Death Comes In Many Forms 4 (1/2)

A rhythmic smacking noise echoed through the dungeon. It was the sound of wood being slammed against stone. The cause of this disturbance was an idiotic box that had just realized its mistake.

The Mimic swayed furiously on its numerous tiny legs and smashed its side into the rock wall for the upteempth time.

You have suffered minor blunt trauma. HP -2.

The familiar message had been repeating itself intermittently over the last ten minutes. The moron in question was punishing itself for being overly eager. Just when things were getting good, it had let an amazing chance slip away. Surely even a single one of that Necromancer’s Skills or Jobs would have given it a tremendous power boost!

“KISHAAAAA!” it yelled and smashed itself against the wall with a bit of extra force.

You have suffered minor blunt trauma. HP -5.

Enough was enough. This behavior was getting it nowhere while wasting valuable HP. It calmed itself down and began cleaning up the mess like usual. It didn’t bother with the numerous giant rat corpses though - those were already crumbling to dust. Another few minutes and they will have completely returned to the dungeon that spawned them.

After its lair had been returned to its former unsoiled glory, it scuttled back to its spot and resumed its disguise as a ‘wounded’ wooden chest. And it waited.

Hours turned to days and days turned to weeks. The Mimic patiently stood there without moving a single muscle. It didn’t mind though. It was pretty much born for this sort of thing. But every living being had a limit to how long it could sit around and do absolutely nothing.

You are hungry. Automatic HP and MP recovery are now halved.

Something inside the Mimic growled. Its bottomless pit of a stomach was running on empty. The most primal need to eat and survive clashed with the Mimic’s natural hunting instinct. Should it abide by its Hider’s Intuition or follow the impulse to seek prey immediately. This was an important decision for this creature. After all, it had never ventured more than a dozen or so meters from its birthplace.

Having made up what passes for its mind, it sprouted its numerous tiny legs and lifted itself off the ground. Lunch was unlikely to come on its own, so it would go find it instead. It scuttled sideways towards the direction most of its prey had come from. However, it paused when it reached the edge of the unnaturally smooth and even ground found around its birthplace. It had tried to walk further once before, only to have jagged rocks and pebbles poke and scrape its sensitive underside. It was not a pleasant sensation. Therefore, its current mode of transportation would need to be revised.

The Mimic put its Shapeshift Skill to use. It could change the structure of its body to a certain degree, but its species - that of Mimic (Lesser) - could not completely abandon its original box-like shape. What it could do, however, was alter the other bits of its body. It sat on the ground and retracted its tiny limbs. After a short while, six smooth, long, spider-like legs grew out steadily from its sides.

While it may not be able shift its body as freely as something like a Slime or Mud Elemental, it did have a natural talent for imitating things. After all, Mimics gotta mimic. And in this situation, it was copying the appearance of a small spider that made its nest directly above the Mimic’s resting spot. Having literally nothing better to do over the last two weeks, the monster simply observed the tiny arachnid with its magical perception. The way its multi-jointed legs climbed up the wall and walked along its thread were thoroughly entertaining, so it ended up memorizing quite a few of those movements. And now would be the time it would put that knowledge to use.

It tried to stand up on its new legs and failed miserably. The stick-like legs were too weak and too long to lift the faux-wood body. After readjusting their thickness and length several times, it finally found the right balance and stood upright. The spider-chest then made a few experimental steps. However, keeping itself from falling over proved to be tricky. Having the legs come out at the sides made the monster worryingly unsteady whenever it moved forward or backwards. It had to learn how to distribute its weight and control its center of gravity for the first time.

Eventually it simply found it easier to change where the legs came out from. Rather than all six coming out from its sides, it spread them out evenly. One on the left, one on the right, two in the front, two in the back. Like this, it could move quickly and comfortably across any terrain the dungeon threw at it. It could even get quite a bit of speed, although stopping itself without the help of a wall or the floor proved to be a challenge.

Proficiency level increased. Shapeshift is now Level 3. AGI +1. DEX +1. END +2.

*GURURURU*

The Mimic had no time to enjoy the slight power-up. Time was ticking! Screwing up its determination, it took its first steps into the complete unknown. Its perception had no trouble penetrating the dark, but the range was limited. So the Mimic could only move slowly and quietly, keeping as low to the ground as possible without scraping its sensitive bottom against the hard ground.

Ideally it would have used Stealth, but moving around under its effects rapidly drained MP. That’s not something it was willing to do considering its stunted recovery speed.

It shuffled up and down the tunnels, passing by its fellow monsters. They were all born from the same 'womb' and thus shared a slight telepathic connection with each other. They were not hunter and prey, but kin. So rather than get in each other’s way, the different species of monsters simply exchanged curt greeting-like gestures as they walked past each other.

The Mimic kept searching the tunnels, actively hunting for prey. But it never found any. In fact, all this moving around simply made things worse.

You are ravenous. Automatic HP and MP recovery are now disabled.

While waiting in ambush, Mimics enter a sort of suspended animation. This not only allowed them to better preserve their energy and stamina, it also meant their presence was thinned out. So having a shut-in like that suddenly move around would make it tired without question. The frustrated monster had every right to wonder why it had to go through all this hassle just for a meal.

In reality, this sequence of events was more or less the natural order of things.

Every dungeon had something called Minimum Monster Level. This depended on the quality and quantity of mana permeating through the air and ground. Monsters sprang forth naturally over time in such places, birthed from seemingly thin air by the abnormally high concentrations of magical energy. Denser mana would naturally give birth to more powerful monsters.