Spirit Tree (2)
I even got a business card from the old man who introduced himself as Harden. Now, no matter where he is, I can pinpoint his location through that card.
Anyway. Through him, I bought ten bottles of Lowest-Grade Mana Elixir. Just as he said, gulping one down steadied my ragged breathing, bringing it back to normal.
That said, to get mana grass, I'll have to venture deeper in.
I boarded the train right away and arrived at my destination after a couple of hours. The place called the Living Wetland. It's the only spot near Brockton where you can find mana grass.
The issue is the terrain here. True to its name, this whole area is alive. The landscape shifts constantly.
I'll need a guide.
The terrain changes every time, but I know the optimal route. The problem is that this is reality, not the game. Unlike back then, finding it myself won't be easy. Even the best route relies on a few key landmarks.
So, I decided to find a guide first.
And I need to recruit some companions too.
On top of that, this is a hunting ground for levels 15 to 20. Monsters alone wouldn't be a big deal, but the shifting terrain means you never know what might pop out. That's why partying up is standard here. I plan to do the same.
But I can't just take anyone.
Where people gather, trouble brews. Especially here—it's practically a lawless zone. With the terrain reshaping itself, anyone determined enough could make a body vanish without a trace. That's why all sorts of scum crawl around.
I'd pick my party members carefully.
This must be the place.
A building came into view. A wooden bridge over the water served as the path, leading to a rundown structure at the end. It was the inn at the entrance to the Living Wetland.
Creak.
"Hey! When's the booze coming?!"
"Shut it over there. Can't you see I'm in the middle of a deal?"
"Kahahahaha! Just trust me. You know how long I've been rolling in this game?"
Thick cigarette smoke. Shouts flying everywhere. These were people who'd gathered in the wetlands for their own reasons.
"Looking for something?"
As I scanned the room and stepped inside, a man who looked like the innkeeper approached.
"I'm after a guide."
"A guide, huh. Where you headed?"
"Mana grass from around the giant tree."
"...The giant tree?"
His face darkened at my words. No surprise there—the giant tree held a special meaning for folks around here.
"That ain't easy. Hasn't been spotted in decades."
"I know. Just hook me up with a guide."
Right then—
"Looking for the giant tree?"
"Oh, village chief! Yeah, yeah, this guy's after the giant tree."
"Damn fools lately, all hunting for that tree. They don't know a thing about the wetlands!"
An old man appeared out of nowhere. Sparse hair, hunched back. He bellowed in a gravelly voice.
"Listen up, all of you! Decades ago, greed nearly wiped out this whole village! If you're here for nonsense, turn back now!"
The rowdy room fell silent. The guy chugging booze and cursing. The one yelling for food. Everyone focused on the old man.
"The tree's gone! Gone, so stop coming! Ugh, hopeless lot."
"G-Go on home, elder!"
As the old man stormed out with hands clasped behind his back, the noise resumed.
"Kahahaha, that old coot's still at it? Who'd believe it's gone?"
"Leave him be. The tree attacked because of those traitors— that's fact. Heh, anyway, he's the only one who knows the spot, so don't rile him."
"Yeah, yeah. Might need his help someday. Come on, drinks!"
They gossiped about the village. I knew the story too—I'd done the related quest in the second expansion pack.
A few villagers betrayed the place, tried digging mana grass during an orc raid, and pissed off the tree.
That turned the giant tree everyone talked about into the Spirit Tree for some reason. Simple backstory for the monster.
"Still wanna go? The old man's cranky, but he's not wrong. No one's found it since then. Folks like you come hunting and vanish."
"I know all that. Let's proceed."
"Hmph. Don't blame me if it goes south. Hey! Jerard! Get over here! Got work!"
The innkeeper called out smoothly, and a young man hurried over. Tanned skin, goggles on his head, leather jacket.
"Jerard, this guy's after mana grass. Guide him."
"Oh, sure? But that's deep in..."
"Mana grass from the giant tree."
"...Pardon?"
Jerard jumped, eyes wide on me.
"You can take him, right?"
"Y-Yeah! I'll do it! Uncle, let me handle this!"
"Fine. No one else would anyway. Kid'll guide you."
"What's the pay?"
I asked Jerard, who'd accepted. He just mumbled to himself, head down. The innkeeper whispered,
"Won't need pay. Kid's family to those traitors. Swears his grandpa wasn't like that, vows to prove it. Fat chance, but..."
Never heard that in the quest. Must be why the devs had headaches—unscripted lore.
"When we heading out?"
Jerard snapped to, urging me instead. Made sense. He wanted to clear his grandpa's name.
"Anything besides guiding you can do?"
"Me? N-No, but I know every path! Born and raised here! And..."
No combat skills, then. Same for most guides, but local knowledge was gold.
Time to use Jerard.
"You know going solo's risky."
"R-Right. Shifts unknown, need rotations... Monsters too..."
"I'm not here lightly. I will find it. You want that too, right?"
"Yes!"
"So, find me a solid party member. Fire-attribute if possible."
Jerard's eyes lit up. He got it.
"Give me a day!"
He dashed off to boards and corners.
* * *
Next day. Spent the night at the wetland inn. Grabbed a fancy room back home, now this dump... Oh well. Worth it for decent help.
Headed to the meet spot with Jerard.
"Hello, sir!"
Jerard, goggles up, bowed deeply.
"Picked candidates as requested!"
He handed over a stack of papers. Resumes from the job board.
Assassin boasting stealth. Fire archer claiming long-range hits. Stamina-tank warrior, also fire-attuned. Eight in total.
But the catch...
Most veterans, even gold-rated requests.
Skills solid. But demands matched:
- Pay split 8:2. You get 2.
- Rare loot all mine.
- No rotations.
All selfish bullshit. Predictable trouble later.
One caught my eye.
Ignition Mage?
Ignition. A fire mage variant, not your standard nuke-caster. Builds damage slow, stacking burns. Often overlooked.
But I knew how to use them. Perfect for my worst-case scenario.
"Can I meet this one now?"
"Uh, yeah. Possible. Go ahead."
Jerard's reaction was off. Something bugging him?
Felt iffy, but meet first. Reject later if weird.
* * *
Two hours later. Jerard brought the mage. Name: April. Warm-sounding, but looks? Opposite.
Early twenties...
Black bob hair, pale skin. Sharp, cat-like eyes. Cool vibe. Black jacket over shoulders, white shirt, black leather pants.
Wouldn't have approached in real life.
Classic cold city girl.
Click.
April sat, legs crossed.
"You know the party setup?"
"......"
She stared silently. Eyes icy, thanks to the looks.
Jerard watched, biting nails, tense as a bomb.
"Got it."
Her voice was cold too.
"Goal: giant tree. Hunt monsters en route. Rotations in turns..."
"But."
She cut me off, propping chin, leaning in.
"First time for me. Fun? Heard the giant tree's a myth—no sightings in decades? Wow... Find it, jackpot, right? Yeah! I'll do anything! My thing's shraaa— whoosh! Fire goes ka-boom!......!"
Now I get why Jerard hesitated.
She talked. A lot. Why the face then?
Even now, April yapped on. New world excitement. I'll give my all. Fire shraaa— boom!......
Hmm. Seemed obedient enough. Hard to find sane talent here anyway.
Fine. No more delays.
We'll go together. For now......