Everybody Loves Large Chests

The force of the blow sent Boxxy sliding across the white sands. Its many limbs carved miniature trenches into the soft ground as it tried to kill its momentum. The monster was unable to stop itself completely before a comically oversized anvil came hurtling towards it. It barely managed to jump to the side as the lump of metal flew past it and impacted the ground behind it with a thunderous thud. The shapeshifter’s form then expanded into a fleshy ring just wide enough for a wooden cart to pass through it. The malleable mountain of muscle then flattened itself against the ground as a barrage of suspiciously sharp bottles flew over it.

“Oh-hoh! Nice dance moves you got there!” Lucius bellowed mockingly. “I bet you absolutely kill it at parties.”

Boxxy did not deign that taunt with a response. It merely reformed itself and started pulling a new set of magical armaments from its Storage. Its initial choice of enchanted weapons had already been rusted through and turned to dust by the djinn’s power over erosion. It had expected something like that would happen, so it had come prepared with plenty of back-ups. The shapeshifter had just finished arming each of its ever-changing array of limbs with one deadly implement or another when an entire house fell on top of it.

Boxxy activated Disrupting Wave moments before it got crushed. The Skill released a pulse of anti-magic that instantly reduced the hurtling structure to a harmless - if unpleasant - shower of white sand. A few of its tentacles coordinated to fire a volley of freezing arrows from Winter’s Bite, the Artifact-grade longbow. The weapon’s guided projectiles flew unerringly towards their target, but they never reached it. A huge statue in the shape of a mounted knight exploded up from the pearly dunes, easily blocking the ranged attack. Said sculpture was then flung at Boxxy, forcing the shapeshifter to retreat farther back while its anti-magic pulse was still recharging.

All of these heavy-looking objects might have been fakes and replicas conjured out of sand, but they still hurt like the real deal if one were to get struck by them. Furthermore, considering the vast quantities of raw material available, Boxxy’s adversary was unlikely to run out of ‘ammunition’ any time soon. One could argue the shapeshifter really should have thought things through before it attacked the Sage of the Sands in the middle of his desert domain. However, the abomination had a really good reason for turning violent.

It did not like the way this Lucius fellow kept evading its questions. It didn’t matter that he was an ancient being that rivaled an Overlord in destructive power. Boxxy had decided it was at a stage where it was done taking shit from anyone, a level where even the first djinn was not above a good thrashing. The abomination felt confident it could triumph in an exchange of blows, but it wasn’t given the chance to fight as it pleased.

As befitting a demon born from sloth, Lucius fought remotely without physically exerting himself. His corporeal avatar was in the shape of a grotesquely deformed twelve-tailed fox that was big enough to rival the abomination’s own size. Though Boxxy had succeeded in drawing that form out of the sands, it could not get close enough to really lay into it. Those enormous objects the demon kept throwing about did relatively minor damage, but the sheer amount of mass behind each one kept forcing Boxxy further away. The distance between them had already extended to more than fifty meters - far beyond the effective range of most of its attacks. The most vexing thing about the situation was the way the vulpine creature grinned smugly at the shapeshifter while lazily curled up on a massive cushion.

“Let’s try something with a bit more ‘oomph,’ shall we? Something a bit more theatrical,” Lucius pondered aloud, his voice echoing in the wind. “Let’s see… Oh, I think I have the perfect thing!”

The sands beneath Boxxy suddenly opened up as they took on the shape of a colossal twenty-meter-wide mimic’s maw. The shapeshifter did not expect the demon to be capable of altering the terrain on such a grand scale and was caught unawares. The massive imitation clenched its jaws around the abomination, swallowing it whole. Though not visible from the outside, countless spear-like teeth filled the opening with the intent of puncturing their victim from all sides.

However, though the sand-fox-demon could not see within his mockery of a creation, he knew that his attack hadn’t landed. Even between two beings of such immense power, the damage-dealing notifications of one’s Status served as a foolproof hit confirmation tool. Not only that, but Lucius could no longer sense the abomination’s presence within his domain. It had suddenly vanished the instant it was engulfed by the toothed chasm. This puzzled the djinn greatly, as he could not fathom where Boxxy had gone.

“Oh, my. Now this is a surprise!”

That said, he didn’t seem too bothered by its sudden disappearance. If anything, he was enjoying it. Much like any demon over a millennium old, Lucius deeply treasured each and every new experience he encountered. He had no idea how Boxxy had pulled off that vanishing act, and that excited him so much that he actually lifted his head. He wanted to savor the mystery as much as he could, but he knew this moment was all too fleeting. After all, from what he knew of the former Hero of Chaos, it would not waste an opportunity to strike at its opponent.

True to form, Boxxy emerged from the Dark Domain directly above Lucius and lunged at him with its cursed demon-slaying spear. The fox-djinn’s enchanted sands could not shield him in time and his host body was pierced in the neck. Lucius let out an ear-splitting howl completely unbecoming of his stature. In the next instant, the twelve-tailed fox-monster collapsed into a bloodied heap. It was unconscious, but alive. All of the enchanted sands floating around the area fell to the ground inert and lifeless, but not before they spelled out a message in the air.

It would appear that the djinn had decided to flee the scene completely. It made sense, of course. The monster he had been possessing wasn’t worth risking complete oblivion over. Though it had served him well as a vessel, the hideously deformed kitsune was but one of dozens of potential hosts he had lined up. The only reason he even bothered to fight Boxxy at all was because he wanted to toy with the creature. In fact, that was also the reason why the abomination got violent in the first place. The way it kept getting more and more frustrated as Lucius glibly dodged its questions and demands had been extremely entertaining for the self-proclaimed sage.

With the source of its ire gone, Boxxy could do little but finish the job. It executed the knocked-out kitsune while emitting a guttural roar of frustration. The thought that this sort of reaction was precisely what Lucius had been hoping for did little to calm it down. Repeatedly stabbing and mauling the dead fox-thing’s corpse helped, though. By the time it was done, the kitsune’s remains were so brutalized that they resembled an entire herd’s worth of minced beef.

After getting that pent up aggression out of its system, the abomination set about the dull cycle of using Summon Familiar and then waiting for its MP to recover. It was yet another in the long list of annoyances for which Lucius was responsible for. The djinn had woven all kinds of dungeon-like enchantments and traps into his lair, such as a Spell-dampening field and anti-flight countermeasures. The most infuriating defensive measure had been some kind of familiar nullification wave. It had instantly petrified the abomination’s demonic entourage into sandstone statues, which forced their souls back into the Beyond.

In short, the fox-demon had enjoyed a significant home field advantage. Boxxy likely wouldn’t have been able to so much as scratch the bastard if not for its Phantasmal item. The encounter had also served as a reminder that seeking an audience with an elder dragon was an immensely terrible idea. Dragons were immensely powerful by themselves, but their lairs were extremely dangerous in their own right. That was why, during the Festival, Boxxy had put so much time and effort into forcing a fight with Azzyth on neutral ground. Challenging her on her home turf would have been nothing short of actual suicide.

And yet, even knowing all that, the stubborn creature refused to alter its plans. It figured that the four elders would at least hear it out so long as it showed up to their doorsteps with adequate tribute. If Boxxy’s interactions with Hazalag had been any indication, all the shapeshifter had to do was pique their interest. To that end, it had prepared a few very special gifts that it hoped would catch each elder’s fancy. Speaking of which, and seeing as it was already in the area, the abomination figured it might as well try to track down the elder said to dwell in the unexplored regions of the Pearly Dunes.

Vuzil, also known as ‘The White Death,’ had been the reason why the nomadic beastkin refused to venture into the south-eastern quadrant of the desert. It was the most likely site of the dragon’s lair according to all of the information, legends, and rumors that Boxxy had collected over the years. Its investigation claimed that the elder had dwelled there for a dozen centuries and that he was solely responsible for the Pearly Dunes’ existence. The pure-white color of the sand certainly supported that theory, but it was difficult to ascertain the validity of such claims. There had been no confirmed sightings of Vuzil for hundreds of years at the least, but that was mostly because only one in twenty people actually returned from exploring his supposed domain. As such, the great white dragon continued to be shrouded in mystery.

However, Boxxy’s recent experiences with the Dragon Festival had given it some new insight into the matter. Given the lore it had collected about the Shattered Isles and Vuzil himself, it deduced that the elder in question was most likely a mithril dragon. Their kind was said to have brilliant white scales that glistened like the precious metal they were named for, while also possessing an inherent mastery over force magic. The most destructive implementation of said element was disintegration - the ability to reduce any solid matter to dust. The breath of mithril dragons possessed such a property, which made them the most dangerous variant of their species.

Knowing that, it wasn’t difficult for Boxxy to imagine that the desert it was treading was the result of a mithril elder going on a prolonged rampage. The abomination was also planning to remain on its best behavior when and if it came face-to-box with Vuzil. The only reason it allowed itself to lash out at Stain and Lucius was because it felt certain it could either win or escape those confrontations. It had no delusions of being able to overcome an irate elder. Though violently depressed, the shapeshifter wasn’t actually suicidal. Not yet, at least. Ideally it wanted to use Snack as an intermediary rather than personally conversing with Vuzil, but there was a chance that might somehow offend the elder.

Boxxy was getting ahead of itself, however. It had to actually find the dragon first, so it set about doing so the instant it was done resummoning its familiars. The self-proclaimed sage’s lair was relatively close to Vuzil’s purported place of residence, so the abomination and its demonic entourage ventured across the desert on foot. Initially they followed Xera’s Guiding Light, but it rapidly became apparent that the djinn’s clairvoyance magic could not be trusted for this task.

The Skill in question was fairly accurate and reliable, but only when its user actually wanted to find whatever they were searching for. Xera had no desire to locate Vuzil. In fact, the opposite was true. She personally wished to avoid encountering an elder as she secretly feared for her master’s safety. This conflict of interests made her Guiding Light erratic and inconsistent. Boxxy couldn’t just order Snack to change her thinking against her will, either. Such a thing was beyond the control afforded to it by the summoning contract, and it didn’t feel like trying to convince her with words.

Nevertheless, the abomination was not dissuaded in the slightest. Though it had to give up on using Snack as a navigator, it could still find Vuzil’s place the old fashioned way. It wasn’t at all daunted by the thought of a prolonged expedition since it had mastered traversing the Pearly Dunes during its Sandman days. It knew how to navigate the region and dealing with the climate was a non-issue. Fire Affinity allowed it to ignore the scorching heat while the sun was out. It didn’t have Cold Affinity to negate the near-freezing temperatures at night, but Snack was on hand to radiate enough heat to keep her master comfortable. The wide range of abilities at Boxxy’s disposal had effectively trivialized the desert’s harsh environment.

The monster’s bound familiars were not as fortunate. Though their conjured bodies wouldn’t die of dehydration, they could still expire from exhaustion. The dry heat constantly sapped their energy, making them sluggish and weak. Drea was especially vulnerable in that regard, being an ice-attuned demon and all, and had to be carried during the day. If not, then she would be too tired to fight properly in case the need arose. Kora was the natural choice for that particular duty, so the spider-girl strapped herself to the hoarder’s massive back with some of her webs. The former fiend herself wasn’t doing too well, either. Though normally not an issue, her super-heavy armor was a huge hindrance in the desert, so she had been told to take it off in order to conserve her stamina. This left her in the slightly-too-tight shorts and top she had when she first met Boxxy.

As for Xera, her own Fire Affinity and ability to float along without any physical effort meant she was absolutely fine. This was bad, as it meant that she didn’t get to enjoy the carnival of suffering along with her coworkers.

The climate was far from the region’s only threat, of course. Those who traversed the Pearly Dunes had to contend with a myriad of monsters forged by the extreme environment. Illusion-wielding kitsunes led travelers astray, mindless wind elementals ripped anything they encountered to shreds, and train-sized sand worms could burst out of the dunes with no warning. There were other creatures to contend with, but the desert’s deadliest predators came out after sunset. Massive raven-like birds called yogarasu silently stalked the night sky while legions of catapult scarabs skittered across the cold sands. The former were definitely higher up the food chain, but the latter were a far more common danger.

Though no bigger than a lowly beetle, each catapult scarab had the ability to launch corrosive and explosive projectiles out of its bulbous behind. The insects also favored travelling in swarms, which allowed them to overwhelm other creatures with an unceasing barrage of pain. Once their prey had been subdued, the catapult scarabs would devour everything but their bones in a matter of seconds before moving onto their next victim. The voracious bugs would even cannibalize their own fallen as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

These were by far Boxxy’s biggest nuisance, but also the only one. All of the other monsters actively avoided the eldritch abomination. Either their instincts or their intelligence allowed them to recognize the shapeshifter as a being that would annihilate them without even breaking its stride. Catapult scarabs were the opposite. Not only were they immensely stupid, but something about the abomination’s bulbous fleshiness seemed to attract them from afar. The insects only saw Boxxy as a meal that could feed a hundred generations and didn’t even consider how hopelessly outmatched they were.

Frankly speaking, Boxxy didn’t need to actually do anything. The catapult scarabs did so little damage to it that they couldn’t overpower its body’s self-healing capabilities. It could have just ignored them and they would have died of exhaustion trying to kill it. However, taking their ranged attacks was an uncomfortable sensation akin to being repeatedly pricked by hundreds of pins and needles. Annoying things were annoying, so Boxxy ended up squashing those bugs the instant it encountered them. After a few nights of constantly being obliterated by the shapeshifter’s magic, the swarms of scarabs seemed to finally get the hint. Either that or the abomination had killed so many of them that there weren’t any left close enough to bother it. Whatever the case, Boxxy was quite relieved when the insects finally stopped pestering it.

However, it had been neither adaptation nor extermination that caused the catapult scarabs to cease their futile assault.

“Huff! Huff! Huff!” Kora panted heavily. “Hey, boss? Can we, huff, huff, take a break?”

“No,” Boxxy declined immediately.

“For real. Huff! I’m losing HP over here.”

The abomination took a few moments to verify whether that was actually the case. It confirmed that Arms was indeed steadily losing vitality, at which point it ordered the demonic procession to halt.

“Ugh. Thanks, boss,” the hoarder groaned as she plopped her butt on the sand. “Today feels, huff, way hotter than usual.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Boxxy declared. “The temperature is actually a bit lower than yesterday.”

“You sure? Huff, huff, huff, because I think Frost-Nips back there is about to pass the fuck out.”

“Tktktktktk…”

Indeed, Drea was so weak that she could just barely muster a quiet chitter even though she had been strapped to Kora’s back the whole time.

“What about Snack?” the monster turned to the djinn.

“I’m still fine, Master,” she bowed her head in response. “Unfortunately.”

“Define ‘fine,’” it insisted.

“Plump, juicy, delicious, and ready to be ravaged,” Xera said seductively.

“Damn, Mega-Tits. Huff, huff, huff, you’re getting thirstier by the day,” Kora remarked.

“Now that you mention it, I’m quite thirsty myself,” Boxxy noticed. “Unusually thirsty.”

“How about a tasty treat to go along with-”

“You be quiet,” it cut Xera off. “I’m thinking.”

The shapeshifter was able to control the rate at which its body lost moisture to a severe degree, but it still required regular water intake. Alleviating its thirst was as simple as drinking one of those Rehydration Tonics it never got to use during its trip through space. The problem was that it shouldn’t have been thirsty enough to need one for another three hours at the least. Nothing seemed different, yet it was losing moisture much quicker than the past few days. Boxxy had been rather obsessive about rationing its supplies appropriately after its interplanetary incident, so it was quite certain something abnormal was going on.

It wasn’t just the abomination, either. Arms and Claws were severely more exhausted than they should have been even though neither were expending more energy than before. Granted, Boxxy had kept them walking constantly ever since the meeting with Lucius, but this didn’t seem to be a build-up of fatigue. For Arms to start losing HP, she would need to exert herself so much that there would be a waterfall of sweat coming off of her, yet she didn’t seem to be perspiring at all.

Actually, why wasn’t she?

Boxxy took a few moments to consult the knowledge available to it through the maxed-out Demonology Skill. Thanks to that, it was able to deduce that Arms and Claws were, in their own way, also suffering from accelerated dehydration. Their conjured bodies were using so much energy to counteract the loss of moisture that it left them with very little stamina to do much else. Now that Boxxy paid closer attention, the hoarder’s case was so severe that her vibrant red skin and rippling muscles seemed to be withering before its eyes. No wonder she was losing HP. Furthermore, she seemed incapable of catching her breath even though several minutes had passed since she sat down.

There was only one logical explanation for this turn of events - something was actively sucking the moisture out of Boxxy and its familiars. However, the shapeshifter’s many finely-tuned senses told it that there was effectively zero change in its environment. There weren’t any magical flows that might have been responsible, either. If anything, the air here was as devoid of mana as it was arid. If that was the case, then was the cause hidden underground? The blinding-white and scalding-hot sands seemed the same as ever, and peering under them with a Mana Locator Gland didn’t reveal any oddities or anomalies. And yet, the djinn who had not set foot on the ground even once was in perfect physical health.

After spending a few minutes considering all of the clues, Boxxy arrived at a theory.

“Arms, here,” it handed her one of its Rehydration Tonics. “Drink.”

Kora snatched the bottle and emptied it in two massive gulps. Because it was technically a potion, the refreshing effects of the tonic were also spread to the other two through the Soul Link Skill. Drea was far more appreciative of it than Xera, which she demonstrated by letting out a relieved sigh.

“Claws, I need you to weave shoes, gloves, robes, and cowls for yourself and Arms. Make sure you make them as watertight as possible.”

“Tktktktk… As you command, master.”

Drea had no idea where Boxxy was going with this, but she knew better than to question its logic. Also, she wasn’t going to complain about getting a chance to show off her thread-weaving abilities.

“Snack, come here and stand still. I need to perform an experiment.”

The djinn was clearly excited by the prospect and happily drifted forward. The shapeshifter coiled a tentacle around her, completely wrapping her in a cocoon of flesh. It then transformed the limb into a giant bronze screw and drilled it into the ground. The Metal Mimicry was undone and the tentacle was removed, leaving Xera buried up to her neck in the pearly sands. Boxxy then silently waited while its sallacious familiar attempted to comprehend what sort of experiment it was conducting.

All became clear about half an hour later. Xera was starting to dry up similar to Kora’s earlier condition even though she had just been bolstered by a Rehydration Tonic. The other two, who had been wrapped up in Drea’s spider-silk outfits, showed barely any signs of dehydration. This proved Boxxy’s hypothesis - the white sands actively sucked the moisture out of anyone that walked on them. This effect seemed to propagate through any substance or material that could hold water, including living bodies and possibly the air itself. That would explain why Claws had been affected even though she barely touched the sands, but seemed fine after ‘insulating’ herself with the watertight spider-silk. Last but not least, it was also the reason why those catapult scarabs had stopped pestering it. Their tiny bodies didn’t hold much moisture to begin with, so it seemed unlikely that they would survive this negative humidity.

With that mystery solved, the group proceeded forward by air. Xera hovered along like usual while Boxxy used the Fly Spell to carry both itself and the other two. The shapeshifter deemed this was the safest, fastest, and, most importantly, least bothersome option. It did have to concentrate on the magic the entire time, but it wasn’t as if its brain power was otherwise needed anyway. The only thing that required further analysis at that point in time was what would cause that part of the Pearly Dunes to be especially hostile. However, the abomination already had a hunch that they would find the answer to that once they found the elder dragon.

Boxxy thus began exploring the extra-dry part of the desert. Avoiding the thirsty sands hadn’t been too difficult at first, but then the shapeshifter started running into increasingly frequent sandstorms. The dehydration rate reached lethal levels inside those, but the monster discovered a countermeasure. Its Mana Shield was able to ward off the aggressively dry weather so long as the monster was extra-careful with managing its MP. It would appear that the sands also drained magical energy, which greatly heightened the barrier’s consumption rate.

None of it was enough to deter the shapeshifter, of course. The way the monster kept methodically combing the desert made it seem as if it was trying to prove itself more stubborn than the elder dragon it was looking for. After three whole days of wading through the worst the Pearly Dunes could throw at it, the creature noticed a series of twisted tower-like structures in the distance. It immediately headed towards them, and was thus finally able to locate Vuzil, the White Death.

Or, more specifically, what was left of him.

At the heart of the Pearly Dunes’ most inhospitable area, Boxxy found the skeleton of a very old, very large, and very dead dragon. The size was especially impressive. As best the shapeshifter could tell, the half-buried remains looked to be at least one half bigger than the ones it had encountered on the Shattered Isles. Other than the scale, they looked almost identical. Both sets of bones also shared the trait wherein they voraciously sucked up everything from their environment that even remotely resembled sustenance.

This discovery answered quite a few questions. For starters, this was clearly the reason why the white sands drained the life out of everything around them. It also explained the scarcity of reliable information on Vuzil, including the total lack of sightings. Not only was the elder too dead to make an appearance, but the sheer hostility of the environment would have either killed or warded off enlightened explorers who ventured too close to his remains. For that matter, the elder’s death was likely what created the Pearly Dunes in the first place. It wasn’t hard to imagine this was what an elder dragon’s bones would cause if left untouched for over a thousand years.

The skeletal remains might have explained quite a few of the region’s oddities, but they also raised one very important issue.

Dragons were creatures that never ceased to grow as they aged. Judging by Vuzil’s overwhelming size, he must have been especially ancient. This, in turn, meant his power would have been unrivaled even by the other elders. And yet, he was dead. That undeniable fact begged the question - who or what in the world could have killed such a being? Was it a group of lesser creatures ganging up on it, or perhaps an equally powerful, long-forgotten entity? If he didn’t die in combat, then did he succumb to a disease or debilitating condition of some kind? Perhaps the culprit was a complication caused by old age? It seemed far too mundane an end for such a magnificent and fantastic existence, but it was worth considering.

That last possibility was close to the correct answer, but there was more to it than that. Though dragons did not suffer the ravages of old age as most creatures did, the ever-increasing demands of their bodies would eventually outpace what their environment could provide. At some point it became impossible to sustain themselves no matter how much life or ambient mana they consumed. Even the simple act of hunting, swallowing, and digesting prey would expend more energy than it would recover. The dragon would thus unceremoniously starve to death. That had been Vuzil’s fate, and was the ending that awaited all of his kind.

For better or for worse, Boxxy was unable to figure out this sad truth no matter how much it racked its brain. As resourceful and clever as it was, the shapeshifter simply lacked the information it needed to reach a satisfying conclusion. Therefore, it gave up on trying to crack the puzzle. It might have pursued unraveling the mystery further - especially since it could provide hints as to how to fell an elder dragon - but that wasn’t why the shapeshifter was there. It had a very specific objective to accomplish, and it was no closer to achieving it than it had been before it came to the Pearly Dunes. Its week-long excursion through the desert had been a total failure in that regard, though it hadn’t been entirely for naught.

If nothing else, Boxxy had discovered a source of dragon gravy that could potentially surpass the one it found during the Festival. As tempting as it was to crack open Vuzil’s bones and have a go at their marrow, the abomination decided against it. It didn’t want its depression to sully or lessen the experience, so it resolved itself to return here once that was dealt with. It spent some time attuning its Bracelets of Translocation to the place so that it could more easily find its way back, then set off to pay a visit to Arisha Nightriver. Hopefully the nosferatu noblewoman would be able to recognize Boxxy despite its new species.

After all, it would be a shame if they got into a fight before the shapeshifter was able to ask its questions.