The Lower Forest Spirit

The lower forest spirit, Nymph, fluttered her butterfly wings. Her expression was grave.

"Something's wrong."

Due to an unfamiliar landscape overlaying the Predator's Swamp.

"It still looks like a forest, though..."

Nymph furrowed her brow and strained with all her might. Even as a lower spirit, she was a proper forest spirit. No matter how alien it seemed, that forest had to be one from the Arcana Continent. If she communed with it, she could figure out what was going on.

"...Huh?"

But no matter how hard she listened, no sound came. Communion was impossible, let alone conversation. Bewilderment crossed Nymph's face.

"I have no idea what's going on."

Flap—

Her wings drooped. A sigh escaped her involuntarily. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠How had things come to this?

Right, it was all because of the demons.

'By now, the forest I was born in...'

Nymph had no doubt. Forests were tougher than anything. Even if animals snapped branches or humans felled trees, forests never groaned. They'd endured far worse natural disasters in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠silence. That's what the forests of the Arcana Continent had always done.

But.

"Sorry, everyone."

The forest burning under demon flames had screamed. Horrible screams, like being consumed in the fires of hell.

Nymph had fled to the Predator's Swamp to escape the demons. If she'd stayed, she'd have corrupted into something no different from them. She knew it was unavoidable, but that didn't lighten her heart.

"The Predator's Swamp should be safe from demons, at least."

Forest, wind, water, fire... Nature existed everywhere on the Arcana Continent. Spirits dwelling within knew the continent's news well—including how demons were expanding their territory.

Demons were cunning. They only invaded places they could conquer. In that sense, the predator territory—the Predator's Swamp—was no easy mark even for demons.

"...But I just can't get used to it, no matter how much I try."

And rightly so! Nymph's lips puffed out in a pout. Battles never ceased here, day or night.

If she'd known it was like this... She should've flown farther.

"Flying to the Zero Mountains might be impossible, but..."

She could've found somewhere better than here. Somewhere even a little quieter.

But now, she lacked the confidence to fly to another region.

"I don't know what's happening outside, after all."

Demons must have expanded further by now, growing even stronger. Places once safe were likely under their grasp.

"And now the swamp feels off too."

That alone gave her a headache. A forest mixed with the swamp—an unidentified landscape. What had happened now?

Nymph shook her head lightly.

"I don't know. I'm going to rest now."

She'd nap under the mistletoe. Her mana, depleted from straining to commune with the forest, could be replenished by its energy.

But.

"...?"

Nymph's short nap didn't last long. Clack— Footsteps from an intruder she shouldn't hear echoed.

Waking groggily, Nymph thought, 'I've never heard footsteps like that in the swamp...'

Wait, more importantly, how were they so loud?

'I'm at the top of the tree?!'

The question didn't linger. The source soon appeared.

A man with silver hair. The sound came from him ascending stairs floating in midair.

She had no idea what was going on. But it had been ages since she'd seen a human.

'Jeez, I got scared for nothing.'

Normal humans couldn't see spirits. Or hear their voices.

Well, back when she was a nameless, rankless spirit. She'd spoken to humans visiting her forest, unaware of that fact. But never once had she gotten a reply.

'I'll sleep more. I'm tired...'

That was spirit common sense. The man couldn't see her. He had to be blind to her.

Yet somehow...

She felt his gaze. Peeking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠open her eyes, it wasn't an illusion...!

The man was staring right at her. With an incredibly cold gaze, no less.

Nymph blurted in disbelief, "Wait, can you see me...?"

*

Spirit studies. One of the Mage Tower's schools of magic. Its senior mage was Payan Lot.

I remembered her well.

'Not that I knew her intimately, but she had quite the appetite.'

After the Banggrit Tom incident. During that breakfast with all twenty senior mages. Amid those picking at their food, she'd been silently focused on eating—Payan Lot.

Naturally, the spirit studies faction had presented at the regular conference too. So I knew the basics of spirit studies, surface-level as they were.

Which is why.

'...Why can I see this?'

I flinched at the sight of the spirit. Spirits were rare 'existences' visible only to a tiny fraction of mages.

I racked my brain. Had I read so many magic tomes that my knowledge glitched? No, even Lee Hoyeol's head wouldn't mix that up. Grandfell's intellect was flawless.

Simple, then. Grandfell could see spirits...!

Accepting that made my mind reel. I'd recalled the conditions for sighting spirits.

From the spirit studies primer. First page. Second paragraph.

Utterly pure mind. Relatively young age.

Bluntly put: You needed to be brainless—innocent—to see nature's spirits.

Another reminder of Grandfell's dark history from my school days.

Yes, whether demon king or great evil. He deemed them all lowly demons. Grandfell's mental state was a flower field, no doubt.

Anyway.

'So I'm not hallucinating.'

The spirit fidgeting under the mistletoe. My shallow knowledge wasn't enough to pinpoint her just by staring.

But.

"Wait, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can you see me...?"

Grandfell wouldn't quietly accept casual speech. Moreover.

'How'd she find this rare herb—a mistletoe, no less.'

I, Lee Hoyeol, had no intention of yielding it to a spirit.

So I replied coldly. "I am Lee Hoyeol, chief joint researcher of the Mage Tower."

"...The Mage Tower?"

"Declare your affiliation and status. Nameless spirit."

Still half-asleep, it seemed. The spirit looked confused.

But that wouldn't excuse silence. Recalling more from the primer. Second chapter. First paragraph. First sentence.

-Spirits have ranks. Lower, mid, upper. And spirit kings. A strict hierarchy among them.

I knew that. So I had words for her.

"I shall ask once more."

Like spirits, the Mage Tower had ranks too.

'Payan Lot.'

Why did she hold a senior position? Because her contracted spirit was an upper spirit: upper fire spirit, Fire Drake.

So I stated the unvarnished truth. "I am the contractor of the upper fire spirit, Fire Drake."

"...!"

Indeed, rank societies had their perks. Her eyes widened the moment I named a higher-up.

Of course, in Korean, you hear it to the end.

"Senior mage, Payan Lot."

"Lady Payan Lot...!"

"Chief joint researcher, one rank above her."

"...Y-Yes?!"

"Declare your affiliation and status. Lesser spirit."

Me and Nymph. Strictly speaking, we were strangers. But rank societies understood each other.

'That's why movies name-drop the chief of police.'

I marveled at my social savvy—right as her reply came.

"I am the lower forest spirit, Nymph."

Impressive effect. Bowing politely with greetings too.

But Nymph's expression seemed off. She continued, head bowed.

"To Lee Hoyeol, chief joint researcher of the Mage Tower, one rank above Lady Payan Lot, contractor of the upper fire spirit, Fire Drake—may I make one bold request?"

...Wait, her title's longer than the point. A rank society's downside.

But I was satisfied—no need to show embarrassment. I replied shamelessly. "Speak."

Why was a forest spirit in the Predator's Swamp? Our talk cleared that up. I could've guessed without asking. Given the Arcana Continent's state, demons caused most incidents.

"And amid all that."

"?"

"The swamp's landscape suddenly changed like this. I tried communing with the overlapping forest, but... Is it my incompetence? It was futile. I, Nymph, heard no voice."

A rift story. She blamed herself, but it was unavoidable. Asking a Arcana Continent forest about continental affairs was like quizzing a Scandinavian woodland.

"I was so disheartened... I was resting."

Even mid-talk, the mistletoe emanated faint mana. Ideal rest spot for spirits, evidently.

"Perchance. Does the chief joint researcher of the Mage Tower, one rank above Lady Payan Lot, contractor of the upper fire spirit, Fire Drake—know aught of this forest? This situation?"

I did. But.

'First, shorten that damn title?'

No voicing inner thoughts. I replied brazenly.

Explaining rifts was simple. She'd know the basics.

"Vanished villages, forests, even the Mage Tower—all like this...?"

"Indeed."

"Th-Then, me too—with the chief joint researcher, in the same world?!"

"Unlikely."

That happened when regions merged or rifts cleared. The Predator's Swamp—monsters fierce as they were—would fall to gathered players' might.

But wait...

A possibility struck. Clearing the Predator's Swamp...

The [Strange] space rift vanishes. The swamp returns to the Arcana Continent.

I glanced at the relieved Nymph.

"Phew. That's a relief."

A thought that'd shatter that relief.

'Arcana Continent intel.'

My Arcana Continent knowledge was limited. The devastation at Quirnburk Mechanical Tower. Rifts intervening there. Just that.

I was better off than most players, reliant on patch notes.

But.

'If conversable beings exist on the Arcana Continent...'

I could get specifics. Intel to plan, prepare fully.

But reality intruded. Even conversable, odds of reunion?

Arcana Continent. Which spot gets riften next for a promise?

Lower odds than lottery.

'But if it's a spirit...'

Beatable odds. Via contract.

I recalled spirit studies' top goal: Overcoming Severed Ties.

Reality and Arcana Continent. Utterly severed worlds. Even contracted, couldn't summon continental spirits here.

But I knew. I'd seen possibility.

Boasted at conference too.

In [Strange] rifts. Spirits summonable, maybe.

Grandfell's mind confirmed: 'High possibility.'

Contract Nymph: Summon her in rifts. Get Arcana Continent intel.

So I declared boldly. "Lower forest spirit, Nymph."

"Y-Yes, listening."

"I wish to contract with thee."

Sudden realization: My face was steel-plated.

Here, Nymph was A-party, me B. Spirits invisible to most. No spirit shaman class among thousands proved it. Spirit powers were {nature}'s domain, beyond [skills] or magic.

'At my level...'

Rejection expected. Spirits had no shortage of options.

Yet.

"R-Really? To me, how could you say such...?"

Nymph's reaction defied expectation. Tearfully moved.

Her words explained.

"The chief joint researcher of the Mage Tower, one rank above Lady Payan Lot, contractor of upper fire spirit Fire Drake...! Why contract a lowly lower spirit like me...? Of course, for I, Nymph, it's the greatest honor!!"

Spirit contract. She should rejoice. But why... I felt mortified...

.

.

.

Stairs floating midair. Even hunting charging monsters, players fixated on Hoyeol.

"What the hell's he doing up there?"

No clue. Trailing him impossible.

But the anxious wait ended soon.

"!!!"

Something appeared in view. A message to all in the Predator's Swamp rift.

Messages kept popping, but players' focus remained.

"L-Lee Hoyeol again!!"