Reject Humanity, Return to Monke

Chapter 93 - Monke And Battle Royales (4)

After learning about the unwritten rules of the returning Dungeon Masters, I went back to constructing the flooring of the treehouse, as well as its walls. Finding another tree that was far enough from our base of operations, I felled it and quickly grabbed the logs and huffed it back to the treehouse.

Once there, the next step was forming the planks, and with these huge-ass logs, my current body made no sweat with carrying. It was just enough to fit the entire foundation.

After a grueling hour of using my axe to chop through the wood (it was made simple by discreetly using Earth magic to measure the planks, making sure the Prixais doesn't notice while she keeps a look-out above), I was finally able to gather enough planks to place all over the foundation.

Then, the next problem comes: how am I going to place the planks as well as nail them to the foundation without any nails?

Simple, have Prixais use her magic.

I asked her earlier about what she could do, and it turns out she's good at manipulating plants, though not to the level of growing trees in an instant, much less creating a treehouse by manipulating a tree to make it hollow.

But she was able to weld two pieces of different wood together, so I had her do it with the flooring. Now, you might be wondering, why didn't I have her use that kind of magic when tying the foundation of the treehouse to the giant tree?

Easy, she can't weld a still living plant together with wood, and a rooted tree with green leaves indicates that it is still very much alive, so I had to do it the old-fashioned way, during the time when there were no nails.

After the flooring was done, Prixais and I decided to try and see if it was good enough to use as a floor. It was, and the foundation didn't even creak when I jumped on the platform.

Overall, it was a good platform. All that's left are the walls.

I set out once more in search of a tree large enough and far enough away from the treehouse, making my way through the dense forest where there isn't a single living being or insect. That begs the question, though: how are we going to eat?

Food is a necessity. It's on par with water and shelter.

Water is not a problem. I saw a stream earlier and it was very easy to store some of it in my inventory. Whether it's drinkable or not could be solved with a bit of fire, since the stream was very clear with no hints of pollution or any kind of toxin to the body.

Shelter is already going to be provided by me working my ass off to make that treehouse.

Food, however, is a major problem. There are no living animals in this forest other than Dungeon Masters. Unless our hosts want us to kill each other to procure some food via their corpse, there must be another way to get some supplies.

And just as I was pondering the question, lo-and-behold, the solution to my problem came across in the most baffling manner possible.

My eyes squinted as the sun tried to blind me with its dangerous, shining rays. I could see a faint silhouette through the brightness, slowly falling down into the ground. It looked like a box attached to some kind of chute that made its descent to the ground slow.

'A goddamned air-drop… Like… What the fuck…?'

I had no idea whether to be surprised, shocked, or in disbelief. Like, where in the world did the Gods get this idea? Actually, never mind… That was a stupid question anyway…

'Damn reincarnees and their references… Not like I'm one to talk…' I grumbled as I made my way towards the spot where the drop would land.

It wasn't long until the crate landed on the ground with a thud, the chute laying itself flat on the ground. The crate also had something strapped on top of it. It was cylindrical in shape and had a hole in the top.

Moments later, it spewed out smoke. Not the kind of smoke that goes *poof* and slowly dissipates. No, I'm talking about big fire smoke, the ones that goes high above into the sky, darkening the area around it, but instead of black smoke, what came out of it was red smoke.

'The Gods do be referencing a bunch of games, lately…' I mused as I quickly opened the lid in hopes of stopping the smoke from emitting so that those who didn't see the initial puff of smoke wouldn't be alerted to this crate's presence.

Which worked, by the way…

Inside the crate, there were a bunch of supplies, from rations, water, armor, and weapons.

And I'm not talking about small children's weapons like knives, swords, and maces. I'm talking about big daddy's weapons like a motherfucking Thor's hammer replica, a buster sword, a staff I was sure belonged to some game, and a crossbow that shoots bolts like a fucking machinegun.

Looking around the area in case anybody was present when the crate landed, I quickly and silently stashed the crate into my inventory.

I'm going to have a blast inside my Dungeon with these weapons and armor.

That said, there was another Dungeon Master nearby, but they didn't seem to come out. Instead, they hightailed out of there like a predator was coming for their behind.

Shrugging, I looked for a tree that could be used as material, and found one. Chopping it down, I grabbed the logs and made my way back to the treehouse.

At least the food problem is solved… For now…

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~ Third Person POV ~

"You know, I've been thinking, who's this Drakhan guy you keep referencing when I deploy Sharok's Gauntlets?" The man who ran away from Kazanpan spoke to nobody in particular. His gaze focused on the back of his right hand, where a red jewel lay inserted.

=Drakhan: A legend borne from countless feats of awe. A mortal being said to be on par with the Gods and Goddesses ruling Praeccathae. Rumored to have died of old age. Sharok was his hometown=

The gauntlet let out a series of texts only the wielder could see floating above his hand. The man hummed, his other hand grabbing a flask hanging from his waist and taking a huge gulp from its contents.

"Puhaa~ Nothing tastes better than some good alcohol…" The man said woozily as he hung the flask back on his waist, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

'If he's on par with the shitty Gods of this world, I wonder if he's still alive..' The man thought as he kept his pace towards the Dungeon a few kilometers east of Kazanpan.