Almost in spite of the fact that it would have been a very long time before Bernard won any kind of cooking award the grilled caiman tail ended up being delicious. Being half-starved probably had something to do with that but he wasn't going to complain. His belly was full and so far nothing seemed to disagree with him. It was time to move on to bigger problems.

For instance, the time spent cooking and eating the murder log under an open sky had allowed him to roughly determine which way was north. It was problematic because going north meant finding a way to cross the River of Death. He was pretty sure this wasn't actually the Amazon River too, since that one was supposed to be at least a half-mile across. Considerably more than that at its widest point too.

So it was probably a tributary. Which meant it likely fed into the big one at some point, and he had to hope that point was south of him. He only briefly toyed with the idea of trying to build a raft and just float down the river. The risk in that plan was blatantly obvious when he was standing near a waterfall. Going over a waterfall in a shoddily put-together raft on a river infested with giant reptiles would be bad for his health.

He figured his best bet at getting across it was to swim across now, under the assumption that the caiman was territorial. Or at least unusual for the area. He knew a bit about gators and crocs and hoped that knowledge was at least somewhat applicable. It couldn't be entirely useful of course, since he got attacked in daylight. Since the other kinds of murder logs he had read about tended to be nocturnal it meant there was either something going on he wasn't aware of or their behaviors were different.

It might have been moved or gotten lost too since he was semi-confident that they preferred swamps or lakes. Either way, his wooden armor should float, and even if there was another one he could probably handle it now that he knew how well his equipment fared in a battle with one. Interestingly enough the thorns had fallen off shortly after the beast died, and a thick sap had oozed from the gashes its teeth had carved in the wooden plates. The sap dried quickly, and an array of amber-like lumps adorned his torso and arm.

The first thing he had to do though, before anything else, was level. So far things were peaceful here, and with the local apex predator dead he hoped it would remain that way for a while. He opened his mouth to say 'level up' but was interrupted by a burst of silvery black smoke.

Congratulations! You have reached level three in your class, Arboreal Warden, you may select one of the following feats! Well-rooted, Hyphal Network, or Iron Bark.

"Huh, no new options I guess." He considered the choices for a while. He could admit Well-rooted would have served him pretty well against that caiman, but he still couldn't bring himself to select it. He still preferred avoiding situations where other things are trying to move him wherever possible. His armor also did a wonderful job filling the role Iron Bark would fill, and as such, he ruled that one out as well.

After a few minutes of convincing himself he wasn't picking it just to satisfy his curiosity, he selected Hyphal Network and the cloud of smoke dissipated. The change was immediate. Information flooded his mind, overwhelming him for a few minutes as he adjusted. It was mostly sensation, fleeting notions, and flashes of insight. There was also something going on to prevent him from losing his sense of self and sanity. Otherwise, he knew he would have cracked under the strain.

It implied that Aegis was deeply embedded in every fiber of his being, but he found it hard to care. The network he suddenly found himself tapped into was vast, and with every passing moment he learned more about his surroundings. Sure, most of it was relatively useless at face value, but amidst the noise there were some useful tidbits.

For instance, he could almost feel the flow of water and nutrients through the forest. Initially he dismissed those messages, until he realized that the flow of good water, strong sun messages followed the river. Nutrients passed between the plants along the network freely, and he was convinced that the forest was as close to being a single entity as was possible for a dizzying array of species.

He wasn't sure how long he ultimately ended up standing there, soaking in the sensations and exploring the network. It was fascinating and he was certain botanists would literally kill for the chance to do what he was doing. Pollinators, good. Seed-bearers, good. Parasites, bad. Pain-damage, bad. Nothing was in a format he could genuinely equate to words, but he understood it nonetheless.

Abomination!

He reeled at the intensity of the sudden impression he received. It was as though the forest itself was recoiling in disgust from something. Life and death mattered little to the forest, even the bad messages he received had been rather matter of fact and emotionless, this was something else. Something reprehensible had appeared relatively nearby, and his forest wanted it gone.

Without realizing it he began moving. Interestingly enough, the information he was receiving from the forest was drastically reduced while he was in motion. It came in bursts instead, taking a moment to reconnect every time he came into contact with the root network that twisted every which-way across the ground. The reduction in the strength of his connection was enough for him to question the wisdom of charging headlong at whatever it might be that the forest considered an abomination.

Every time he tried to stop though, the connection grew in strength and he would once again be compelled to eliminate the problem. Almost before he knew it he had drawn close to the source of the messages. That was when he received a new, stronger incentive to figure out what was going on.

"Mommy! Someone help my mommy!" Screams for help filled the air and all the hesitation left him. He didn't know how to fight, he had no idea what the problem was, all he knew was that somewhere up ahead a child needed help and instincts he hadn't even realized he had burst into the forefront of his mind.

When he reached the closest thing to a clearing he had encountered so far he finally saw them. A little boy, nine or ten years old at the most, was at the edge of where the trees got thick again. He was the one screaming for help, while his mother was doing her best to fend off a group of… scaled monkeys with claws, fangs, red eyes, and snake tails. The tails had their own snake heads too, with their own set of fangs and eyes.

He shuddered slightly, but charged into the fight without hesitating. He had armor on, and all the woman had was a largish stick. Things definitely weren't going well for her either, as she was bleeding from multiple places where the monkeys had managed to claw or bite her.

He shoulder-checked one that was leaping at her when he arrived, sending it sprawling. "Get back!" He shouted as he tried to clobber the one he hit. He didn't have time to finish it though, as three others promptly turned their attention to him and screamed as they threw themselves at him. Claws and fangs scraped across his armor, leaving alarmingly deep gouges in their wake as he began clubbing them with his thistle.

One hit each was his goal. He fully intended to lean on the poisonous, or was it venemous because he was injecting the poison? Nature of his weapon. Thorns began sprouting all over his armor as it took its own toll on the overly aggressive demon-monkeys as well. Each monkey he hit was thrown back a bit, only to be replaced by another, and before long he lost track of how many he had hit and how long he had been fighting them.

Screams filled the air, and he didn't know it the woman or child were still alive, or if it was just monkeys screaming. All he knew was that he was still under attack, and the only chance the others would have at survival was keeping the monkeys focused on him.

So he did.

He was surprised when the fight suddenly ended. He didn't know how many of the monkeys he had fought, he didn't know if he had killed them all or if some of them ran off, all he knew was he was suddenly alone in the clearing. Luckily only one of them had opted to follow the woman when she fled while the rest evidently found his existence just as repulsive as he found theirs.

Energy started flooding into him as he stood there trying to catch his breath. The cuts and scratches he had gotten during the fight began to heal remarkably fast. Gratitude. He realized that the forest was rewarding him for eliminating the threat and grinned. That was nice to know, he helped the forest and the forest helped him in return… He facepalmed. Well, he gauntlet-helmeted. It was quite literally the description of his class.

The wooden clack turned his focus to himself. Overall he was pleased with the effectiveness of his gear, but he was a bit disappointed to learn that plate armor didn't actually provide complete protection. It had gaps, and the vipermonkeys' claws had found a few of those gaps during the melee. Hence the cuts and scratches. Still, the surface of his armor was almost more sap than plate at this point, and his thistle looked miserable.

Without really thinking about it he set the thistle down, and it immediately took root and began repairing itself. It was a slow process, but it was better than it just breaking. His armor was partially rooted at his feet, only uprooting when he walked, and while he had the feeling that it could also plant itself more thoroughly and recover faster if he let it he still had to check on his rescuees. He didn't expect to need armor for that encounter of course, he just wasn't sure his clothing was even remotely intact beneath the armor.

Approaching a woman alone in the jungle that had just been fighting for her life while in the buff seemed like a bad idea. He started in the direction he had last seen the boy, but was interrupted.

Congratulations! You have slain twelve Voidlings ranging in level from three to five!

Congratulations! You have defeated a total of six creatures higher level than you with a single blow each! Your title, David, has been upgraded to Giant Slayer and you have been granted the feat Poison Resistance. Defeat four more creatures with a higher level than you to upgrade your title further!

Congratulations! You have earned enough energy to advance to level four! Would you like to advance now?

That was an emphatic no, since he had finally encountered people for the first time in days and would like to talk to them and make sure they were okay and hopefully reclaim the tiniest shred of normality for a while.

They weren't far, and he passed the bludgeoned remains of the last voidling on the way to join them. Unfortunately, the little taste of normality he had hoped for wasn't likely. "Are you okay?" He asked cautiously when he saw that the woman was crumpled on the ground next to the crying boy.

"Poison, please… keep my son safe." She coughed out flecks of blood, and he saw blackened veins crawling up her arms from a number of bites that had to be from the monkeys.

"Shit."