Creepy Paranormal Forest Investigation, This'll Go Well (Not)

So…

You lot are probably wondering what happened after I caused a mass cave in, right?

No?

Well, considering how I’m monologuing this section, it’s clear I survived right?

Fine…

I’ll give the short version and we can get on with the next misadventure.

After I blew up the crystal, everything came crashing down, literally.

I poured a few shots into the Detonite cluster and the thing blew up in an instant in a mix of crackling green and fiery orange blaze.

Crystals, rocks and ores fall from the sky and squash the goblin miners to depth.

The critters ran all over the place, desperate to escape the disaster.

However, their uncoordinated, selfish instincts of self-preservation only served to hinder them.

Even in the face of imminent death, they bicker and fight one another.

They bit, clawed, hit and shoved.

Goblins die one after another.

Some were crushed by falling crystals or ores, others fell down the ravine and some were trampled underfoot by brethren also wishing to escape.

All around me are the sounds of screaming and falling debris.

It seems the explosion was too effective as a large, turquoise, crystal pillar skewers the ground right next to me.

One look at the pillar in the ground sent me running.

Hopping off her perch, Alin follows behind and catches up to me. Together we scamper up the tunnel we came through in a frantic attempt to escape the mass cave-in.

Except the explosion I caused was more powerful than Alin and I envisioned.

Two steps into the tunnel and rocks are falling all around us, threatening to give us a lethal concussion before we can die from suffocation.

Left with no other options, I use my new spell, Glyph of Protection.

I hold my hand above us and shout out, “Glyph of Protection!”

A large glowing green symbol appears above our heads, I care little for its appearance other than its function.

Under the cover of this spell, we continue frantically running up the hill.

Rocks bounce off the glyphs as we desperately escape the underground disaster we caused.

Reminds me of the scene from this paranormal series where a girl was running through a collapsing mental dreamscape.

Pretty good song, but I enjoyed the meme of WWII soldiers storming Normandy more.

Now I get to live through the experience myself.

Instead of charging through a hail of bullets, I’m running from a cave-in.

Quite frantically, it’s fucking hell.

I’m so sorry for making fun of Americans for being obese.

But being sorry doesn’t solve anything.

As we continue to run, the cave keeps collapsing further and further.

Up and up we ran, our lungs, more specifically, my lungs ached. They scream for me to stop running, to slow my pace and catch my breath.

Then the stitches kick in, each step I take makes me wince in agony.

Luckily, the tunnel didn’t collapse immediately, so we had some leeway but not much.

Bit by bit, we grew ever closer, in the last stretch of ground

‘Phew!’

The moment we see the exit, we throw ourselves at the ground.

‘Cough!’ ‘Cough!’

We coughed out our lungs from the dust and lie on our backs, at least I did.

Alin was a lot less dramatic than I was. Her back was simply stooped over and her hands were on her thighs.

Her definition of weariness is just panting slightly

“I thought we were goners.”

“And I thought you said you only knew Appraisal and that Mote spell.”

“Just learned it. Didn’t think I’d use it at once.”

“Since when?”

“After killing those goblins.”

“What sort of spellcaster are you? The average wizard takes a month to learn a new spell.”

“I’m kind of like Serana. I have fewer spells but I can use them indefinitely as far as I’m aware.”

She de

Having successfully escaped the cave-in, we take a few minutes to catch our breaths.

After we get our breath back, we grab an unconscious Serena, drag the corpses of Kael and Eric behind us, and go back to our awaiting ride.

What to know how the work was split?

Alin, being the same gender as Serena, is responsible for giving the priestess a piggyback.

I was stuck dragging the corpses behind me.

Eric barely weighed anything, no surprises there.

Kael on the other hand… Let’s just say don’t ever be in charge of carrying the corpse of a fighter unless you’re a barbarian or fighter yourself.

We lugged the two corpses and an unconscious priestess to the cart.

The driver took one look at us and mumbled, “My condolences.” before whipping the donkey and getting the carriage started.

I had a feeling he was going to say, “How did the adventure go?” if he didn’t notice the bodies earlier.

The journey throughout was quiet. A stark contrast to when the adventure began.

When I set out

The last thing I envisioned was them turning into corpses before the day was over.

Upon our arrival at Tros, we reported the results of the extermination to the Guild. As well as the colony discovered and the crystal caverns buried beneath its destruction.

With the death of Kael and Eric, and Serena out of commission. Our party is considered disbanded.

Not like I was close with them in the slightest.

Though I definitely won’t be going on big adventures any time soon. Not that goblin slaying counts as a big adventure.

Actually, we did kill like several hundred goblins and uncovered a large crystal cavern/ravine, but that’s besides the point.

Whatever.

On the bright side, we did earn quite a bit. The compensation given to us was seventy-five silver, it was for us reportedly destroying the goblin colony. The guild promised to give us the rest of our dues after they dispatch another team to locate and investigate the collapsed caverns.

With the hectic request pretty much wrapped up. I had no further business left in the outpost.

I said my goodbyes to Alin, half-heartedly promising each other we’d see one another in the future.

Okay, that should be everything, but I feel like I’m forg-

Right! How can I forget the bodies!

Now what did we do with the corpses of our former companions?

Did we give them a makeshift burial? Send them to a church? Sell their organs and belongings to a graverobber?

Nah, we just handed it over to the guild.

From the freckled receptionist with either a speech impediment or serious social anxiety issues, I learn they actually offer basic funeral services for low

Surprising, when it shouldn’t be now that I think about it.

Adventurers throw their lives away all the time for the promise of wealth and fame.

Not much of a surprise if death tolls are high. I mean, this is a fantasy world for crying out loud.

Anyways, I’m back at the ranch, my back against a tree on the field.

‘Phew!’

I’m feeling beat.

Back in the goblin colony, after I buried the entire place. I saw the green screen pop up, it displayed the familiar message, asking me to sacrifice the souls of the goblins and captives.

It feels incredibly sobering realizing the

…

Okay maybe I’m being dramatic. I’m not getting any strong feelings of guilt that make me want to cry or puke.

I just feel peeved.

Look, I do feel bad for being forced to indirectly kill the captives, but it’s on the level where I feel like it’s more of an inconvenience than an egregious sin.

To describe how I feel, it’d be more like, ‘great everyone’s not going to let me live down these rumors for at least two weeks.’

…

It’s scary honestly.

But I’m a naturally scatterbrained and care-free person who goes at his own pace, so I just

Moving on from my melodramatic moment.

There’s something more important I have on my mind.

And that’s the new skill I acquired.

Naturally, to show respect for the victims, I deselected their souls and consumed only the goblin ones.

I think it said something about elite goblins or goblin warriors, but that doesn’t matter since they’re dead

I had acquired another new skill.

Except this skill was mighty unusual.

What do I mean by that?

Is it some weirdly named or worded skill with secretly busted mechanics.

No, it’s not.

Instead, it looks like this on the green screen.

[???

???]

Completely unknown.

Here lies a problem, if I don't know what this skill is. How can I use it?

“Activate whatever this skill is.”

The next moment, a book falls onto my lap.

Not just any book.

This was the exact book I encountered in the Eldritch void world with floating islands.

I pry at the pages, but the book wouldn’t budge an inch.

After several minutes, I give up and dismiss the book from my hands.

Perhaps there’s a secret prerequisite I have yet to meet. Maybe sacrifice a few more souls?

If it took me several hundred, goblin souls to just get this chuuni-esque grimoire. How many will it take to get it open?

Whatever, there’s no way I’ll be able to open it today.

With a thought, I dismiss the book, it vanishes into thin air like it was never there in the first place. It’d be pretty damning to have someone discover that on my person. Especially when I am on the run.

Leaving aside my skills, I check my levels.

From the number of goblins I killed, I levelled up to level 13.

A good ten jumps.

Ten level-ups usually lets someone get new skills, right?

Despite reaching such a high level, I didn’t get any new skills. Instead, my current ones levelled up.

Eldritch Mote rose to Level 5 and changed into Eldritch Bullet.

It now has the following description.

[Eldritch Bullet (Level 5)

Shoot forth five small concentrated orbs of Eldritch energy or a single powerful shot.

Damage and range are significantly increased. Incredibly effective against even armored enemies or creatures with thick hides.

Causes immense pain to target. Unless by Divine or Infernal will, injuries are near impossible to heal through normal means.

Warning, do not underestimate its size. This spell has an explosive diameter of at least half a foot. Be careful who you shoot this at.]

Asides from the massive buffs this spell gained, it seems incredibly descriptive for some reason.

Might be the effects of leveling up, or should I say completing a fragment of the spell.

Here’s what the useless appraisal skill now reads.

[Eyes of The All-Knowing (Incomplete 0.1% restoration in progress)

Provides guidance on certain matters.]

I level up ten times, and the damn thing only increased by 0.1%.

Still, that’s better than nothing.

I test it out on a nearby tree.

[A sturdy oak tree, nothing special. Can be logged to make some decent timber.]

Hunh? It’s more informative compared to when I first used it .

If leveling up ten times gets me 0.1% completion, then that means I have to level up…

At least 990 more times!?!

Can a person even level up this much!? This is in the realm of Gods at this point!

Ugh… how useless.

Maybe I’m using it wrong, but in its current state, it’s a proto-Appraisal skill with a developing personality.

That’s two out of the three checked. Time for the last one.

Let’s see…

Ah, there we go.

[Rune of Protection (Level 5)

Create a Rune that protects against both magical and physical elements.

Will face one direction. Can be summoned at an angle.

Multiple Runes can be created to protect the caster and nearby allies overlaid or at different angles.

Durability and spell size has been greatly increased.]

Hey! This isn’t bad in the slightest!

Although it doesn’t say the amount of punishment one Rune can take, I have high expectations for it.

The first level version of this spell easily fended off the countless head-sized rocks threatening to smash my skull apart back in the goblin cave. Surely it can defend against a couple dozen weapon strikes or monster attacks.

Plus, much like the Eldritch Bullet, I feel like I can cast it however many times as I want without getting tired!

Man, being a warlock is awesome! Is what I want to say if I didn’t become an enemy of the whole world.

Negative thoughts aside, based on what I gather so far, if I want to require new skills. I have to sacrifice more souls to the System. Me levelling up will only boost my stats and skills. Honestly, I don’t trust the System that much, nothing good can possibly come from an entity who demands souls in exchange for power, but it’s not like I have much choice.

Speaking of stats, I wonder how strong I’ve gotten. I managed to reach level 13, but I don’t feel a sudden surge of power that lets me lift cars or sprint a one minute mile.

Okay, I admit, that’s mighty unrealistic of me, but I should feel something, right?

This isn’t going to be a cliche where characters don’t feel any change, underestimate their own

Honestly, I have no clue.

I wouldn’t say I’m in horrible shape. I get good cardio. Though when it comes to physical work with my arms like push-ups, I start trembling at thirty.

Perhaps I should try to test things out.

I drop on all fours and attempt thirty sets.

My arm strength has definitely improved, but I don’t know much about my stamina or speed.

I don’t think I need to run several laps around the farm, I could do that, but that’d be a waste of time.

No, instead

I get up from the

Throughout the day, I helped till a field manually.

By the time I finished overturning the land, I broke into a light sweat.

It seems my physical prowess has improved.

However, I don’t know the fullest extent.

My arms look nothing like Schwarzenagger’s, but I feel my arm muscles are tighter and more robust. As well as other parts of my body.

I decided to help run the farm for the next two days to see how much my body’s changed.

The answer?

A lot.

There’s plenty of isekai revolving around farm life, so I don’t think I need to describe every little detail that happened.

You want more of an explanation? Go and read one of those slow-life farm novels. This isn’t it.

Still for those of you who want

I ploughed through the land and planting oats, barley, whatever.

Hey, just because I spent a summer on a farm, but that doesn’t make me an expert who can discern wheat seeds from oat seeds.

The whole process didn’t take too long. Took me less than a day to get two plots tilled.

Before working on the farm, Ralph and I had a little discussion about how I'd work. 

No, it wasn't a discussion about wages, he simply didn't want me, his benefactor, to labor for him for free. (Very swell guy, when I make it big, I’m definitely coming back and repaying him tenfold.)

So I made him a deal. Three days, I'd work on the fields for three days.

Not knowing I levelled up multiple times, he agreed, probably thinking I'd finish tilling only one field by the deadline at most.

The sight of his stunned face when I told him I already finished two fields was mighty entertaining.

Okay, we’re finally done with the farmwork description. Now it’s time to talk about how much 

Quite simply put, I didn't break a sweat. 

If I went back to Earth with my current stats, I think I might open a farm of my own.

With the three days 'stamina-training' done, I decided to finally move the plot along.

The next morning, I’m back at the outpost again, looking at the requests.

Alin came up to greet me, “Good morning, Shin.”

“Hey Alin, how are you doing?”

“Fine, have you found a party yet?”

“Unfortunately no. I’m socially awkward, it was a real stroke of luck for you guys to invite me. God bless everyone’s souls in heaven.”

“Don’t lump me in with those guys lying in their graves.”

“Of course, my bad.” I quickly apologize and ask her about her situation, “How about you? Found anyone?”

“I was hoping you were available.”

Why does that sound like a cheap pick-up line?

“You want to form a group with me?”

“Yes, is there a problem?” she questions.

“None, but my skills are limited to just throwing Eldritch Mote and Rune of Protection, I’m pretty much useless as a frontliner, scout or support.”

“Not a problem, I just need someone with a good head on their shoulders.” she brushes off my concerns, “Not like those bright-eyed fools who rushed in headlong.”

Having already taken a two day farm break, I don’t have much to do. I ask about the contents of the next adventure, “I’m in. What sort of request are we taking on?”

“An investigation request.”

“Specifics?”

“Monsters have been pouring out of the Nazul forest recently.

Based on reports of some mages, a surge of unidentified magic was detected a week ago.

Reward is ten silvers from the guild. Enough for a person to live for two months.”

A week ago in a forest…

It couldn’t be the Eldritch Magic that isekai-ed me, right?

“So you in?”

I ask for clarification on the contents of the request, “I presume we’re trying to locate the source and not fight any monsters?”

“Pretty much, if we find anything suspicious, we report back to the Guild.”

Ten silvers…

“Seems a bit suspicious, it’s way too lucrative of a quest for rookies like us.” I reply “It’s like they’re asking us to walk into another goblin colony but with lower pay this time.” I joke.

In all honesty, I’m getting some bad vibes similar to the ones I got from the goblin cave.

“Oh…” She sheepishly rubs the back of her hooded head, “I forgot to tell you but I’m a Bronze-rank. The request is Bronze-ranked. Don’t worry, a Wood-tag like you can join, it’s not a very difficult one on paper, I made sure of that.”

I let out a stupid “What?”

This girl was a professional!?

I mean, I know she’s skilled, but I assumed it’s because she’s of a noble lineage, special training or whatnot. Genuinely I didn’t expect her to be a veteran, even though that seems to be the most plausible explanation.

Guess I’m being influenced too much by light novels. No way the person in front of me is some princess or legendary warrior playing an adventurer for fun.

That stuff only happens in trash isekai.

Hold on, I’m in an Isekai!

She nods her head with closed eyes in response at my surprise, “Yeah, figured that would be how you’d react.”

Hold on, if she’s Bronze-rank, does that mean… that Kael, Serena and the dipshit Eric were also Bronze-rank?

I confirm my suspicions, “Wait, were those guys also-”

“No, they weren’t.” Alin denies, “All of them including the mage were Wood ranked.”

Eh? They were Wood rank?

“Why did you form a party with them then?” I ask.

“They looked like they had good character and potential, unfortunately their hubris got the better of them.”

“Ah.”

It made sense.

Speaking of our old party, I wonder how the other survivor’s doing.

“What about Serena? How is she doing?”

“Dunno.” the ranger half-heartedly shrugs, “Dropped her off at a nearby inn, haven’t seen her then.”

“I see.”

“So are you in or not?”

“Are we on any time constraints?”

“No, but we should hurry. One week is long enough for traces to vanish, but not disappear completely.

If we waste too much time, investigating will be much harder.”

Hmm… Alright, why not? An investigation mission sounds a lot safer than the previous goblin slaying quest.

“Before we go, I better get some equipment. What I’m wearing is not suitable for a fight.”

“Very well. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning. If you aren’t here by then, I’ll take on the quest by myself.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

I wave goodbye and start my impromptu shopping trip.

I made my way from the outpost to the blacksmith.

It wasn’t too far, lots of the businesses like apothecaries or gear stores are close to the outpost.

Doesn't take a genius to know why they’re stationed so close. Adventurers need those supplies.

Ralph gave me a tour of the town before, introduced me to a few of the folks around here as well.

Quite the small community. Excluding adventurers, there can't be more than a few hundred people.

With money on hand from the goblin request, piled up with the chump change from doing the odd slime exterminating side gig. I can finally afford to splurge a little.

Two minutes down the road, I entered the first shop.

The blacksmith’s

Several shelves and tables were full of weapons and armor straight out of a typical fantasy blacksmith’s.

No particular order was made in their arrangement.

A metal helm next to a pair of leather boots, a shield besides a halberd, chainmail next to a quiver of arrows.

Despite the number of bizarre combinations, the goods were all neatly in place. Not a single item was haphazardly thrown or crammed into a space.

A contradiction if I ever saw one.

Ignoring the displays, I stride over to a man polishing a sword.

I made my presence known to the owner, “Excuse me?”

The owner, Garv, a stout man with impressive arm musculature, looks up.

Same can’t be said for the beer belly and his badly shaved whiskers.

I half suspect he’s of dwarven blood.

Looking up from his work, Garv greets me, “Oh, you’re the brat crashing at Ralph’s place. What can I do for you?”

“Yup, I’m looking to get some armor for myself.”

“Any requirements?”

Getting straight to the business, eh? Not the sociable type I reckon, but it’s fine, I’m not the chattiest myself.

“Light and maneuverable, but can protect me from a stab in the back."

“Your budget?”

“Twenty-five silvers.”

“Hmm…” He strokes one of his whiskers, “Wait here.”

The blacksmith goes into the back of the shop and comes out with a crate full of leather pieces.

He plops it down and glances at me for a brief moment. Then his thick fingers begin rummaging through the pile and pulls out a chest piece and several joint protection.

Looks a bit like the basic gear one wears for airsoft or paint ball battles.

“Here try it on.”

He thrusts the chest piece into my arms. I hold it in my hands and take a good look.

Incredibly basic, literally thick pieces of animal hide.

It covered my vitals, joints and thighs.

However, it’s light. More importantly, it’ll give me some protection. After seeing how Kael and Eric pathetically died, I decided to play things more safe.

Satisfied, I ask for the price.

“That’ll be ten silvers.”

I part with 40% of the twenty-five silvers I gained from the goblin extermination request.

After paying the coins, I say a quick, ‘Thanks, have a nice day.’

Before I can take two steps away from the counter, Garv calls out to me.

“Wait.”

I turn around to see what he wants.

“Take this as well.”

In his usual gruff manner, he shoves a shortsword and scabbard into my hands.

“A sword?”

I hold it stupidly in my hands, unsure why he’s telling me to hold it.

“First time service, your physique has potential.” He bluntly replies, “I don’t know what profession you have, but it wouldn’t hurt to try your hand at a sword.”

Wow! Turns out it is free!

See everyone? It pays to be polite to others.

“Thank you! I’ll be sure to come back again!”

Now that I’ve acquired a modicum of extra protection and a free weapon to boot. It’s time to move on to the next and only item I need.

The next stop was Auntie Heather’s. Both the name of the shop and proprietor’s. Another one of the folks Ralph introduced me to.

No, she is not a hag, as far as I know.

But she is a sweet neighbourhood lady type who has a talent for baking pies. Apparently she learnt them from her father back in Brooks.

Not sure why she’s in the middle of a nowhere village when she could open up a bakery of her own.

However, who am I to judge about life choices? I practically became the enemy of the world just by developing a taste for Lovecraftian TTRPG monsters.

I walk up to a quaint little wood shop bursting with flora and fauna of all kinds.

Being careful not to make skin-contact with any of the plants, I walk up and open the door.

More plants greet my view, the walls were lined with glass vials containing all manners of concoctions I can scarcely envision their usage for.

To add to the chaotic mess, sitting out of place by the windows was a table of pies, from the smell, I think they’re made from blueberries.

Personally I’m more of an apple pie guy. But damn, do those pies smell nice!

“Hello there love, what can I do for you?”

“Hey there, Auntie Heather. I’m looking to buy some healing potions and a few antidotes.”

Unlike the image one gets from the usual stereotypes of a middle-aged creepy apothecary woman, Auntie Heather looks no older than late thirties to early forties.

Despite the mess, she dresses very neatly like a Victorian woman and has her brown hair in a bun.

With a smile on her face, she asks me, “How many do you need?”

“Six healing and three antidotes.”

Auntie Heather smiles, “Coming right up.”

“That’ll be a total of one silver.”

Hunh, potions are surprisingly cheap. I thought the amount I purchased would be worth at least double.

I happily part ways with silver.

After taking the money, she goes to one of the packed shelves and takes half a dozen red vials and three green vials.

She then takes out a waist pouch and neatly puts them all inside. Each separated and attached by a strip of leather to prevent them from clinking with one another.

“The pouch is free, consider it first time

“Wow thanks!”

The gifts don’t just stop there.

“Would you like a slice of pie?” she asks.

“Sorry, I already stuffed myself at the outpost.”

“How about a small slice then?”

Hmm… I already rejected her once, it’d be rude to do so a second time.

“Sure.”

She goes to the window and slices a small piece, a glimpse of the dark filling has my mouth pool with saliva.

She hands it to me on a napkin, the wonderful, sweet, fruity scent invades my nostrils and makes me swallow hard.

“Here you go, enjoy.”

“Thanks, Auntie Heather!”

The apothecary woman smiles, “Come back any time dear.”

I walk out the door and unceremoniously cram the pie into my mouth in one go.

Bad idea.

The moment I shoved the delicious morsel into my mouth, my tongue suffered third degree burns.

‘Phew!’

Hot! Hot! Hot!

Bit by bit, the heat subsides and I manage to actually enjoy the treat.

As I walk, I ponder my interactions with the local village folk. More like the town folk given the size of this place.

The people are so nice, a sword and a pouch. Oh, can’t forget the pie I stuffed into my mouth.

My cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk’s.

As I chew

Then, I realised something.

Wait…

My cynical thinking kicks in.

The only way anyone can be given something for free is if they have plenty of money or they have ill intentions.

Could it be that they ripped me off and are giving me these things so I’d be lured back to purchase more of their overpriced items?

The thought sent shivers down my spine.

Damnit! My grandmother always nagged me all the time to watch out for these kinds of people! Can’t believe I still fell for their insidious tactics!

You know what? There’s no point going back and demanding a refund. I don’t know what the standard price for a loaf of bread is, let alone medicine and armor.

I also don’t want to paint a bad image of Ralph after all the help he’s given me. If I show up demanding refunds and calling them con-artists, they might smear Ralph’s name and credibility with

Besides, those are the only apothecary and blacksmith in the entire town. No point trying to find another one. Even if I rushed to Brooks, the shops would all be closed by the time I arrive.

‘Sigh…’

Ignorance is bliss? More like ignorance is sin.

Ah, whatever, next time I meet Alin, I’ll ask her about the economy, sales price of standard adventuring gear and whatnot.

If they didn’t rip me off, great. If they did, well I’m never going to their shops again. Even if it’s far, I’ll find more credible and better alternatives.

With my shopping done, I still had a good amount of sunlight left, it wasn’t even noon right now.

So I went to the guild to pick up a local slime extermination quest to warm myself up.

Thanks to my upgraded Eldritch Bullet, I made short work of the slimes. It took me barely two minutes to eradicate the pests eating at the crop fields. Due to the innate weakness of slimes, I was unable to test

Honestly, I don’t even know why I bothered with that request. Gave me a few coppers at best.

Not that I’m complaining, better overkill than no-kill.

With the request done, I made another trip to the outpost, collected the reward and went back to the ranch.

The next morning, I went to the outpost and met up with Alin.

Upon seeing my new gear, she remarks, “Not bad, definitely a step up from before.”

Together, we left Tros along the main road.

On the road, we didn’t talk much.

During our brief goblin-slaying trip, Kael and Serena (mostly Kael) were the only ones who engaged in conversation. Me and Alin belonged to the quiet group.

A socially awkward teen with weird interests, and an aloof no-nonsense (possible) elf ranger.

You can guess how our conversation went, right?

Whelp, went about as much as one would expect.

Absolutely nothing.

For a good hour or two, we were on the main road.

Until we reach a sparse forest.

A suspiciously familiar sparse forest with tall thick conifers and evergreens with trunks thick enough to hide a person.

…

Isn’t this the place I rescued Ralph from those goblins all a week ago?

To confirm, I ask Alin, “This is the place we're supposed to investigate?”

“Correct.” she affirms.

“It’s really close to the main road. Why hasn’t this place been cut down?”

“Officially, it’s stated that sacred spirits dwell within these woods. To log these woods is to call down the wrath of the powers that call this forest their home.”

“Officially?” Smells of a massive cover-up, “ Unofficially, what’s the stance?”

She remains silent for a brief moment, before sharing what she knows, “Unofficially, from rumours, strange things happen."

Wow, now we’re getting into the paranormal. What’s next? Sci-Fi? A hidden technologically advanced species that came from outer space?

“What sort of strange things?”

“Sometimes a person might walk for half an hour, finding themselves only a dozen or so feet from the edge of the forest where they began.

Landmarks suddenly shift. A large boulder west, could suddenly end up on the east despite the person going only straight.

Unidentified creatures, warped plantlife, minor visual, auditory and sensory hallucinations.

These are just some of the many cases available to view.”

This is really starting to step into the bounds of a ghost haunting.

“The guild once sent a group with a priest to investigate, but there weren’t any readings of Infernal, Dark or Necromantic magic.

When the group returned, all they said was that it's best not to dig too deep into it.”

What?

All those bizarre events and you’re telling me no magic was involved? Is this place ruled by some twisted Fae creature?

“And your opinion?”

“I feel something… weird.”

“Weird?”

“It’s… off.” she goes on, “I guess you can compare it to a beggar in a royal ball. An existence with no intent to harm, yet doesn’t fit in nor is wanted.

There’s something here that doesn’t belong.”

Interesting, very interesting.

An enigmatic existence with spatial and mental manipulating properties that makes the inhabitants uneasy and feel repulsion.

What are the chances of reality bending eldritch powers at play here?

Questions can be asked as much as I want, but answers will not be

Hunh, since when did I become a sage?

Meh, not important, back on track.

Without any further questions, we entered the forest.

“Stay close.” Alin orders.

I follow behind Alin, tense and on alert. My companion was the exact opposite. Loose and unbothered, despite telling me to be on guard.

Actually, she never told me to be on guard, just stay close.

Feels a bit like she’s treating me as a child.

Though if her suspected elven lineage is indeed true, then that makes sense.

A few minutes of walking into the forest, she glances back to check up on me.

Seeing my tension, she quickly explains, “The entrances to the woods are usually safe. Even if they aren’t, there are early signs one can detect.”

“Care to give an example?”

“Large broken branches, blood, carcasses, and trodden undergrowth are a few of the easier signs to identify signs of monsters or predators.”

“Got it.”

With my worries somewhat assuaged, we continue on our merry way deeper into the forest.

Some time passes with the

I must say, this place reminds me a bit of Canada. Very nice country, it’s where the my pen pal, the one who introduced me to D&D, is from.

One would think the Canadians live

He once showed me a picture of his apartment surroundings.

“Dire Wolves. Usually they’re further in the forest.”

“How have they not found us yet?”

“I cast a spell that masks our scent before we entered this forest, but be careful. There are some cases where elite Dire Wolves develop mana-sensing abilities.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I’ll take the one on the right, you take the one on the left.”

Time to to est

“On the count of three.

One, two, three.”

Our timing’s a little off, but that’s to be expected.

Alin’s arrow flies through the air piercing the skull of one of the beasts

‘ZWUACK!’

Jesus, that was louder than I anticipated. Sounded like a gunshot.

Alin jabs my side, I clutch the hit area in shock.

“Can you not tone down the racket?” she hisses, “Now they’re all onto us!”

“They?”

‘Awroo!’

Oooooh, they, as in the rest of the pack.

I see.

We’re screwed

All the enemies I killed consisted of sluggish slimes and goblins who only knew how to charge onwards or retreat back.

I have no clue how well I do against agile opponents.

Dangit! If I knew this would happen. I would’ve polished my skills with the Horned rabbits!

“Hey! What are you doing!?”

I looked around to see where Alin was but couldn’t find a sign of her.

“Up here idiot!”

I look up and see her already twenty feet above my head.

If this girl isn’t an elf, then she’s a monkey with how fast she climbs those heights.

Not even the most enthusiastic rock climbers can beat her stamina and pace.

“Jump!”

“What?” I’m sorry, did this girl just tell me to jump?

“I said jump! Hurry up!”

It seems my ears are indeed working.

“Quit standing there and get a move on!”

“I’m a human, not a monkey.” I retorted, “I can’t jump that high!”

“Do you want to get torn apart by wolves?”

She’s a sensible person, if she’s telling me to jump

I aim for a thick branch next to hers.

Bending my legs, I give the strongest jump I can monster.

Next thing I know, I’m flying through the air.

This euphoric sensation was cut short when I suddenly felt myself plummeting to the ground.

With pure instinct, I extend my hands out and barely manage to hold onto a sturdy branch. Thank goodness I brought some gloves, otherwise my hands would be full of needles and splinters!

Unfortunately, due to the awkward angle I held my grip was slipping bit by bit.

Luckily for me, Alin was around and she hoisted me up with wiry strength not matching her lithe frame.

After I’m safely in the trees with her, the ranger orders, “Quick! Hide behind the branches!”

I scurry over to a spot with cover and peer out of the gaps.

A large pack of a dozen rushed onto the scene.

Upon arrival, they witness the corpses of their comrades and howl into the air.

The Dire Wolves comb the area, sniffing and barking, intent on avenging the death of their comrades.

I look to Alin for directions, “Should we attack?”

“Hmm, let's, we already attracted their attention anyway. Might as well get rid of them so they don’t hinder us later.

But do you have anything else in your arsenal that makes less ruckus than your Eldritch Bullet?”

“Nope. That’s the only offensive spell I have.”

Alin deliberates for some time, “Fine, just use Eldritch Bullet. Whatever other monsters hide in these woods would be aware of our presence by now.

Instead of using the enhanced Eldritch Bullet, I decide to go with the original multi-shot version to see the damage comparison.

‘Zwuack!’ ‘Zwuack!’ ‘Zwuack!’

In three quick bursts, half-blown wolf corpses litter the forest ground.

Truly, this is an overpowered spell.

With the wolves now dead, we get off the tree. Alin simply jumps down, whilst I awkwardly shimmy myself to the ground.

Upon reaching the ground, I witness the ranger gutting one of the corpses of the wolves much to my horror and disgust.

She rips out the innards of one, possibly an intestine and smothers it all over herself.

Next thing I knew she approaches me and lathers my body in blood with a fresh intestine.

Great, are we going to yell, ‘Skulls for the Skull Throne, blood for the Blood God!’ next?

“What are you doing?”

“Putting blood on ourselves.”

“Why?”

“Any animal that smells this will know we’ve killed or think we’re Dire Wolves.

This’ll ward off monsters weaker than Dire Wolves, preventing unnecessary fights and encounters.”

“Oh, smart, but did you have to get it on my shirt? It’s the only one I have.”

“Don’t be a wuss, you can just clean it later.”

With that gruesome preparation out of the way, we continue on our merry way deeper into the forest.

Aside from the Direwolves, we hardly had any encounters.

No encounters is good and all, but there’s only so much inaction one can take while wandering.

“Are we even making any progress with this request?” I ask Alin.

“Somewhat.” she responds.

“Somewhat? We’ve been walking non-stop from Tros for three hours straight.”

Alin lets out a sigh, “Fine, we can take a break.”

She sat herself down on a fallen log, its bark long gone and peeled from who knows what.

I didn’t see any other place to sit, so I took a seat next to her.

As soon as we were both seated, she shared with me her analyses of our previous encounter, “Direwolves are usually found deeper in where the woods thicken. It’s rare for them to venture close to the more open regions of the forest.

There are three possibilities.

One, the population of direwolves is too large to be sustained, thus some of them are migrating out to search for food. This can be ruled out since there’s been an explosive increase in various other monster sightings.

Two, a superior species or predator is actively hunting the Dire Wolves, forcing them out of their habitat. Potential possibility, but hard to explain how other monsters show up.

Three, there’s something deeper in the forest causing the monsters to flee the forest or expand the population.

Given what we’re seeing so far. It’s likely the last option”

“Doesn’t that mean we can go back to the outpost and report the findings?”

She shakes her head, “We found changes in behaviour, but not the root cause for their migration. There’s still work to be done. Breaktime’s over, let’s get going.”

Aww man, already?

Let’s be clear on one thing, it’s not because I have no stamina. I barely got winded when doing farm work on the ranch, and I can run a several mile marathon non-stop back on Earth.

But this girl’s something else entirely.

Perhaps, I should try striking up a conversation, maybe that’ll get her to slow her pace.

I start with something simple, “Do you often adventure alone?”

“Usually, yes. There were times I adventured with others. Though the times I took on a request solo outweighed the times I journeyed by my lonesome.”

“How were they?”

“A few decent individuals, some professional on the need-to-know level, then a few scumbags who are obnoxious.”

Bit lackluster of an answer, but nonetheless, I attempt to prolong our dialogue, “What made you decide to become an adventurer?”

“Guess I just wanted to see new sights. You?”

“Not many job openings for an Otherworlder with no papers.”

She chuckles, “True. If you had papers, what would you do?”

“Me?”

“Probably a politician.”

“A politician?” her voice full of skepticism.

“Is that so surprising?”

“I thought you might’ve said something like becoming a great mage.”

“It was a joke.”

“You really had me fooled, so what do you actually want to do?”

Honestly, I really enjoyed watching videos on Youtube. Especially the gaming channels.

I tried my hand at a gaming channel once in late middle school, but it didn't go too well.

Then I experimented a little by talking about politics, ideology and history. Got a decent start of three thousand subscribers after two months.

Last I checked, I was nearing the ten thousand subscriber milestone.

“It’s hard to describe, but the job I want would be an entertainer.”

“An entertainer? You want to be a jester or some circus show?”

“No, no. Not that kind of entertainer.”

I scratch my head, how exactly am I supposed to explain what a Youtuber is?

“It’s hard to explain, I guess I would just do things while doing satirical commentary, people would watch it and if they like it, the agency I’m contracted to gives me money.”

“I have no idea what sort of job you want to do. How is what you describe no different from a deadbeat who complains about the world?”

“I make money by talking and doing stuff I like. A deadbeat mooches off others without doing anything.”

“You know what, I still don’t get it. Forget I asked.”

“What about you?” I ask “what was your dream job?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

You can’t just ask me what I want to do and not answer! Come on, give me something more substantial!

“Back home, I did what I was told, it’s been like that for years.”

“Heavy, are you enjoying your current lifestyle?”

“Too soon to say, but definitely less pressure and more flexible than being a soldier.”

I swear, half the people I encounter in this world have ties to the military. Just how serious is the monster and demon crisis in this isekai fantasy?

“Say, where are you fr—”

Just like back in the goblin cave Alin forces me to cease my actions.

This time instead of shoving me to the ground, she clamps her leather fingerless gloves over my hand.

I don’t mean to be a pervert, but I can smell her wrist, a mix of earth, sweat, and slight cooling mint. As well as a faint irony smell of dried blood.

Blood?

Oh shit, I better keep my mouth shut about her odour.

Thankfully, I have a constitution where my face doesn’t easily flush.

Or maybe it’s because she’s so zoned in with her ranger senses that she doesn’t notice.

Unable to read my inner thoughts, she states the obvious, “Something’s off.”

Duh, I could tell from the way you clasped your hand around my mouth.

After a few moments, she lets go of my mouth, I ask her, “What is it?”

“Do you sense it?” she asks cryptically.

“No, not really.”

“The trees, look at them. What do you see?

I glance around, the trees are more clustered together, creating spaces of dark shadows. The vegetation is more barren or dark com

“Everything is more dense and dreary?

“Exactly, we’ve walked for only three to four hours. Based on our speed, we should’ve walked roughly forty miles.”

She looks at me, expecting an answer

I however, am not a ranger, nor am I local, nor versed in this other world’s geography.

Meaning I don’t know shit of what she’s implying.

I demand an explanation, “Please explain.”

“Right, you’re an Otherworlder.”

Now you remember!?

Come on! My opinion of you was so high before! How can you forget such an important detail!?

Again, oblivious to my thoughts, she goes on, “Based on old sources from previous veteran parties sent to map the Nazul forest, this region of the forest can only be encountered at least two hundred miles in.

Unless there’s some dark druid expanding the forest, some force teleported us here.”

That doesn’t sound good.

“Are we lost?”

She pulls out a compass, “Strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“We’ve been teleported deeper in the same direction we’re walking in.”

“So what do we do? Do we go back or continue onwards?”

Alin holds her chin in her hand, “It would be wise to head back, but it seems there’s something here that’s drawing us closer to the source. I say we risk it.”

I nod along with what she said, because whatever the case. I’m the bottom and she’s the top. If I don’t, she could just ditch me and go on by herself. She’s the experienced veteran who knows how to get out of a forest, not me.

Onward we walked, for who knows how long.

Another hour or two could’ve gone by, possibly as short as half an hour.

Whatever the case, we trek on.

Time drags on, bit by bit, my feet grow more and more weary.

Yet, I press on.

We continue on for an hour or two more.

Then, the thing I feared most happened.

Picture this.

The average push-up one can do is thirty on the lower range.

Thirty is the max one can do without making one’s arms feel like falling off.

Someone might ask, “Imagine trying to make it past thirty, surely it’s simple right? Just do one more.”

Okay, they’ve done it, they’re feeling exhausted, but they've done it.

Then they’re asked to do another one.

The person exercising grits their teeth and squeezes out the thirty-second push-up, feeling even more weary than ever before.

But the audience isn’t satisfied, they ask the guy to keep on doing it again and again.

Each time the person tries, the exhaustion increases tenfold until the person falls flat on their stomach, unable to continue any further.

This is the exact situation I’m in right now.

My legs are killing me.

No matter how much stronger I got from jumping to Level 13, I couldn’t keep up with the pace of my ranger friend.

However hard I try to endure, the mounting weariness finally crashes in.

To quote T.S. Elliot, ‘The world doesn’t end with a bang, but with a whimper.’

I trip over a root and stumble into a tree, falling to my butt.

“Damn it!”

I tried to get back up, but my legs refused to listen.

You know what, maybe I could use a breather.

So there I sat for a few moments. With the soreness somewhat subsided, I get back up.

Unfortunately, a few moments was far too long.

By the time I recovered, I lost sight of my companion, “Alin! Alin! Where are you!?”

Nothing. Not a peep.

I tried calling a few more times. No response, not even the fluttering of leaves or crackling of undergrowth.

That’s when it hit me. Something’s terribly wrong.

No matter how long I sat on the ground, she shouldn’t have walked out of earshot. Even if she wasn’t an elf like I presumed, she should’ve been able to hear the echoes and yell back.

I look around my surroundings, surely there must be some familiar reference point I can use to backtrack.

None, nothing. Everywhere was just a dense cluster of trees with a few odd spaces a person can walk through.

I’m lost.

Shit.

Guess I’ll have to rely on the old-fashioned way.

Bawling my lungs out.

“Alin!” I scream out into the woods, “Alin! Where are you!?”

Nothing but my echoes.

Undeterred, I try again, “Alin! Where are you!?”

Still nothing.

After two minutes of me yelling until my voicebox cracks, my voice hopelessly gives out.

I sank to my knees in despair.

I’m a goner. I have no clue where I am. This forest is full of monsters and asides from my spells, the only things I have are a sword and three potions.

Truly, I’m fucked.

As I wallow in my sorrows, a voice calls out.

Finally! At long last, a response came to me!

But it wasn’t Alin.

“Quit screaming you bastard!”

It’s the voice of a grouch who ran out of alcohol.

Shit, don’t tell me it’s a hobo. I’ve had my fill of seeing those guys in the homeless shelters mother runs.

“You son of a bloated pus-covered Warg! Who are you calling a hobo!”

Scratch that, a temperamental, jobless drunk whose paycheck hasn’t arrived and ran out of booze.

“Bloody bastard!”