Treehouse Area Does Not Keep Idlers

Treehouse Area Does Not Keep Idlers

Everywhere lay collapsed, burning trees and lawns blasted to pieces by spells. Thick smoke billowed in from all directions, and now and then they could see corpses charred by fire or frozen stiff by frost—clearly the work of fellow wizards. "Fear can also breed [Sin]."

Faint screams drifted to their ears, but everyone tacitly chose not to suggest checking them out. Leaning on his cane, Old Wells murmured in a complicated tone.

The sight before him seemed to have stirred up some unpleasant memories.

Ronan spotted a treehouse ahead that had been blasted apart and collapsed, and his eyes flickered slightly.

He wanted to go home.

The magic stones he had saved over the past two months, along with the finished Rune Stones he had yet to sell—nearly all his possessions—were hidden beneath an oak tree near his home, buried under layer upon layer of thick fallen leaves, dead branches, and stones.

He had to retrieve that wealth.

But the route their group was currently following toward the town was quite far from where Ronan lived.

Getting there would require a major detour.

If Ronan had been alone, it would not have mattered; he was fast enough.

The problem was the three old, weak, injured, and disabled people beside him. He could not exactly abandon them and go by himself.

Just as Ronan was considering it, two figures suddenly shot out of the woods ahead.

The group instantly became alert, and Ronan was already prepared to cast an Energy Missile at any moment.

The two men on the other side were also startled by them and nervously retreated several steps.

But a few seconds later, the leader of the pair—a middle-aged wizard with graying brown hair and a short beard—suddenly blurted out in surprise and delight, "Wells! It's you!"

Ronan froze, then turned to look at Old Wells beside him.

"You know him?"

Old Wells nodded. "An Old Friend."

Then he hobbled over on his cane and quickly began talking with the middle-aged wizard.

Standing more than ten meters away, Ronan narrowed his eyes and watched every movement the two men made.

Even if they were Old Wells's friends, in this chaotic environment, where no one could tell man from monster, it would be perfectly normal for a friend of many years to suddenly turn around and stab you in the back.

His senses were sharp, and he vaguely caught that Old Wells and the middle-aged wizard seemed to be discussing him.

The middle-aged wizard kept glancing in Ronan's direction.

More than ten seconds later, Old Wells hurried back and said to Ronan, "Barry Fania wants to join us with his son and head to town together.

"If you don't want them, I'll refuse him right away."

Ronan's eyes flickered. Only then did he understand that the two wizards they had run into had taken notice of his strength as a Level Two Apprentice and wanted his protection for the road ahead.

Ronan saw that Old Wells wanted him to refuse, but after some thought, he agreed anyway.

"Fine. Let them come along."

Old Wells's expression immediately grew complicated. He quietly said thank you, nodded, and turned back to give them the answer.

Ronan stood where he was, his expression calm.

He had not accepted them merely because he did not want to put Old Wells in a difficult position.

He thought that if they encountered some truly critical situation later on, these two outsiders might prove useful at a crucial moment.

"When did I become so scheming and ruthless?"

Coming back to himself, Ronan suddenly realized how much he had changed.

Then he thought of all the darkness in human nature he had witnessed since the chaos began, and he let it go.

"Change forced out by circumstance."

Old Wells led the two wizards, one older and one younger, back. The wizard father and son showed Ronan ample respect.

Though Ronan looked young, he truly possessed the strength of a Level Two Apprentice. He also trained his body, and his build was strong.

On top of that, he had personally killed two black-robed wizards at the Level Two Apprentice level. His powerful physique, combined with the faint scent of blood around him, gave off an overbearing aura that was enough to make ordinary low-level apprentice wizards unable to lift their heads in front of him.

Barry's son was a perfect example.

The young man, also a Level Two Apprentice, stammered through his simple introduction to Ronan, making his father Barry look utterly embarrassed. Barry wore the expression of someone disappointed by his son's failure to meet expectations.

With two more people in the group, Ronan felt that his plan to return home and retrieve his belongings had suddenly become even more distant.

Still, with the group expanded to six people and two additional able-bodied fighters, they counted as a force not to be underestimated in the chaotic forest, invisibly deterring many ill-intentioned gazes.

Gradually, Ronan noticed that people were following behind the group.

At first, he thought they were some bold, foolish riffraff. Only later did he realize they were pitiful wizards fleeing alone, deliberately borrowing the group's strength because they feared being robbed and killed.

Ronan drove them away several times, but when those people realized he would not actually hurt them, they only grew bolder. More and more began trailing behind them.

Ronan counted them. There were more than ten!

He was nearly numb.

Just as he was wondering how to deal with the situation, Barry, the middle-aged wizard from the first pair they had taken in, stepped forward on his own initiative and volunteered to help Ronan deal with the "sticky plasters" following behind them.

Ronan was curious to see how he would solve it, so he let him do as he pleased.

A minute later, their party had directly expanded to twenty-two people!

"So your solution was to turn stalkers into traveling companions?"

The corner of Ronan's eye twitched slightly. Looking at the wizard Barry before him, he was left speechless.

Barry seemed a little guilty too, but he quickly said, "They won't be tagging along for free.

"I negotiated with them. Once we reach the town safely, every one of them has to pay you four Low-Level Magic Stones as protection money."

What a talent!

Ronan really wanted to give Barry a thumbs-up.

The Treehouse Area truly didn't breed idlers.

The last person to earn this assessment from him had been Jacob, the blond chubby kid with the Innate Eight Trigrams Sacred Body.

Since he couldn't shake them off, he might as well charge them to follow along. That way, he couldn't lose no matter what.

Thinking it over carefully, there really didn't seem to be a better way to handle it.

Ronan began leading the mighty group toward the town, completely giving up on the idea of going home first.

The valuables hidden beneath the tree wouldn't disappear anyway. He could come back for them later.

"It would be best if I could restore some of my depleted Spiritual Power..."

Along the way, Ronan pondered to himself.

After Energy Missile's proficiency had reached just short of Expert Level mastery, the Spiritual Power required for each casting had increased accordingly.

In perfect condition, Ronan's Level Five Apprentice Spiritual Power allowed him to cast Energy Missile eight times in total. After eight casts, he would have no choice but to meditate and replenish it.

He had gone through two battles and fired four Energy Missiles, consuming roughly half his Spiritual Power.

Moreover, after fighting the two black-robed men, Ronan discovered that each cast was drawing more and more Spiritual Power. The half he had left might not even be enough for the expected four casts.

"Energy Missile... might be about to level up..."

Ronan had a faint feeling about it. For a moment, his heart was filled with anticipation, but also worry and concern.