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Chapter 211 : Legendary Prophecy
Chapter 211: Legendary Prophecy
Canopy Town had become much livelier in the past few days.
Gauss and his two companions searched for a while before finally renting enough rooms at a four-story treehouse inn.
After putting down their luggage and paying to wash up in the first-floor bathhouse, the three of them, feeling refreshed, walked out onto the streets.
The town had developed into a dazzling sight that could overwhelm newcomers.
Еn̆ üm̃ а̌.i ḋ
Besides the abundance of greenery and trees, one of the most eye-catching sights was its three-dimensional transportation system—layers of walkways and corridors forming a tangled, complex network of aerial routes.
Locals came and went swiftly as though walking on flat ground, but outsiders had to tread with constant caution.
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On the walkways, a single moment of carelessness could lead to losing one’s way.
“Looks like there are a lot of Druids here.”
Gauss turned his head toward Arya beside him.
Druids were easy to recognize, whether from their attire or the natural aura they carried that could not be hidden.
Ӗn̂ ūm а̇.іd
Many Druids had clearly blended into local life, dressed no differently than ordinary residents.
“Staying here must help with deepening their attunement to nature, right?” Arya guessed.
Indeed, the natural aura in Canopy Town was much stronger than in other towns—even Barry, famed as the Forest Capital, could not compare.
The latter, after all, was simply too large; except for the core district near the Mother Tree, the outer districts and citadel resembled any bustling city.
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But Canopy Town truly coexisted with the forest—it was a town that had grown directly out of nature.
Even its residents were mostly hunters, woodcutters, herbalists, fur traders, and carpenters.
Ẅ ẽ b̈ n о̊v é l E̊ ǹu ṁа
“Let’s head to a tavern to gather some information first.”
For strangers arriving in an unfamiliar place, taverns were the best places to gather intelligence.
After asking several passersby, the three of them found a lively tavern.
Three massive tree trunks formed the main supporting pillars of the building. Pushing aside the thick vine-woven curtain at the entrance, they stepped into the spacious tavern, filled with the roar of voices.
Overhead hung mushroom lamps glowing with a warm yellow light, bundles of dried herbs, smoked meats, and strange beast bones as decorations.
The walls were not made of stone or brick but encircled with the bark of ancient trees, with small patches of glowing moss in the cracks providing extra illumination.
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Rough-hewn logs and stumps served as natural tables and chairs, coated with a thick layer of glossy lacquer.
Most of the empty seats were occupied by adventurers. Their attire varied, their gear was diverse, and their faces bore the fatigue of long travel along with the curiosity and freshness of newcomers.
Conversations revolved around “Outpost Eleven,” “monster tides,” and “transport missions.”
Gauss and his group found a corner table and sat down, quietly observing the tavern’s atmosphere.
Before long, the fruit wine and food they ordered were delivered by the server.
“Please enjoy!”
Е̂n u mа
The fruit wine was a pale-red liquor brewed from local forest berries, its taste sweet and sour with a unique herbal fragrance and only a faint trace of alcohol.
The food came in a large wooden basin: a generous stew filled with chunks of unknown beast meat, plant tubers, mushrooms, and colorful leaves for garnish. The aroma was enticing, and the price was quite reasonable.
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As they quietly enjoyed their food and drink, Gauss kept his ears pricked like a wary hound, sifting useful fragments from the noisy tide of voices around them.
“Damn it! That cursed place has too many bugs! My leather armor was almost chewed through!” A scar-faced brawny man downed a mouthful of liquor, complaining to his companions.
“Be grateful they weren’t deadly. I heard a squad from Blackwater Town ran into a pack of berserk Raptor Wolves in a Wyvern Nest—they lost two men before escaping…” His companion lowered his voice, looking grim.
In these pioneering expeditions, everyone was like grasshoppers tied to the same rope. No one would gloat at another team’s misfortune—because the next ones to face danger could easily be themselves.
Е̄ n ŭ m̈ а́ . ї d̊
“Seems like we should avoid the Wyvern Nest area…”
At another table, a group of more seasoned adventurers discussed quietly.
“…Escort missions for supplies now pay thirty percent more, but they’re still short on people. We’ll need to hire a capable spellcaster or a ranger to scout ahead, otherwise, the job won’t be worth the risk.”
Meanwhile, a few veterans sat at the bar. A young adventurer eagerly asked one of the older, more experienced men about the situation at the outpost.
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“What’s Outpost Eleven like now?”
The old soldier accepted the drink and tobacco offered, speared a piece of meat from his plate with his dagger, and chewed slowly before answering. “The walls are up, but it’s far from peaceful.”
Е̊ ǹ ũ mà. і.d
“At night, you can always hear something calling from the forest. Not ordinary wolves or bears—something far creepier.”
“Patrols have to be twice as careful every time they head out.”
“…And it’s not just beasts and monsters. Some say they’ve seen things that shouldn’t exist out there. Like… wild men wrapped in thorn vines, wandering through the woods.”
Gauss and his companions were not among the first adventurers to arrive in Canopy Town. By now, some had already traveled to Outpost Eleven, completed commissions, and returned briefly to rest.
Such information was hardly secret; any adventurer who visited would know it. So tavern-goers did not bother to hide these details.
As a result, Gauss’s group easily gathered plenty of intel.
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“Doesn’t sound simple at all,” Arya muttered.
“Monster tides, Raptor Wolves, insect swarms… and strange wild men.”
Truth be told, Gauss’s party did not know much about the Emerald Forest.
They had never been to such a place where natural magical energy gathered so strongly.
“Trouble is inevitable. Otherwise, they wouldn’t gather adventurers from several towns, and even send Captain Bard’s Iron Guard Knights, a province-level military order, to provide support.” Gauss sipped the tart-sweet berry wine without surprise.
If things were truly calm, that would be even more concerning.
Е n̂u mӑ
Obvious dangers were far easier to handle than hidden threats lurking in the dark.
Serandur gave a slight nod, his gaze still scanning the room.
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Suddenly, his pupils narrowed sharply as he noticed a group at another table, all wearing matching insignia on their leather armor.
“What is it, Serandur?” Gauss, always watchful of his companions, noticed the change in expression and grew curious.
This half-serpent companion was not one to startle easily. On the contrary, he rarely showed strong emotion.
“Those people are wearing the insignia of the Green Scale Adventurer Group,” Serandur sent the message to Gauss and Arya through a Message spell.
Ѐn̄ûm а̀ .і ḋ
He knew just naming the group would be like speaking in riddles, so he explained further.
“The Green Scale Adventurer Group is a large organization active along the western coast. They’ve got a long history, strong power, and many branches.”
He paused briefly, as though weighing his words, before finally speaking bluntly.
“They originally rose to power by large-scale hunting, capturing, and selling the organs of my kind in the Scale Islands and surrounding seas. For the past two to three centuries, under pressure, they’ve ceased such activities publicly—but the conflict between us has never truly ended.”
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Serandur’s slit pupils were complicated as he stared at their turquoise insignia—a broken lizard’s tail.
“In the wilds or in lawless regions, clashes often happen when our members meet… If we run into them outside, and they trouble me, Captain, leave it to me to handle.”
W е̂ b̀n̈о̇v̆еl̂ Ѐ ń u̇m̄ а̌
Gauss and Arya instantly understood why Serandur’s reaction had been so sharp.
So—it was an old blood feud.
Yet Gauss did not see much hatred on Serandur’s face—more of a tangled, conflicted complexity.
“We’re teammates in the same squad. If they trouble you, I won’t stand by,” Gauss shook his head.
“Me neither,” Arya quickly added, nodding firmly.
Serandur fell silent for a moment.
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“…Though most of the time, things remain peaceful,” he added.
Part of his shock earlier had been recognition. But another part came from confusion over why they would be here at all.
Just then, one of the Green Scale adventurers—a tall, lean man with an eyepatch over his left eye—happened to glance toward their corner. His gaze swept over Gauss and Arya, lingering only a fraction longer on Serandur. His brow twitched ever so slightly before he turned back, expression unreadable, and continued drinking with his comrades.
“He recognized me,” Serandur muttered after taking a sip of his drink.
There was no helping it—he hadn’t disguised his features, and to Green Scale members, he was unmistakable.
“Doesn’t look like they want trouble right now. They must be here for some official business,” Gauss guessed.
W ёb̆ n̆õv̈еl̃. Е̃n̆ û_ḿ á
They feared no conflict, but they would not provoke one either.
Since the other side chose indifference, Gauss’s team also ignored them.
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Both groups continued gathering information quietly, deliberately avoiding each other’s gazes—as if by unspoken agreement.
As Gauss chewed on a chunk of meat, suddenly his hand froze on the fork. His expression shifted from puzzlement to intrigue.
“…Energy disturbance…”
“…The Great One has been disturbed…”
Wẽ b̈n о ve l̇ Ê ňu m̄ӓ
“…Don’t let the humans find it…”
“Expel the outsiders! Drive out all the humans… drive them out!”
Hm?
What the hell was that?
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At first, he thought it was just adventurers muttering nearby.
But the voices were halting and strange, like children just learning to speak, struggling to mimic adults. That was when he realized something was wrong.
Е̂ nu m̀ а̊ . i̇d
He turned toward the sound.
But saw no one.
And then the voices faded completely.
Gauss stared at the empty corner thoughtfully.
“Was that the Prototype of Hive Mind at work?”
Were those words spoken by the insects?
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But he had only ever heard them express the simplest instinctive urges before. Normally, he filtered out such useless noise. Yet just now—even if fragmented—the meaning had been clear.
Could ordinary insects truly produce such speech?
If not them, then what?
At least, with his eyes, he could see nothing unusual.
And once he noticed them, the voices vanished altogether—like the whole thing had been nothing more than an auditory hallucination.
Energy disturbance. The Great One disturbed. Don’t let humans find it. Expel the outsiders?
Е̄ ǹům̆ ӓ . і̄ ď
What had he found?
If it had not been an auditory hallucination, then perhaps that information carried some value.
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“What’s wrong with you?”
Arya noticed Gauss staring blankly at a bark wall, lost in thought, his fork frozen midair. She waved her hand deliberately in front of his eyes.
“You’re not drunk, are you? But this berry wine is basically juice!”
“It’s nothing. I just started thinking about something suddenly.” Gauss did not say much more.
Е́n̆umа.і d̃
For one, he could not be sure the voices had been real. For another, they were not using magic to communicate right now, so this was not the right place to discuss it.
“Let’s just finish eating.”
......
Gauss put the last piece of stew meat into his mouth, chewing slowly.
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He had gathered enough information for now.
Though much of it was rumors and fragments, pieced together it gave him a rough picture of the situation around Outpost Eleven.
Ĕñ ǔm a . і̆d
Setting down his knife and fork, he stood up.
Using the stretch of his body as an excuse, Gauss once again moved toward the corner where he had heard the voices earlier. After carefully observing the area and finding nothing unusual, he gave up the motion.
“We’re done here. This afternoon we’ll buy supplies and then go back to rest. Tomorrow morning we set out.”
The next day.
When Gauss and his companions arrived at the rendezvous point agreed upon with Bard and the others, Bard and the caravan had just arrived as well, preparing their equipment at the roadside.
“Yo, Captain Gauss, good morning. Did you rest well?”
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“Very well.” Gauss nodded. “Captain Bard, is everyone here already?”
He looked around and saw that the people who had come with Bard were already gathered.
“No. We’re still waiting for a few more. There are other adventurers who need to travel with us to Outpost Eleven.”
“Oh.” Gauss understood. No wonder Bard had not shown any sign of departing when he saw Gauss arrive.
Since not everyone was here yet, they had no choice but to wait.
Soon after, a few more adventurers arrived one after another.
W еb̂ n̆ȯv̂ е̇l̂ Eǹ u m a
Knowing they were late, they apologized upon joining.
Gauss waved it off generously.
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With that attitude, there was nothing more to say—just join the group straightforwardly.
He turned back to Bard, noticing that he still had no intention of moving out.
Ah.
This time he did not need to ask—he understood.
Е n ů m̈а̃ . і̂d̊
There were still more people yet to come.
“Phew…”
Gauss found a small roadside step and sat down, pulling out a book to read quietly.
Inside, though, he was a little impatient.
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He was not truly in a rush, but the waiting was irritating.
Though he had only been working as an adventurer for a little over a year, he had already taken on many commissions—and never once had he been late.
Е̄n ú mа
Most of the time, he even arrived early.
As did most adventurers.
After waiting quite a while, Gauss was nearly absorbed in his book, forgetting he was waiting at all, when a commotion came from afar—mixed with frivolous laughter and the crisp sound of horse hooves.
“Uncle Mo, see? I told you we’d make it in time. Of course they’d still be waiting for us.”
It was the noble youth they had seen at the gate yesterday, riding his magnificent, glossy-coated white steed of exotic bloodline.
He had changed into hunting attire more suited for the jungle. Though styled as hunting gear, the cut was refined, lined with faint patterns, and the material was no ordinary cowhide. Rather, it was some costly leather tanned from magical beasts.
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The young man’s face bore a lazy, entitled expression, as though making the entire caravan wait for him was the most natural thing in the world.
Following behind him was the white-robed middle-aged man called “Uncle Mo,” who had given Gauss such an oppressive feeling yesterday, along with several other silent but well-equipped adventurers.
Gauss quietly closed his book and shifted his gaze—not at the young noble, but at that dangerous middle-aged man.
“Apologies, everyone. We ran into some trouble on the road. Truly sorry for the long wait.”
“If any problems arise during the journey, leave them to us. No need for you to act.”
To Gauss’s surprise, Uncle Mo actually forced a smile and offered an apology to the caravan.
Е̃n̄ûm̈а
Gauss raised his brow.
From the man’s demeanor yesterday, he had not expected such courtesy.
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Yet here he was, lowering himself to apologize sincerely—and even offering “compensation,” by promising to take more responsibility in the journey ahead.
Whether or not that promise would truly be fulfilled, at least the attitude was there.
“It’s nothing. Then let’s tidy up and prepare to set out,” Bard said stiffly, forcing a smile in return.
It gave the other man a step down.
W̌ëb̊ ṅо̇vе̊ľ .Еñù m̆ а̇
Bard could clearly feel the man’s aura—a power far beyond the elite level.
Even had he not apologized, Bard would never dare show hostility to someone like that.
“Thank you for understanding.” Uncle Mo nodded to Bard, then looked toward Gauss. “Young man, shall we head out?”
“Let’s move.”
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Gauss swung onto his chocobo.
The noble youth seemed about to say something more, but Uncle Mo cut him off with a soft cough.
E n ů m̄ ӓ .i d̈
The youth glanced at him, then swallowed his words. Instead, he tugged on the reins lazily and said, “Then let’s hurry. I don’t want to stay in this backwater dump a moment longer.”
With that, he urged his steed to the front of the group.
Uncle Mo and the others quickly mounted as well, moving to the vanguard—both to guard him and to lead the way.
The small disturbance came to a temporary close.
Gauss took in the whole scene, then exchanged glances with Arya and Serandur. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same trace of helplessness.
At least they only had to travel with this group for a short while.
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“Let’s go.”
The caravan finally began to move, leaving behind Canopy Town’s verdant gate, heading deeper into the unknown and perilous Emerald Forest.
......
“Stop here, let’s have lunch first.”
Half a day later, the group had already entered the Emerald Forest and traveled a fair distance.
Uncle Mo had lived up to his word—though several monsters had attacked along the way, his squad quickly dispatched them, even clearing brush and branches at the front.
Е̂ n̂ u m ӑ.і d.
This made Gauss view them a little more favorably.
Still, when it came time for the midday break, the two groups ate separately.
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One sat in the middle of the caravan, while the other took the front.
“Young master, when you’re outside, you really must restrain that temper of yours.” The white-robed middle-aged man sighed, speaking earnestly. “Even if you have opinions, you don’t need to voice them and offend others, do you?”
“So what if I offend them?” Locke shook his head dismissively. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
“Besides, even if I do offend them, will I ever meet them again in this life? By the time I’ve advanced to higher ranks, they’ll still be struggling in this barren land.”
Е́ nu m ă . ї d
Locke’s lips curved in a faint smirk.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand—he simply didn’t care.
His birth guaranteed that his achievements would far surpass most people.
To him, these adventurers were just extras, not worth his concern.
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“Young master, you’re mistaken.” Mo Jarl shook his head gravely.
“You mean that black-robed man?” Locke noticed the direction of his uncle’s gaze and raised a brow.
Е̌ n̆ ûm а̂. іd
“Yes.”
“He’s just a Tier 3 Professional, nothing special.” Locke shook his head. Perhaps noticing that Gauss had drawn Mo Jarl’s attention, his tone carried a hint of rivalry. “I’m probably younger than him.”
His family’s guards included many Tier 3 Professionals. While that level might be out of reach for commoners, to him it was unremarkable.
Were it not for certain medicines his family forbade him to use, he might already have reached Tier 4 or Tier 5, instead of lingering here.
“He is no ordinary Tier 3 Professional… He’s strong.” Mo Jarl shook his head, his gaze lingering briefly on Locke’s spirited face.
Of course, that was “strong” relative to Tier 3.
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He knew full well—if his young master relied only on his own skills without secret life-saving measures, he might not withstand even a few exchanges against Gauss.
Levels usually reflected strength, but sometimes they were misleading.
There were those who could slay equals or even higher-level foes with ease.
Though he had not seen Gauss fight, Mo Jarl’s sharp instincts told him Gauss was likely one such monster.
“……” Hearing Mo Jarl’s solemn assessment, Locke wanted to argue. But recalling Gauss’s level, he suddenly lacked confidence.
So he muttered under his breath instead.
E n̆_ü mа̂
“So what? In a few years, when I’ve advanced to the Master rank, he’ll still be stuck at the elite level…”
“Being stronger than me for now doesn’t mean anything. My talent is something ordinary people can never catch up to.”
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“……” This time, it was Mo Jarl’s turn to fall silent.
For a moment, he truly didn’t know what to say.
Did this young master really believe his talent alone had carried him—rather than the resources of his family?
But then again, there was some truth in his words.
Е̌ nu m̌а . і̊ d̃
The gap between stages was immense.
For most, ascending from Elite to Master rank was as hard as reaching the heavens.
The young master’s so-called “talent” was destined to carry him smoothly into the Master rank. By then, that young man indeed would not be his match.
Ordinary talent paled in comparison to the accumulated wealth of a family built over centuries.
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Not everyone could be like that man—born from obscurity yet becoming the strongest Sword Saint in human history.
Mo Jarl shook his head.
Ẁ е̊ b n̆о v̄_е́ l Е̃ ñum a
When lunch ended, the caravan continued onward.
After some distance along the forest road, the view ahead widened, and the sounds of bustling activity grew louder.
These were no longer the cries of beasts and insects, but human noise—the clanging of metal, the sawing of wood, coarse shouts in rhythm, the thud of cargo being unloaded…
Rounding the last thick patch of brush, the sight opened up.
A vast clearing had been carved out from the forest.
At its center stood the walls of Outpost Eleven, towering impressively—but beyond the walls…
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For now, it was nothing more than a huge, chaotic, and busy construction site.
Inside and outside the walls, figures bustled everywhere.
Engineers and laborers shouted in unison, swinging tools, raising logs with brute force.
Blacksmiths hammered in open sheds, their forges blazing.
Adventurers from many towns gathered in groups—some returning to hand in tasks or report scouting results, others checking gear before setting out again.
Soldiers of the provincial Knight Order wore standardized leather or chain armor—some patrolling in disciplined order, others standing guard at posts.
W̌ӗbǹо̀.vеl̊ É n̊ǔḿä
Supplies piled into a small mountain—timber, stone, bundles of arrows, sacks of grain…
Construction Mages used them to level roads, raise houses, and build fortifications.
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The whole outpost was shrouded in a tense, busy atmosphere heavy with pressure.
Though the place was crowded, laughter and chatter were rare. Faces were taut with vigilance.
For though the land had been cleared and everything seemed organized, this was still the depths of the Emerald Forest—monsters could besiege and attack at any moment.
Indeed, close inspection of the walls showed bloodstains and damage scars.
Е̌ ňu m̈ а . ї d
Clearly, attacks had been frequent.
“Then, Captain Bard, we’ll part ways here.” Gauss said his farewell.
The two were not of superior and subordinate ranks, but from different systems altogether.
Now that he was at the outpost, Gauss naturally had to report to the local Adventurer’s Guild office.
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“All right. We’ll share a drink another time.” Bard waved with a smile.
He held Gauss in good regard.
W е̇ bnо̃ vẽ l̇ Ѐ ǹ ú.ḿǎ
“Then, Brother Gauss, we’ll be taking our leave as well.” Mo Jarl spoke.
“Sure, see you.” Gauss waved back.
What surprised him, though, was that the arrogant noble youth also gave him a nod.
Instinctively, Gauss thought it wasn’t directed at him. He glanced sideways—but there were no other strangers nearby.
Had the boy truly changed his attitude?
Scratching his head, Gauss watched them leave.
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Then, with Arya and Serandur at his side, he merged into the bustling crowd of Outpost Eleven.
Their first priority was to find the Adventurer’s Guild’s temporary office and register.
After all, the earlier they registered, the sooner they would start receiving stipends.
Even registering that afternoon meant half a day’s pay.
One gold coin per day was not a small sum.
Besides, they needed to learn about specific assignments, duties, and intelligence.
Е́ñ.u m̀ а
Inside the walls, the outpost was even more crowded.
Makeshift tents and half-built stone-wood houses pressed together, the roads muddy and congested.
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“So many people.” Arya carefully stepped aside as several laborers rushed past, carrying a massive log.
“It is the front line, after all.” Serandur observed.
Following charcoal-drawn signboards, the three reached a larger two-story stone-wood building near the center of the outpost.
Clearly, it was a priority construction of the mages and workers.
Е̂ñ ū m а̄. і̆ḋ
Almost everyone coming and going through its doors were adventurers.
Inside, the hall was more spacious than expected.
Several Guild clerks sat behind makeshift long tables, busy with documents, speaking with adventurers before them.
Large sheets of parchment pinned to the walls were crowded with tasks—scouting, clearing, garrison duty, gathering, escorting—rewards ranging from gold to Guild Merits.
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Guided by staff, the three entered a side room to register.
Pushing open the door—
Е̃ n̆u m a. і̀d
Inside sat a man with a monocle.
His frame was tall, muscles knotted like stone, yet he wore a neat formal suit—a striking contrast.
Gauss submitted their documents.
“You must be Gauss, Arya, and Serandur from Graystone Town?”
“Yes.” Gauss nodded.
For the record, Serandur was also counted as part of Graystone’s reinforcements.
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Since adventurers moved around constantly, strict affiliations didn’t exist. The label was just for paperwork.
“Then I’ll mark today as your first report.” The man coughed lightly. “I am Rich Phoenix, president of Canopy Town’s Adventurer’s Guild branch. You may call me President Rich.”
“During this period, I hold full authority for the command and coordination of adventurers here. If you encounter trouble, come to me.”
Rich Phoenix spoke warmly.
Unlike adventurers who came on their own, Gauss’s squad was specially invited as an “elite team,” receiving extra stipends.
They also had higher privileges, with direct access to him.
Е̂ n ū m а .і d̄
Though… their levels were a bit low. Most of the other elite squads were Tier 4 or Tier 5.
But he could sense this squad wasn’t weak. Especially the young man before him—only Tier 3, yet with a powerful presence.
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“Thank you, President Rich.”
Rich spread a map on the table.
Its colors were plain, but the details were rich. Magical ripples shimmered faintly across its surface. At its center was Outpost Eleven, with names spreading outward across the surrounding land.
“Because Outpost Eleven sits on a special magical nexus, its surroundings are especially complex. The magical field creates distinct dangerous regions.”
Eǹ u̇m̂ а .і́ d
His finger traced across several marked areas.
“First, to the southeast lies Fungoid Swamp, shrouded in corrosive miasma. It teems with massive glowing fungi and toxic-adapted creatures—like Venom Crocodiles and Thorned Water Pythons. Some adventurers have already perished there. Enter with caution.”
“To the southwest lies the Black Forest, home to ancient Dryads and their insectoid thralls. They are extremely hostile to intruders.”
“Here is Mist Path—a canyon drowned in magical fog. It not only blinds the eyes, but clouds the mind, luring one into illusions and slumber. Banshees and undead swarm inside. Just recently, a dozen knights vanished there. The Knight Order has sealed the place off—it’s theirs to handle.”
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Finally, his finger landed on the southern hills.
“This is the Wyvern Nest. Several wyverns roost on the cliffs, with even more pterosaurs and assorted monsters serving as the Green Dragon Queen’s guard. Wyverns are fierce and territorial, often striking anything that enters. I do not recommend going there.”
Е̌ ńûm̈ã
After finishing the overview, Rich retrieved a scroll and handed it to Gauss.
“Here’s a new commission. See if you’re willing to take it.”
“The mission rank is Entry-level Four-star. The task is to scout the Black Forest, locate the distribution of Thorn Wildmen, and record their positions and numbers. Be cautious—their movements are strange. They seem able to sense capture attempts, and they possess a peculiar power to bewitch minds. Several have already been enthralled and joined them.”
“Reward: 40 gold coins and 5 Guild Merits.”
A scouting mission?
Gauss mused inwardly.
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But among the four locations Rich had described, the one he most wanted to explore was the Black Forest.
The Wyvern Nest was far too dangerous.
But the forest, with its Dryads and insect thralls, made him recall those fragmented whispers he had heard yesterday in the tavern.
Perhaps his Prototype of Hive Mind talent would resonate there—maybe yielding more clues.
Since they were new to the area, choosing the most fitting region made sense.
His heart stirred.
W̆ e̊ ḃn̄.о̀ v еľ Е̃n̄um а
But he still turned to his companions.
“You decide.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Captain, I’ll follow you.”
With their answers, Gauss turned back to President Rich and said firmly, “We’ll take it.”
“Good. The mission deadline is seven days. Whether successful or not, you must return and report by sunset of the seventh day. If you encounter emergencies, return at once and report.” Rich handed over the commission scroll. “Be careful. Good luck.”
Task in hand, the three left the temporary Guild office.
W ѐ b̆n̂ о̇_v̂ е̂ l̈ Е.n̊ um̊ а̇
Later, as they prepared to camp in a quiet clearing, Gauss thought a moment, then told them about the fragmented voices he had heard in the tavern.
“So that’s why you want to search where the insects gather?” Arya rubbed her chin.
“Maybe it’s some incredible treasure!”
Her eyes gleamed brightly.
Baca cerita ini hanya di situs resmi Enuma.id!
It sounded exactly like the kind of coincidence found only in tales.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing around nervously, then exhaled in relief.
W ӗb nov́_е̃ ľ Е ñ ũm̀ а
“Arya, you’re using Message. No need to be so cautious,” Gauss reminded.
“Ah, right.” Arya chuckled sheepishly, still giddy at the thought of hidden treasure.
Campfire, cooking, night rest.
The next morning, amidst the clamor, the squad washed, packed, mounted their chocobos, and set out from the outpost.
The camp was noisy, yet every task was efficiently managed.
Following the map’s markings toward the Black Forest, Gauss’s party disappeared down the road.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
......
At the outpost’s center.
Within a central command tent, guarded by elite knights—
Locke lounged lazily in a plush chair, Mo Jarl standing at his side.
“This camp is so filthy. Why would Father send me here?” A day later, Locke had reverted to his nature. The chaotic camp left him lost and irritated.
Seventeen outposts were supposedly to be built.
Е̂ ǹum̄a
He saw nothing special about number “Eleven.”
“And I even have to hide my identity, pretend to be a mere adventurer, with only you allowed to accompany me.”
Baca cerita ini hanya di situs resmi Enuma.id!
“This is Archmage Zalan’s prophecy: Dreams, slumber, and a miracle soon to awaken. A future legend will be born here, and those beside him will share in glory.” Mo Jarl’s tone grew solemn. “But we must not disturb it. Locke, this is your chance—you must seize it.”
“Sigh… Fine, I know.” Locke shook his head, face full of exasperation.
If before coming he had cherished a spark of longing to achieve legend, this chaotic camp had doused it.
The stench of sweat, the din of voices, the muddy ground, the swarming crowd… everything grated on him.
Ё n̄ ũ m̄ ã
How could legend be born in such filth?
And that so-called archmage—wasn’t he just a fraud? Barely capable of casting real spells, dabbling only in unverifiable astrology.
“Today we must hurry to investigate Mist Path. Its magical fog clouds minds, conjures illusions, and drags men into sleep—exactly matching Archmage Zalan’s prophecy.” Mo Jarl, unaware of Locke’s thoughts, continued. “I had the area sealed before our arrival. No one should disturb us. But we must be swift—the seal cannot last long. Otherwise, we risk violating the prophecy and inviting disaster.”
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