Ever since Li Wei had led that ferocious Gnoll Chapter in driving back the vicious Cavens Rat swarm yesterday, all of Zelandia had fallen into a strange mix of quiet and restlessness.
Yes, those two apparently contradictory words didn't actually conflict.
And the female Drow, who had suddenly found themselves with nothing to do, had—unusually—stayed off the streets instead of actively soliciting business.
In a way, sex workers were probably the people in this world who were quickest to get a handle on what was happening in their area.
They'd heard that the bald Gnoll Leader Hogg, who had come out of nowhere, had conjured a Great Fireball from thin air and blown the entrance to the abandoned West Mining Area mine sky-high. The Cavens Rats hidden beyond it had poured out like a tide, only to be met by a countercharge from those handsome Gnoll men. They'd hacked their way through the Cavens Rats like melons and cabbages, all the way into their nest, leaving a river of blood behind. In the end, they'd even wiped out the entire Cavens Rat family, young and old.
And according to the Gnoll deputy commander, their boss was actually planning to tame and raise those Cavens Rats? It was enough to make people's eyes pop.
In fact, over the thousands of years the Underdark had developed, plenty of people had considered the idea. But Cavens Rats were nothing like the meek, helpless Myconids. They were omnivores and could burrow, making them costly and difficult to manage.
The biggest problem was that these exceptionally timid creatures would flee a thousand miles and build a new nest as soon as they sensed a predator they couldn't handle. So what chance was there of keeping them penned up by one? Once captive, they'd lose their appetite, become malnourished, and develop dull coats. They might even stop mating altogether.
Countless pioneers had scratched their heads bald trying to figure it out.
So plenty of onlookers who knew the details were waiting to see the bald Gnoll make a fool of himself.
But instead of getting their entertainment that night, they got a piece of news that left them worried.
It was said that after clearing out the Cavens Rats in the West Mining Area, Old Tiger, the Duergar Guild Leader of the Golden Miner Brotherhood, had gone to see Hogg in person. But he hadn't even caught sight of the bald wolf. Huozi, Hogg's deputy, had stopped him, saying their boss had already entrusted him with managing all such trivial matters. As for where Hogg had gone—
According to Huozi's halting explanation,
He'd gone into seclusion to cultivate.
Everyone who heard this was baffled. They knew the words, so why couldn't they make sense of them when they were put together?
Then a man who'd once worked as a Ranger said it might be some rare profession called a Monk, one that required its practitioners to constantly train their bodies and wills through all sorts of extreme methods.
The former Ranger was met with a crowd of people looking at him as if he were an idiot.
After all, who the hell had ever seen a Monk conjure a Great Fireball? And in this Dark Magic Web region, where magic was in disarray, no less.
In any case, after a brief exchange with Huozi, Old Dwarf Tiger seemed to have gotten so angry that his beard was sticking straight up. He didn't even bother making threats. He simply left with his people, displeased, leaving the displaced miners staring at one another in confusion.
Thus, on that quiet night, everyone's minds were bound to be in turmoil.
They knew the time to pick a side had finally come. What a headache.
The cavern ceiling brightened, and the clang of buckets being struck once again reminded the people of Zelandia that it was time to haul ore.
It was still early, and the light was dim. A trace of last night's battle still lingered in the air—the smell of blood. Garvin George's mood dimmed with it, like that of a lost traveler who couldn't see the road ahead.
It was embarrassing to admit, but back in the day, Garvin had been a seventh-level Mage specializing in the School of Illusion, with a little training in the School of Evocation. He'd been nothing special, but his mentor had praised him as a genius—a genius with exceptional talent for Psionics.
Unfortunately, when it came to Psionics, his mentor had only learned a few scraps from some damaged Netheril scrolls. He had often lamented Garvin's wasted talent.
Perhaps his mentor's words had taken root in his heart. After looking into it himself, Garvin had realized that if he wanted to study Psionics systematically, he'd probably have to venture into the Underdark.
Garvin didn't dare provoke the Mind Flayers, the big shots of the Psionics world. The Formians and Abyssal Fish, who were just as skilled in Psionics, would only see him as food. So he had no choice but to set his sights on certain Duergar who had once been Psionic Slaves to the Mind Flayers, but had later broken their Psionic shackles, escaped their cities, and become their own masters.
These Duergar who had awakened their Psionics might not know the exact methods of training, but they were the group with the most direct experience of Psionics. Some had awakened all sorts of innate Psionic abilities, and their valuable experience was priceless to Garvin.
So, bewitched by the idea, he joined an adventuring party that specialized in traveling to the Underdark to trade in food and slaves. He was a seventh-level Illusion Mage, a third-level Evocation Mage, and a first-level Psionics user.
The outcome was obvious.
They happened to run into the Drow fighting the Psionic Slaves, and got captured.
Garvin was fairly lucky. He was at least a lousy Illusion Mage, and he looked decent, so the Drow ladies took him in. They even demanded that he keep casting pleasurable illusions for them the whole time. But under their relentless exploitation, day and night, he couldn't even last two months—
His spellcasting levels had also plummeted because of his constant mental fog.
When Garvin, who had become a wreck of a man, accidentally heard that those deranged Drow planned to feed him Energy Potions, he was so terrified that he fled through the sewers in the middle of the night, all the way to Zelandia in the Lower City.
He had ended up in this Dead Weave region.
And so Garvin, once a seventh-level Illusion Mage, third-level Evocation Mage, and first-level Psionics user, had fallen back to being a first-level Psionics user.
What the hell was first-level Psionics good for? Oh, he could use it to hypnotize little creatures like Goblins.
But what the hell good was that!!!
"Drow bitches! One day, I, Garvin, will kill you all!!!"
That day, with tears of blood streaming down his face, Garvin slammed down his staff, slung a pickaxe over his shoulder, and proudly became an obscure miner in Zelandia's Golden Miner Brotherhood.
He'd been at it for ten years.
Mage Garvin had gone from a promising young Mage to a middle-aged miner.
Perhaps this day was special in its own way, too.
Lost in memories, Garvin walked down the mottled stone path, looking dazed. He noticed that most people were hurrying toward Remlu's Fish Stall.
"Did Boss Remlu's fishery go bankrupt? Could she have more stock?" Garvin wondered, then hurried over, excitement stirring in him.
Ever since Remlu's Fish Stall had run out of stock, food prices throughout Zelandia had soared at least fourfold in a single day.
There was no helping it. Dried fish had dominated the local staple food market for three years, and then its supply had suddenly dried up without warning. That left the Duergar's ever-dwindling supply of Gray Bread nowhere near enough to meet demand.
Many people, including frail humans like Garvin who had little food stored away, had been hungry since yesterday.
As he drew closer, Garvin could already hear the crowd's commotion:
"Any of you know how to read Common Tongue? Could someone read the terms on this stele for me? I'll throw in half a loaf of Gray Bread!"
"'Didi Miner Employment Reward Policy'! Submit a résumé, and you get two pounds of fresh rat meat as soon as you're hired! Tymora above, is this for real?"
"And there's more! All you have to do is turn in the first two hundred pounds of iron ore each day, and you get another two pounds of fresh rat meat! Why do I feel like I'm the idiot—or maybe these Gnolls are?"
"That's not all!!! Complete ten batches a day—that's two thousand pounds of ore—and you get a big reward package! Ten pounds of rat meat! And if you manage to do that for twenty-four days in a row over the course of a month, you get a whole Cavens Rat pelt! Have they gone mad?"
"But two thousand pounds in one day seems impossible!"
"There's nothing saying we can't work together!"
"Oh, right!"
The people who had been questioning the reward policy watched a few early-rising Half-blood Goblins trade two hundred pounds of iron ore to the Gnolls for the promised two pounds of rat meat.
All of Zelandia erupted.
Not long after Garvin had finally finished queuing and handed in his résumé, Huozi, general manager of Hogg Mining, came straight over. He clapped the poor former Mage hard on the shoulder, his eyes shining as he asked,
"Psionics user?"
"I-I'm only first level," Garvin stammered, nearly knocked off his feet by the blow of a single claw. He was completely bewildered.
"Hahahaha! Come with me! We've got a tricky problem, and we're short someone with your talents!"
Thanks to [xiaotang246] for the 1,100-reward, and thanks to [zhengzerrrr] for the 500-reward. Please keep the Recommendation Tickets coming!
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