Punk found a small inn and settled in, though this obviously hurt the inn's business. When the other guests saw a mage checking in, they all chose to leave, while the innkeeper kept a "forced smile" on his face as he received Punk—facing an unfamiliar professional with immense power and feeling the pressure of a higher-level soul, ordinary people were almost instinctively afraid.
Punk paid no attention to the feelings of these ordinary people and calmly entered his room.
Looking at the peeling walls and greasy bed, while his sharp hearing picked up the squeaking of rats, Punk could not help shrugging. Which transmigrator wasn't busy saving or destroying the world? Why did I have to live so frugally? Punk sighed. He was not spending lavishly because, aside from a chance to purchase Apprentice Level knowledge, this Mage Guild mission offered no monetary reward. Punk still remembered the old mage telling him, "Knowledge is priceless. Where else could you find an organization as generous as the Mage Guild, willing to share knowledge?"
In truth, Punk knew the old mage was right. Many mage organizations, such as the Shattered Talisman Society, not only required one to pass all kinds of rigorous examinations to join, but exchanging for knowledge there was no easier than "buying" it from the Mage Guild. Punk also understood why professionals all hoped to find a mentor. It was not only because they could receive guidance, but also because purchasing cultivation knowledge on their own was far too difficult and slow.
Punk felt that once his path of training was on track, he should consider finding a mentor as well. After all, even though he possessed Primordial Elf blood and had a very long lifespan, endlessly taking missions was not an option—on one hand, no matter how much time he had, he could not waste it like this; on the other, it was simply too dangerous.
But for now, Punk, who was caught in an "economic crisis," had no choice but to complete this Forest of Undead mission first...
In the end, Punk decided not to think about this messy nonsense for now. He decided to buy some food. After all, he would be setting out on the mission tomorrow, and he would inevitably spend several more days sleeping rough and eating whatever he could find. He had to enjoy a proper meal while he still could. Besides, he was actually rather looking forward to this world's local cuisine.
I'm a foodie deep down, too!
Punk sighed as he walked out of the inn.
Under the glow of lanterns of every color, Konola City's streets were brightly lit. Punk discovered that people in this world's cities actually had quite lively nightlife.
In a small square, a dashing bard told stories of a war that had broken out in some distant kingdom, surrounded by many young people and children listening attentively. Nearby, cooks grilled unknown cuts of meat on huge racks, rolling heat swirling through the air. Of course, noble carriages also raced past, utterly unconcerned as their wheels knocked many vendors' goods onto the ground.
Punk found a shop selling grilled meat. The burly owner generously handed him a skewer and told him to "have a taste." Punk did not stand on ceremony. After secretly casting Minor Detect Poison, he accepted the glistening skewer. The meat was coated in a layer of richly aromatic sauce, its surface golden and crisp, enough to make anyone's mouth water at first sight.
Punk took a large bite of grilled meat. The juicy flesh rolled across his tongue, and its tender texture left him very satisfied. In the end, Punk bought a whole kraft-paper package full of grilled meat. Even wrapped in thick paper, its fragrance still made the nearby canine creatures drool. Punk decided not to think about the mission today and simply enjoy the food first.
The grilled meat was gone after one evening, but who knew when Punk's mission would be completed? Though Punk knew some divination spells that could help him search for the Forest of Undead, he felt the help his Apprentice Level spells could provide was extremely limited. After all, the Forest of Undead was a target with magical power, and it might even have been deliberately shielded.
I hope I have some luck. Otherwise, I'd better prepare to wander all over the wasteland. Standing before the city gates, Punk sighed inwardly. The larger sun, Chikasa, had already risen above the horizon. He checked the only magical items he possessed once more—his robe and staff—then picked up a large pack of dried provisions he had just bought from the innkeeper and set off toward the wasteland.
Time always passed quickly while searching. Before he knew it, both the large and small suns had set, and three moons of different colors had appeared in the night sky. Faerun had three moons: the Ink-Blue Moon—Gaal, the Whirlwind Moon—Tor, and the Semi-Mechanical Moon—Dolush's Eye. By now, Punk was already far from Konola City. He stood beneath a twisted dead tree, frowning as he sensed the results of his... who knew how many detection spells. Moonlight cast his figure in an eerie, sinister glow.
Previously, Punk's divinations regarding "roads, directions, and the Forest of Undead" had always returned all sorts of confusing messages, such as "the direction has deviated," "something is moving," or "the fruit trees in the south bear no fruit." But this time, the divination gave him something different—"someone can be used in the direction of Tor's return."
Punk stroked his chin and thought for a moment. The return of the Whirlwind Moon—Tor—should mean its rising, since Faerun's moons and suns revolve around the Faerun plane. But what does 'someone can be used' mean? Does it mean that person is connected to the Forest of Undead? Or that they can help me? In the end, Punk decided to follow the divination's clue and search. After all, he had sensed no danger in the message. If he just wandered around on his own, who knew how long he would roam the Aegma Wasteland?
After casting Night Vision on himself, Punk raised his head to look at the moons. Because the weather was overcast, only the mysterious Dolush's Eye remained bright and conspicuous. Tor and Gaal were both hidden beneath thick clouds, with only faint glimmers appearing and disappearing in the night sky.
"Looks like it might rain..."
Punk adjusted the brim of his robe's hood, letting its shadow conceal most of his face, then headed north—toward the direction from which Tor rose.
In the dark, silent wasteland, dew-filled Greenleaf Season grass soaked his leather boots. After walking for two hours, Punk suddenly spotted a point of light in the distance. In the dim night, where even Night Vision left everything blurred and shadowy, that small light stood out sharply.
Punk replenished the energy of his Minor Mage Armor, then approached the light.
A young girl wearing glasses sat on the grass. A campfire burned quietly on the ground before her. She wore a spotless white robe, with a golden emblem engraved with a rising sun on its chest. A copy of Teachings of Dawn rested neatly on her lap. The girl seemed not to have noticed Punk's arrival. With a devout expression, she pressed her palms together and murmured prayers such as, "Thank you, eternal dawn," and "I pray for radiant salvation."
In the flickering firelight, the girl's lovely face looked holy and gentle, cute and kind, and also... utterly disgusting. At least, that was what Punk thought.
She was a devout priest—one of Lord of Dawn, Lousanda's followers.
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