a bit out of range of his clumped spike bushes and raised a hand. The torches fanned into a loose half-circle around him as he turned to face Chris.
"Grower!" He shouted. Voice rough yet carrying easily in the still air. "We know what you did to our people. A scout watched the whole damn thing before reporting back to me. We know what you are. Now either come out and talk, or we burn this freak show of yours to the ground."
Chris didn't answer right away or even move from his position just inside the gates, choosing to look over each of the bandits and their leader, choosing to let the silence stretch for a beat.
Then one of the mobile vines moved. It slid out from between the bamboo and kept low, moving swift and steadily while staying below the torchlight, using the flickering shadows to its advantage. The red flowers slowly opening but only a crack before releasing a steady flow of sweet scent that drifted on the night breeze across those by the cart. The bandits didn't even seem to notice it at first.
It was then that Chris finally spoke, voice calm and carrying just far enough. "You're a bit late, honestly. I expected this to come much sooner. It might have worked out better for all of you if you did."
The leader laughed at that, short and harsh. "Late? Bah, we've been watching you. Our scout saw your creepy moving vine and cut it down. He has also seen those strange flowers of yours scream and kill a mutt. It's why we made sure to bring enough fire to burn your little garden to ash before your monsters can reach us, boy."
As he spoke, another vine stealthily moved through the shadows. Then another, until all four were now behind them, and carefully around the cart.
Chris tilted his head, a somewhat mocking smile on his face as he leaned on his staff and looked at the leader. "Are you sure about that?"
The scream flowers triggered almost in unison, having shifted slowly across the wall before letting out a sharp, piercing burst of mental and audible noise focused entirely onto the bandits. The closest to the wall slowly began to stagger, hands flying to their heads as they tried to stop the noise. One of them even dropping their sword and screaming aloud as blood trickled from his ears. The leader snarled and swung his shield up like it could block sound, gritting his teeth as he powered through the audible assault.
That was when the mobile vines chose to strike. The first one lunging upward and wrapping around the leg of the nearest torch-bearer, causing the man to go down hard and his torch to fly. The vine's thorns—softened for mobility but still sharp enough—slowly began to dig into him, causing him to howl in pain as the toxin, weaker than the original and second gen but still potent, began to flood his system. As if to make absolutely sure, it began to wrap around his neck, its thorns puncturing his windpipe. He tried to claw desperately at his neck, gasping and panicked before slowly going limp.
The second vine chose to hit the cart. It coiled around one of the oil jars and yanked hard. The jar shattering on the ground as it fell. The pitch spilling across the ground before some of the oil touched the dropped torch, setting it ablaze. The vine barely having enough time to escape before the flames roared up in an orange wave.
The bandits scattered in panic, giving the third and fourth vines an opening to move in tandem. One wrapped the legs of an axe man, quickly dragging him screaming toward the wall, while the other went straight for the leader, clearly hoping to strike him from behind.
The man reacted fast, though. Either from years of survival or pure experience, he had already drawn his longsword in a single smooth motion and hacked downward. The blade biting deeply into the vine as green sap sprayed across him. The vine recoiled in what Chris knew was pain, its flower shrieking in a way Chris could clearly feel it echo in his head, coming across as a sharp burst of pain that made him wince and almost recoil.
The leader grinned through the chaos. Noticing the way he recoiled. "Hahaha, not so fun when it's one of yours now, is it? Your monsters seem to bleed. Why don't we see if you bleed too."
He didn't reply, instead simply raising his staff in preparation for a fight. Flames rising higher behind the bandit leader as the ancient ent gently gripped the bronze bamboo, raising it up as it came loose from the ground, the pair mimicking him from behind.
There was soon a low metallic hum rolling through the ground as the ancient ent smacked the bronze bamboo onto the ground. Its reach managing to crush an unfortunate bandit as the ents around it used their branches to grip a few of the silver bamboos. As the ancient ent let out a roar, the others began to throw their bamboo spears. Hard and fast, they punched through armor, through leather, and through flesh. Three more bandits going down instantly, pinned like insects, while two more staggered back, clutching their wounds.
The scream flowers went off again. This time louder and with a wider area. The mental noise rolled outward in a near-visible wave this time, causing half the remaining bandits to drop to their knees, screaming in pain as they covered their ears. Blood running from noses as their eyes rolled back.
The mobile vines didn't hesitate, striking at the still-standing bandits, going for the throat like angry snakes and causing more to fall one by one as the flames roared higher.
The leader roared angrily as he charged the gate. All reason having been lost as his men continued to go down, his only desire now to kill Chris. He made it ten steps before the clustered spike balls burst from the ground.
He seemed to be expecting it, though, as he tried to jump across them. But his leap was slightly too slow, a few thorns catching his leg and causing him to stumble directly into another. Its thorns punching through his calf, making him scream.
He didn't stop, though. Instead forcing himself to continue forward, swinging his blade to slice one of the clusters in half as he drew closer to Chris, uncaring about the ancient ent. He rose his blade, flipping it in his grip upon realizing he wouldn't reach him and prepared to throw it. Before it could leave his grip, thick roots burst from the ground, gripping his arm and jerking it down. His legs soon being broken by another set of roots before a third rose up and slammed into the side of his head, knocking him over. Allowing many more roots to rise up and bind him, a few piercing his chest and limbs.
He didn't shout or gloat. Instead simply walking over to the fallen leader, letting his gaze pass over the scattered bodies, watching as the vines began to kill the remaining bandits who had already been disabled. Watching the sight of blood fly into the air with the fire acting as a backdrop.
"Enough." He finally said, his voice soft but still managing to carry over the chaos and cause the vines to freeze.
The only movement left was the fire crackling behind the downed bandits and their leader's shallow breathing, a few hacking coughs mixed in.
The leader simply breathed with difficulty, his gaze locked firmly towards the figure silhouetted against the stars.
"You came for revenge," he said simply, crouching down next to the fallen leader. "I can't say I don't understand. I mean, they were your people. It only makes sense. But this is my home, and I refuse to lose it. You came for a fight; instead, you just led your men to their deaths. What happened to the rest, though? I thought there would be more, since the fodder last time had more people."
The leader coughed blood, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Chris briefly before he seemed to give a wet, blood-filled sigh. "This was our last shot. A damn armored monster in human form ran through our camp, slaughtered my men as we were finishing our preparations to come here. What stood here were what was left of us. My best men and what I could salvage to try and burn your monsters and take this place to start over." He began, spitting out a mouthful of blood onto himself as he tried to turn his gaze away from Chris, wanting the last thing he sees to be the bright moon and glistening stars. "Can't say this was the worst way to go, though. Better than what that monster would have done and a hell of a lot better than being eaten alive. Here's some advice to remember, kid: the strong make the rules in this world. The weak can only follo—" The final word dying on his lips as the life left him. Making Chris frown.
Casting his gaze across the burning battleground, he let out a sigh of his own. Walking over and gently picking up the wounded vine, telling the strange vines that they couldn't eat the bandits or their leader before ordering the remaining mobile vines to carry the leader's body into the camp. Asking the pitcher to create some more amber-like fluid to help preserve it after asking the ancient ent to release the body.
Their leader may have been a bandit. He may have killed, looted, and done many unspeakable things. But he clearly held his men close. He wouldn't have gotten so mad at their deaths if he wasn't. He also didn't try to flee as his men were killed. No shouts of vengeance or even over-the-top threats. He was confident and went down with his men. For that, Chris would at least show him a bit of respect and let him rest properly in the morning. But even so, he would inspect the body, look for the dungeon gem Walter had taken, and if returning it calmed the dungeon, then that would be great. If it didn't, though, then he would just deal with whatever crawled out next. Till then, he ordered his plants back and for the gate to be sealed as he carried the vine to the medical grass. He could already hear the wolves and mutts, and this many bodies and blood would be a veritable feast for them, possibly even drawing worse beasts over. He had even noticed the 'tributes' he had left every few days being ignored and didn't know what that meant. Unsure if it was a good thing or not.