Traveler's Respite

A colossal entity loomed in the mist. Gloomy and heavy, its overlapping, dark red birch roof sagged low. It stood about four stories tall, like a reclining giant, quietly contemplating, spanning across the swamp. A dilapidated wooden bridge led to a row of mottled wooden walls, with swaying lights hanging from sharp wooden stakes.

Bright light pierced through the interwoven mist, like the glow within the giant's chest, bursting forth and penetrating the wilderness. By the roadside, a bonfire flickered, its fiery red dancing and spinning in the distance, scattering sparks like fragments.

This scene truly awed Fang Heng, as if the blues and grays of the night had merged with the fresh red of blood, carrying a desolate atmosphere, yet also somewhat dim.

The "Traveler's Rest" inn had stood at the edge of the swamp and forest for thirty-three years. It had been passed down from the previous owner to his son, the current proprietor, seven years ago. The name "Hammer Mazak" not only signified his dominance over this wilderness but also his renown as a blacksmith.

"Legend has it that fire comes alive in his hands," Tian Lan whispered to him. "The Golden Flame Ring is his legendary work."

"As for what lies beneath those wooden bridges, beneath the dark, murky swamp water, it's said that piles of white bones, treasures, and legends are buried."

Fang Heng took a deep breath, looking at it all with novelty.

A rusted sword was planted diagonally at the entrance to the Egonen Forest, with a simple line of text carved into it:

'Mazak's Haven'

Every word upon it was the law of this place.

Several guards were gathered around the bonfire. A twilight-old man sat by the fire, the flames reflecting on his dark face. He poked the fire, slowly transferring the fire tongs from his left hand to his right. Etila stopped by the roadside and greeted them, "Good evening, Mr. Minis."

"Good evening, Etila," the old man replied. He took off his straw hat and placed it on his chest, his face full of wrinkles, his cloudy eyes dim but smiling slightly. "May Mirela bless you."

"May Ameya bless you," Etila replied, placing her hand on her chest in return.

Fang Heng looked up. Several pieces of tin were nailed to the wooden checkpoint, covered in rust spots, flickering indistinctly in the firelight. The thick fog swirled, and in the distance, firelight flickered. A bard played an organ by the fire.

The melodious tune...

A group of people walked on the dilapidated wooden bridge, the planks groaning under their weight. "Who is that?" Fang Heng asked in a low voice. Tian Lan shook her head at him.

"Just a lonely old guard. They say he's been stationed here for twenty years. His wife died, and his son died in the swamp. How pitiful."

People came and went on the bridge. To Fang Heng's surprise, almost everyone recognized the French girl and greeted them.

"Back already, Tian Lan?"

"Heard you guys took down 'Big Sister'?"

"Looks like our little princess is all in one piece. Worth a toast to that."

Several adventurers playing cards on the bridge chuckled and raised their water canteens in a toast. Among them were locals, ragged and unshaven, looking like beggars.

"Pah, get lost, perverts," Tian Lan said, wrinkling her nose at them. She turned back to Ed and said, "Don't let their appearance fool you, they're actually quite reliable adventurers. Anyone who can travel from Elpaxin to the Traveler's Swamp alone is at least Tier 1, not like those rookies."

Fang Heng nodded, knowing that in Aethelria, adventurers could obtain title blessings from their respective professional temples once they met certain conditions. For example, warriors were blessed by Oli and Marland, swordsmen by Aisha, scholars and alchemists by Angina, astrologers and elementalists by Irene, and so on.

Since the prerequisites for titles were generally closely related to character level, people simply categorized levels six to fifteen as Tier 2 titles, sixteen to thirty as Tier 3 titles, and thirty-one to fifty as Tier 4 titles. As for levels above fifty, further advancement was only possible after passing the trial of the Destiny Temple in the Second World.

Therefore, the First World effectively had no Tier 5 titles, because even top Chosen returning from the Second World had their levels suppressed below fifty.

Only Dragon Knights and Sky Knights were exceptions.

Tier 1 professions were natural blessings, what people called the novice stage. The apprenticeship period was the first two levels, requiring one to two months for Chosen to adapt, and then another one to two years to break free from the entire novice stage. Natives might take even longer, three to four years, so these people couldn't really be considered newcomers.

However, after the Long Summer War, Fang Heng found it difficult to have a positive view of these people's strength. In his opinion, one had to at least reach the level of Miss Scarpe and Mr. Quilod to barely establish themselves in the First World—Scarpe was level twenty-seven, Quilod level twenty-nine.

As for being powerful.

The Night Hawk Chosen of the Silverwood Spear flashed through his mind, but his thoughts finally settled on the silver-haired, elegant, and gentle Luo Tao girl.

Fang Heng shook his head, letting these thoughts dissipate from his mind. He himself hadn't even passed the apprenticeship professional assessment yet. Even though Combat Artificers were stronger outside of the Dragon Knight class, in terms of combat power, he was currently only barely on par with Tier 1 professionals.

Being able to take down "Big Sister" was purely the result of a combination of surprise attack and coincidence.

Meanwhile, Tian Lan was asking those people, "What's the deal with that 'Big Sister'?"

"Haha," people laughed. "Don't try to deny it. Someone rumored they saw her resurrect at the Shallow Water Temple, and she swore to make you pay."

They kindly reminded her, "Little princess, you need to be careful. That woman isn't that simple."

"I'm not afraid of her," Tian Lan replied, but her brow furrowed as she turned back. "The Shallow Water Temple isn't far from here. The fact that she chose to resurrect there instead of Elpaxin means she really wants revenge on us."

"We'll deal with whatever comes our way."

The one who said this was Luo Yu, who had always been taciturn. Fang Heng couldn't help but glance at him with some surprise.

The first thing adventurers did upon returning to camp was naturally to deal with the spoils of war—Fang Heng had longed for this, but truthfully, this was his first time personally participating. Etila led them across the square. The square in front of the inn was paved with wooden planks. Not far away, a bonfire blazed on a stone platform, and a bard played an organ by the fire, singing.

Fang Heng listened curiously for a moment and almost stumbled. The performer was singing about how the Jefflitte Redcoats had wronged the Dawnstar Adventuring Group. This was recent news, and bards always liked to spread fresh gossip, so it wasn't surprising.

However, when the performer sang about a "genius youth" and a "Clockwork Sprite," Fang Heng felt increasingly uneasy. The poem described him as the fated rival of the Descendants of Flor, a heaven-sent enemy, almost as if it were a prince's revenge story.

This isn't right, Fang Heng thought, deeply confused. How did these people notice me? My post wasn't about this at all.

Etila steadied him, asking with some confusion, "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Fang Heng replied, feeling a bit guilty.

He looked over again. Fortunately, there weren't many listeners by the bonfire, only a mistress and her servant. The maid wore a traditional maid outfit, a black and white long dress that reached below her knees, her hands clasped, standing quietly behind her mistress.

The mistress was just a young girl, not yet in her prime.

A beige trench coat, soaked in the night's darkness, draped over her shoulders like wings, rising and falling with the curves of her chest. The girl wore a lady's round hat, and a thin veil beneath it obscured her expression.

Only her long, soft golden hair, reaching her waist, shone with a gentle light as the moonlight pierced through the pervasive mist. She wore hollow white gloves, and beside her sat a large leather trunk. Even as she listened intently, her fingertips never strayed too far from the trunk's handle.

The style of these two was conspicuously out of place here. Fang Heng couldn't help but steal another glance. As if sensing his gaze, the young girl turned her head.

His gaze pierced his heart like a sword.

Not with sharpness, but with sorrow.

He had never seen such a melancholic expression, as if it saw through his very soul. Fang Heng only snapped back to reality when he entered the inn. "What just happened?" he asked, a little bewildered.

Upon entering the inn, there was a boiler. The magic furnace burned fiery red, its golden light extending far. Riveted metal pipes transmitted heat and etheric magic to every room in the 'Traveler's Respite'.

Beside it stood a half-broken utility automaton—a non-sentient construct, also shaped like a round boiler. It clumsily waved to every guest entering the inn.

It shook its rusted arm, emitting a creaking sound.

From a sound recording crystal, worn out by age, a hoarse voice emanated: "Welcome... to Traveler's Camp—"

"Hello, Mr. Shayek," Tian Lan greeted the automaton.

Fang Heng blinked, thinking it was the automaton's name. But then, an aged voice replaced the previous one, speaking through a sound pipe from within the automaton's body:

"Hello, Tian Lan, welcome back."

Fang Heng then understood that the automaton was merely a communication device.

The aged voice asked again, "The usual?"

"Of course! Please prepare a hearty dinner for us, and hot water—ah, I'm exhausted. I was gone for a whole week this time, I stink of sweat."

But Etila looked at the young girl and shook her head, "We don't have much money left, Fuli."

"Ah..." Tian Lan sighed, her voice changing pitch. She drooped dejectedly, "But, but as adventurers, we deserve a little indulgence, right?"

She gestured with her hand, indicating it was just a tiny amount, and looked at Etila pleadingly, "Just this little bit, Sister Etila."

Etila looked at her dotingly and shook her head, "Don't let it happen again."

"Yay!" The little girl jumped for joy.

Jita frowned, "Miss Fuli is wasting money again."

The tall trainee boy, carrying the unconscious Paparal crossbowman on his back, nodded in agreement from the side.

Watching these people, Fang Heng couldn't help but recall his time in the Dawnstar Adventuring Group and smiled slightly. "I wonder how Miss Scarpe and Mr. Quilod are doing..." he thought. After Scarpe's Glowstone was recovered, he could no longer log into the community, so he was unaware of the outside situation.

He then remembered that his immediate priority was to get a communication device, and he wondered if he could buy one in this small camp.

After passing through the main hall, a small room at the back served as the Kaolin Merchant Alliance's office here.

As mentioned before, since the Kaolin Merchant Alliance monopolized nearly ninety percent of trade in the Sea of Clouds region, dealing with materials in Traveler's Camp meant interacting with them—though one could also sell to adventurers in dire need.

However, the latter was uncommon.

Pushing the door open, a faint incense scent wafted towards him. The floor was covered with a thick hand-woven carpet. Not far away sat a flower pot with a succulent plant. A short figure sat on the counter, occasionally dropping breadcrumbs to the plant. The succulent's spherical stem expanded, splitting open like a gaping mouth to swallow all the food.

The short figure seemed to be enjoying itself until it noticed someone entering. It hurriedly brushed off the breadcrumbs and stood up.

It was a gnome.

It had a pointed nose and pointed ears. Although its height was similar to a Paparal, it was much thinner and smaller. They had lived alongside dwarves in the underground tunnels of Eldron for generations, but due to their innate shrewdness, they had become the merchant and banking class within dwarven society.

Fang Heng curiously shifted his gaze from the gnome. Gnomes were rarely seen in the Rodell region and the eastern part of the Kingdom of Kaolin, and their Chosen were also very rare, so this was his first time seeing this magical race.

Only then did he survey the room. As expected, it was filled with all sorts of miscellaneous items. On the left was a tiered shelf filled with bottles and jars. Transparent glass containers of various sizes held colorful culture mediums, containing the organs of bizarre creatures.

Jita also curiously examined these containers. Not far from him was an eyeball wrapped in a silver membrane, contained in a palm-sized glass bottle filled with green liquid.

Suddenly, the silver membrane on the eyeball twitched.

Startled, his hair stood on end. With a scream, he turned and ran, crashing into Fang Heng's arms. Fang Heng, completely taken by surprise, grunted and bent over.

Jita then realized he had caused trouble and quickly apologized, blushing and stammering, "I, I'm sorry."

"It's alright..." Fang Heng, still bent over, reached out and turned the bottle around. "Don't be afraid, this is just an eyeball from the Silver Blaze Forest. That movement was just its subconscious reaction to the etheric magic on you."

Seeing this, Fang Heng suddenly had an idea.

Hain-Fam's concept in the design blueprints for Type I Crystals was that to further improve the magic performance of Type I Crystals, the first step was to change the sensitivity of attribute-less crystals to etheric magic.

And the eyeball from the Silver Blaze Forest could react to even the slightest change in magic, wasn't that exactly what he needed?

However, this thing... seemed a bit expensive.

Thanks to Bian Shen for carrying me yesterday. After playing Dota 2 for so many years, I finally found a real powerhouse to follow. Happy!