"No one can really say where the mists in the Gray Mist Forest come from."
"They don't form because of temperature changes, and they don't follow those damn—what do you call them? Oh, right!
Natural laws!"
"It's just... just like those strange fellows who suddenly show up in taverns. One moment they're not there, the next they are."
"You know all that?" He Xi asked, a little surprised. Those words sounded like they came from experience, and they seemed more fitting coming from Captain Hulk.
"Of course!" Belt immediately puffed out his chest. "Brother Galen, I didn't drink all that ale for nothing! Sure, I don't have as much field experience as the captain, but tavern knowledge is for everyone. It flows between adventurers like ale. That counts as an adventure too, doesn't it?"
The man always seemed to find some twisted argument to prove that his time spent in taverns hadn't been wasted.
Laila naturally couldn't listen to any more. "You've only got a few useless rumors, and every time you meet someone new, you find a chance to show off."
Belt seemed used to his wife raining on his parade. Unbothered, he continued sharing his "tavern adventure studies."
He Xi, however, wasn't paying close attention. His attention had been drawn to the gray mist enveloping their surroundings.
There was something indescribably strange about it.
It was as if every wisp of gray vapor carried a faint trace of magic—gentle, yet everywhere.
"Spellcasters tend to be more sensitive." Hulk noticed He Xi's confusion and explained in a low voice. "The Gray Mist Forest doesn't get foggy all that often. One of my former companions mentioned it too. She said the mist felt like some kind of vast magic, a magic... with no actual effect."
"But don't worry," he added.