The Pleasures of Life (1)

With the trade cooldown vote underway, I immediately set to work.

First came resetting the fish trap downstream, followed by routine maintenance on all my gear. Above all, I lavished meticulous attention on the Heavenly Demon's Sword. The presence or absence of that single blade held direct sway over my survival. Yet how often in an ordinary lifetime does anyone ever maintain a real sword? The closest I had ever come was running kitchen knives across a whetstone. That lack of experience was all the more reason to proceed with caution.

I let out a resigned breath. Looks like I would have to make the trek after all. Weary as I was, snagging a few crabs wasn't an impossible errand. The mana drained by the Earth Guardian had already replenished once I channeled my Mind Cultivation Method; whether the Four Seasons Forest was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unusually drenched in natural energy or my body had simply adapted, a few deep, rhythmic breaths had been enough to refill the reserves.

I haven't taken proper care of this blade even once, I thought. Better to cultivate the habit now than regret it later. If it were to snap or chip during a life-or-death crisis because I neglected it, I would only have myself to blame.

Having gathered my supplies, I surveyed the cave. Wonmo was dead to the world, having devoured an entire roasted fish before curling up for a midday snooze. Fast Tree Sloth lounged nearby, watching me with that placid, unbothered expression.

"I'm heading out for a bit. Keep an eye on Wonmo, alright?"

"......"

After entrusting the cub to Ppareumbo, I barricaded the entrance with the wooden palisade. That way, even if Wonmo stirred while I was away, he wouldn't wander outside.

Elixir, Inedia Pills, smoked rations, crossbow... all packed.

On my hands were the World Tree Silk Gloves gifted by Let's Grow Trees, and slung across my back was an empty rucksack for the crabs. Everything was in order. Still, having fought two grueling battles already today, I intended to avoid combat by any means necessary. The lingering bruises from the Earth Guardian's assault still ached faintly in my ribs. Of course, if a predator cornered me, blood would have to be spilled.

If things turn hairy, I'll distract them with the smoked meat.

It was saltier than the Dead Sea, but meat was still meat. Tossing it out as bait while sneaking away should buy me more than enough time to break line of sight. And if they spat it out in disgust... well, who could say? It still smelled a hell of a lot more tempting than an Inedia Pill.

I double-checked my buckles and sipped a tiny measure of Elixir. The dull throbbing in my abdomen receded into a mild, manageable numb. Time to move. This wasn't an expedition; grab the crabs and get home.

Still, navigating the wilderness was never simple.

Following the river downstream is straightforward enough, I mused. The problem was that you never knew what might breach the surface. An unfamiliar pack of giant otters had ambushed me mere hours ago, hadn't they? Wary of lurking alligators, I kept a wide berth from the water's edge.

I ran into that iguana around here last time, didn't I?

A monstrous iguana the size of an adult crocodile. Fortunately, it had been a coward, bolting the instant it laid eyes on me—though we crossed paths once more when it brazenly snatched the carcass of a giant mosquito I had felled before scampering off.

Retracing the familiar shoreline, I made my way toward the wide lake where the crabs nested.

Whoooosh—

As I drew nearer, the river widened dramatically, opening into a massive lower basin that rivaled broad continental waterways. Far more aquatic life thrived down here than in the violent, frothing rapids upstream.

KABLOOSH! Splash!

Right on cue, a creature that belonged strictly in oceanic waters broke the surface—a whale. I had spotted it once before, but the sight remained utterly surreal. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if sharks were prowling the shallows. In the Four Seasons Forest, absurdity was the only constant.

"Huh?"

Just as I was trudging downstream in bemused disbelief, something caught my eye.

A deer stood by the bank, lapping calmly at the water. It wasn't the glowing Spirit Deer from this morning, but a creature that looked remarkably ordinary. A rack of sweeping antlers crowned its head, marking it as a stag—and a formidable one at that.

Better make some noise on purpose.

Who was it that said herbivores in the wild were often deadlier than carnivores? Unlike predators whose hostility was obvious, people let their guard down around herbivores and ended up trampled or gored. Announcing my presence was far safer than startling it.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I stomped my boots heavily against the turf, yet the stag didn't so much as twitch. It merely cast a fleeting, disinterested glance in my direction before going right back to drinking.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if the beast was actively mocking me, when—

ROAAAAR!!

The river exploded.

A colossal maw erupted from the froth, lined with jagged teeth the size of adult fists. The beast's sheer bulk dwarfed the stag entirely. Before the shock of sensing zero murderous intent could even settle, its identity clicked in my mind.

Holy crap. There really ARE sharks in this river?!

An enormous, monstrous shark. It was massive enough to swallow the stag whole in a single gulp. But where were we? This was the Four Seasons Forest, where even a sluggish tree sloth possessed the lethality of a mythical chimera.

Swish—

As if it had foreseen the ambush from the very start, the stag broke off its drinking. Whirling fluidly on its forelegs, it unleashed a devastating double hind kick straight at the soaring, gaping maw.

CRACK!

Both hooves shattered dead center against the shark's snout.

A shark's snout is its most sensitive biological weak point. And it had just eaten a counter-kick from a Four Seasons Forest herbivore.

SPLAT!

Blasted out of the air by the pinpoint strike, the massive shark crashed limp onto the gravel shore. It lay entirely motionless, knocked out cold. The stag, utterly indifferent to the mountain of blubber beside it, lowered its muzzle and resumed drinking river water in deep, steady gulps.

"......"

A stag drinking peacefully beside a concussed river shark. What kind of demented ecosystem was this?

Treading lightly, I crept forward while keeping a wary eye on the beast. Fortunately, the stag couldn't have cared less about my existence, never sparing me another glance.

...I have to post this on the Gallery. Maybe the deer in this world are just built different.

Considering Spirit Deer existed, regular ones possessing supernatural kick power wasn't totally out of the question. Framing the shot carefully, I snapped a clear photo of the drinking stag and its unconscious trophy.

So the stag was an anomaly after all. My common sense hadn't failed me.

I closed the interface and glanced over my shoulder, checking to see where the deer had gone.

"*Snort.*"

"......"

Mother of God. When did this bastard get behind me?

I froze rock-solid. Without a rustle of grass, without the slightest whisper of presence, the stag stood directly behind me. While its shoulder height was roughly level with my chest, the colossal span of its antlers exerted a crushing psychological weight.

Am I... am I screwed?

I eased back step by cautious step, raising my arms into a wary guard. The stag simply stared down at me with glassy, dark eyes. Then, with a soft, dismissive snort, it turned its massive rack away. Stepping gracefully across the moss without leaving a sound, it melted into the thickets and vanished entirely into the woods.

"Haaaaah..."

A massive shudder of breath escaped my lungs. My heart had nearly seized in my chest. To feel that kind of suffocating dread from an ordinary deer... if it had charged, I probably would have lost. Never mind landing a strike on a weak point; kicking a leaping shark into unconsciousness was wild. Reacting to and cleanly dodging an underwater ambush in the first place was sheer superhuman instinct.

When will I ever be able to react like that?

As things stood, keeping up with Fast Tree Sloth's casual claw swipes pushed me to my absolute limits. I could barely deflect them with a shield, but true mastery was leagues away. Shaking my head at how profoundly alien the Four Seasons Forest grew the deeper I looked, I pressed on.

BOOOM! CRASH!

Just as the treeline thinned before the lakeshore, a thunderous uproar battered my ears. The sound originated squarely from the water's edge, echoing with the cataclysmic violence of an industrial demolition site.

What now?

I had never heard such a cacophony in this forest before. Breaking into a jog, I parted the reeds and looked out over the shore—and stopped dead.

CRUUUNCH! KABOOM! CRASH!

Have you ever watched a kaiju film? The kind where colossal, radioactive abominations trade blows and pulverize mountain ranges into dust? I was watching that very spectacle unfold in broad daylight, live and in person.

...What the hell is that? A crayfish?

I had seen the lake's resident crabs—monstrosities whose shells matched apartment complexes in height. But a crayfish the size of an apartment building was a brand-new nightmare. The two titanic crustaceans were locked in vicious melee, massive pincers hammering against shell with earth-shattering force. Seeing a clash of titans outside of cinema was completely surreal.

CLAAANG!

While I watched slack-jawed, the giant crayfish brought its club-like claw down across the giant crab's carapace. The impact sheared off a massive chunk of armor plate, launching it through the air—straight toward me.

My eyes bulged as the hurtling slab expanded in my vision, and I threw up my shield with both arms.

KABLAMMM!!!

"Gaaah?!"

A deafening, bell-like ring shattered the air, and kinetic shock blasted my boots clear off the turf. The sheer force hurled me backward through the air. Only my braced shield and the breakfall technique taught by Sword Master dispersed the worst of the concussive trauma, saving my spine from shattering against the gravel.

Groaning through clenched teeth, I staggered unsteadily back to my feet.

"Are you kidding me..."

The chunk of severed carapace embedded in the ground looked no different from a slab of reinforced concrete. Did I really have to walk into their warzone just for a few crabs? Surely Passing Dwarf would grant an exception if he saw this insanity. Yet having dragged myself all the way here through sheer grit, turning back empty-handed felt unbearable.

Fine. But I'm going to squeeze that dwarf for every scrap of gear he's worth.

I whipped out the interface, capturing several high-res photos and a video clip. These were headed straight to the Gallery; I couldn't wait to see the smug blacksmith choke on his beard.

Grab the crabs and run.

Even as the colossal titans battered each other senseless, the smaller, dog-sized crabs scurried about their business along the muddy banks. They were scavenging, voraciously picking apart the shredded carapace fragments shed during the brawl. Here and there, less fortunate crabs lay smashed flat beneath fallen debris.

CRASH!

"Yipe!"

Right as I lunged forward to seize a crab, another slab of shell cratered the earth inches from my shoulder. Grabbing a squirming crab in each fist, I pivoted on my heel and bolted for the treeline. Every instinct screamed to gather a third, but sheer survival overtook greed. At any second, a house-sized pincer fragment could crush me into red paste. Damn this miserable forest!

"Hah... hah...!"

Only after putting hundreds of yards between myself and the battlefield did I dare slow my stride. The two crabs trapped in my grip flailed furiously, snapping their claws in frantic bids for freedom. Shoving them deep into my rucksack, I cinched the straps tight and leaned against a trunk to steady my racing pulse.

Now to get home.

BOOM! CRUNCH!

Explosions continued to rock the distant canopy, but I forced myself to ignore them. In truth, ignoring them was impossible; collateral debris could easily arc over the forest. Every time a blast echoed through the valley, I checked my six, hurrying back along the trail.

Surviving two deadly encounters earlier in the day, followed by starring in a live-action monster movie, had drained every last ounce of my stamina.

"Urrgh..."

"......"

Collapsing face-first onto the bedding the second I crossed the cave threshold, I felt a heavy, clawed limb gently pat my back. Fast Tree Sloth hovered over me, offering silent comfort. You really are the only companion who looks out for my mental health, buddy. Thank you.

Tossing Ppareumbo an Inedia Pill as a reward, I pulled up the Gallery interface. It was time to show these armchair spectators what survival actually looked like.

The comment section, as expected, was a chorus of vicarious excitement. They praised the footage, babbling about what a rare privilege it was to witness such sights. But having barely crawled back alive from the jaws of extinction, I couldn't muster an ounce of enthusiasm to join their banter.

Every ounce of strength is gone.

I already hadn't wanted to lift a finger, and now I wanted to do even less than that. Today's excursions were officially over. Wild horses couldn't drag me out of this cave again.

...Wait. Didn't I have cigars?

The World Tree Leaf Tobacco gifted by Let's Grow Trees suddenly flashed through my mind. Exhaustion had hollowed out my chest to the point where I desperately craved something to taste. Feasting on emergency rations right now felt wasteful, making tobacco the ideal alternative.

I never imagined I'd smoke a day in my life...

Was this what smokers felt like after surviving a shift in the trenches? To think I had avoided tobacco even during my grueling mandatory military service, only to light up in an isekai death trap. Reaching into my stash, I lifted a single cigar from its protective wooden case and turned it in the dim cave light. In shape and heft, it resembled a classic Earth cigar, though the fine, emerald-veined wrapper was undeniably harvested from the leaves of the World Tree. High elves treated this as an exorbitant, sacred luxury; how profound could its restorative properties truly be? A prickle of genuine curiosity stirred in my chest.

Light it with the Ignition Stone.

Click! Szzzt!

Pressing the rune on the stone against the cigar's tip, a gentle spark ignited the cured herb, sending thin, fragrant coils of azure smoke curling toward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ceiling. The moment the aroma hit the air, my hesitation dissolved, and I drew a slow, measured breath through the rolled leaf.

Ordinary tobacco smoke was harsh and acrid, and a cigar was harsher still. Yet the smoke from the World Tree leaf carried not a shred of bitterness. Instead, a clean, crystalline chill washed through my palate, expanding across my chest. It resembled spearmint, yet far purer and gentler, leaving an intoxicating, mountain-fresh clarity behind. With every lingering exhalation, the heavy leaden ache in my bruised muscles melted away, replaced by an invigorating surge of pristine vitality.

...It's delicious.

It was genuinely, unbelievably exquisite.