Contemplating Companions

"What's this?"

Shaking the white hood on her head, Serie looked somewhat puzzled.

In her view, the hat on her head had a rather peculiar shape, with a thin layer of white cloth hanging down below, blocking her forward view—though not completely, as she could still vaguely make out the path.

"A little essential for the Swamp Rainforest Region. I didn't have any gauze, so I had to make do with this white cloth."

Expecting dwarves to weave gauze as thin as a cicada's wing was a bit too fanciful. Luckily, Rhode had asked them for a few bolts of fabric before leaving, and with a little trimming, he'd fashioned a simple mosquito-proof hood.

"It blocks too much of the view."

Serie took the hood off, but immediately put it back on.

Because the moment she removed it, a swarm of tiny flying insects began buzzing around her.

Seeing this, Rhode couldn't help but remark, "As expected, no matter where you are, swamps are a paradise for breeding mosquitoes."

He really hadn't expected that even after ending up in a Western fantasy world, he still couldn't escape the clutches of these little creatures.

Back when he camped outdoors, the number of mosquitoes wasn't that high, and since he always kept the fire going, it was tolerable.

But now, in this damp swamp, the mosquito population had multiplied tenfold.

"Annoying creatures."

Serie muttered, briefly considering a spell to kill them all, but ultimately abandoned the idea.

Because there were simply too many mosquitoes here to kill them all; doing so would just be a waste of her mana.

"Maybe I can come up with a mosquito-repelling spell later. By the way, are there any plants with that effect? Speaking of which, have you never seen mosquitoes in the Elf Forest?"

Serie shook her head. "The Elf Forest is blessed with the protection of ancient power. Such weak creatures can't even get close."

Rhode was a bit surprised; he hadn't expected that kind of perk.

"Then do you know of any plants with a similar effect? If we come across some later, we can pick a few."

To Rhode's question, Serie didn't answer. She just looked at him like he was an idiot.

She was an elf who had never left the Elf Forest in centuries, getting all her information from other elves, and had never even seen a mosquito in her life—how could she possibly know something like that?

Rhode caught on, scratched his head, and looked a little embarrassed.

He'd forgotten that the Little Ancestor in front of him was a homebody elf, so he quickly changed the subject.

"By the way, about the Dwarven Relic Amuro mentioned—have you really made up your mind?"

A few days ago, he'd heard about the relic from the dwarf Amuro. At the time, Serie had suddenly asked about its whereabouts, and only after Rhode kept pressing did she finally reveal the truth.

It turned out that relic was closely tied to their destination, the Land of Fallen Gods.

The reason that stone slab was red was because it had been soaked in the blood of a god.

When the god fell, its blood flowed across the ground, and the slab that absorbed the most blood became the relic, possessing unimaginably vast magical power.

It was with that power that the Demon Race had activated the Teleportation Magic Circle, wiping out the Dwarven Kingdom in a single night.

And so, Serie had added another destination: to find the lost Dwarven Kingdom and obtain the relic within.

"Mm, I think it's better to head to the ruins of the Dwarven Kingdom first."

"Is it dangerous there?"

To be honest, Rhode figured the Dwarven Ruins wouldn't be much better. Though there might not be a dragon guarding treasure, there were probably plenty of monsters.

And Serie's words confirmed his guess.

"Dangerous?" Serie let out a light laugh, reaching up to brush her hair but touching the hood instead, so she gave up. "Of course it's dangerous. That place has been occupied by the Demon Race for centuries."

Well, that was true. He just wondered if the Demon leader there was named Azog.

"What a headache!" Rhode shook his head helplessly. "I don't think it's realistic for just the two of us to storm their lair."

Serie understood that logic too. After a moment of thought, she said, "Maybe we can find some help."

Ever since she started adventuring with Rhode, she'd been considering this.

In this world, adventures were almost always done in teams. Even the elves followed this rule, trying to go out in small squads.

Only races like the Winged race, born with the ability to fly, dared to adventure alone, since most monsters couldn't fly, making attacks less likely.

Besides, both she and Rhode were mages. If they ran into a monster good at rushing in, they'd be in trouble—one slip-up and they could be done for.

"I think that guy Som isn't bad. After all, he managed to break through your Defense Magic."

"He's too green. Probably not even fifty years old yet. Too little combat experience to be a reliable vanguard."

Serie's words made Rhode sweat a little. If fifty was considered green, what did that make him, barely over twenty?

But then again, she had the right to say that.

He had to admit, even among all Western fantasy worlds, the elves here were among the top tier.

With lifespans nearly infinite, they could really show those elves with mere millennia what a true elf looked like.

"So our side quest now is finding companions?" Rhode joked.

Whether it was traveling just the two of them or forming a full party for an adventure, he didn't mind either way.

Maybe by then he'd find a dwarf and a priest as companions, and he could call himself a Hero party.

And the original kind at that, full prestige.

The first thing he'd do then would be to have the dwarves forge him a sword that time couldn't corrode, then weld it into a stone and carve the words, "Only he who draws this sword may become the Hero."

He wanted future generations to know that a Hero wasn't made by a sword.

It wasn't that the one chosen by the Sword of the Hero was the Hero, but that the sword chosen by the Hero would be the Sword of the Hero.

If future people could grasp that meaning, perhaps they'd set their own swords aside too, passing them down through the ages, until eventually it would be a place filled with Swords of the Hero, until a blue-haired boy placed his own sword there as well.

Rhode suddenly wanted to see that scene.

But could he see it?

Just then, Serie's voice cut through his thoughts. "You could say that. What were you spacing out about?"

"Nothing," Rhode snapped back to reality and quickly replied. "Speaking of which, what kind of companion do you think would be suitable?"

"At least someone who can block a demon's attack for three minutes."

"That strict?" Rhode widened his eyes in exaggeration. "Wouldn't that mean I'd have to find a Winged race warrior?"

In this world, the races with the strongest physiques were the Winged race and the Dwarves, and the former could both fly and use Divine arts, fitting Serie's requirements perfectly.

"The Winged race is too arrogant." Serie gave a light snort. "The way that Lia looked at you last time was like she was staring at a talking squirrel."