Chapter 23: Footsteps

The Mist Forest lay deep in the heart of the Ephara Continent, its ancient, hidden remnants combined with its natural, unique terrain giving it a magical density unlike any other region.

And with it came the dangerous monsters birthed from the pale mist.

Living long in a high-concentration magical environment, nourished by abundant magic, these monsters either possessed bodies far sturdier than ordinary creatures or innate abilities to manipulate natural laws.

They occupied the highest ecological niche in the entire forest.

But likewise, their perch at the pyramid's apex relied on the vast base below.

In this forest shrouded in perpetual thin mist, there also dwelled a sea of ordinary creatures not listed in monster compendiums.

“Rustle.”

A gentle breeze stirred, leaves twirling and falling.

The brown bark resembled a dried-up riverbed, rough and cracked with fissures and grooves.

From afar, it seemed just an ordinary oak branch in the forest.

But if you waited patiently, observed more closely,

you’d gradually notice the fleeting crimson flicker of a forked tongue in the air, and the faint, elongating outline subtly rising on the trunk’s surface.

This was a Rosalind sharp-nosed viper.

The mottled light-brown patterns on its fine scales, along with the patience and sluggishness typical of cold-blooded animals, let it blend seamlessly with its surroundings.

Its inverted triangular, elongated head also hinted from a natural perspective at the snake’s potent venom.

It waited quietly.

The Mist Forest never lacked prey.

Its unique body structure, able to swallow multiples of its own size, nearly five feet in length, and two sharp fangs beneath the skull ready to inject venom at any time,

made its menu not limited to frogs and lizards, but even some small to medium mammals.

And if it encountered creatures far too large, the survival instinct from its bloodline would make them steer clear of this deadly, toxin-wielding danger.

“Squeak.”

A long-eared rat covered in fluff cautiously shifted through the fallen leaves.

Its clear, foolish rat eyes seemed to foretell its fate.

Drawing closer.

The viper’s cold vertical pupils held no emotion, its neck arched, muscles taut.

The explosive power beneath its scales meant it needed only a fraction of a second to inject its venom, then coil and constrict, awaiting the prey’s death.

The fine brown scales quivered slightly with muscle tension.

This was the prelude to its strike.

Then,

Buzz—

An iron-gray sharp gleam flashed briefly in the air.

Amid the splintered wood chips flying from the trunk, the panicked long-eared rat fled into the underbrush depths.

The viper’s body remained frozen in its pre-strike arch.

But its head had been severed by the chilling, razor-sharp blade.

“Damn! Scared the hell out of me!”

With lingering fear, I exerted slight force with my right hand, yanking the beheading longsword from the trunk.

It was now my second day back in the Mist Forest.

Unlike expected, the forest’s mist-filled, maze-like trees made navigation tough, even with the professional compass and crude map from the general store.

Alone, every rustle heightened my alertness, forcing me to move slowly and cautiously.

As a result, my progress was even slower than the Rotten Fish and Shrimp team’s—

I hadn’t noticed then, but now I realized Maji likely had some exploration-directional combat technique.

Fortunately, the Fire Garlic Vine’s location wasn’t far from River Valley Town. After an afternoon and half a morning of detours, I was nearly there.

Digging a small pit on the ground, I disdainfully used the sword tip to flick the snake’s head in.

A cold fact from my past life—somewhere I’d read—told me snakes could still snap their jaws and inject venom even after decapitation, via muscle memory.

So, for safety, best to bury the head to avoid getting bit.

In my view, the Mist Forest’s biggest dangers were those bizarre monsters;

but for disgust, the ubiquitous snakes and bugs won hands down.

Even with my antidotes and insect repellents, a careless bite from these little things wasn’t a joke.

Standing still, I scanned the surroundings carefully.

Confirming no anomalies, I relaxed slightly, removing my pack and pulling out a cloth.

Resting to recover stamina, I also carefully maintained my new longsword.

Per Barn’s advice yesterday at Rockhammer, unless in major battles, the sword needed cleaning every three days.

But fresh out of the box, knowing it’d soon bear hard-to-remove wear marks, I couldn’t resist keeping it in “brand-new” condition.

The soft cloth wiped gently, clearing the few stains on the blade.

Feeling the resilient, cool hilt, my thoughts wandered.

As an adventurer facing constant combat, a fitting weapon was like a second life.

So, when choosing, you had to confirm if the feel and balance suited your style.

I hadn’t thought much then, buying the sword on a whim, hoping for a bargain.

Looking back, it wasn’t wrong, but I should’ve been more meticulous.

Thankfully, after a day and a half of use, I could confirm the beheading longsword matched me perfectly.

Heavier than standard two-handers but still within my strength control;

its four-foot, double-edged blade let [Whirlwind Slash] shine fully;

even its subdued iron-gray blade suited my taste.

Now, I almost wished for another skirmish, a few goblins to test its edge.

“Uh… skip the bear goblin.”

I joked inwardly.

Standing, I shouldered the slightly heavy pack again.

About to leave, my peripheral caught the snake corpse in the leaves.

As if remembering something, I pulled the slightly wrinkled [Adventurer’s Handbook] from my pocket.

…

21. [Adventurers Should Have Blood on Their Hands]

Hey! What’s with the disgust? That’s fragrant, shiny gold coins!

—21.3 [About Those Crawlies]

…Remember to take their gallbladders. They usually fetch a good price at herb or alchemy shops (depending on size and species).

Certain special types, like the single horn on an Ice Trail Hornsnake’s head or a barrel python’s shed skin, sell well too.

Of course, this is for ordinary creatures. For monsters…

…

“As expected, nearly missed a few silver coins.”

I drew a dagger from my waist, comparing to the handbook’s illustrations, clumsily slicing open the viper’s scaly body.

“Got it!”

In my hands, slick with mucus and blood, was an inky-black sac-like organ.

“A viper this size’s gallbladder from the Mist Forest… probably 3 silver?”

Recalling the price list from the apothecary, I guessed.

In my past life, I’d heard an interesting question.

Same monthly income of 5000, why does rural life feel worlds apart from urban?

Prices differ, sure, but I thought environmental temptations played a role.

If I’d just transmigrated, with only my predecessor’s eighteen years of wheat companionship, 100 gold and 10 gold seemed the same (both fortunes).

But after touring River Valley Town with over a hundred gold in loot, seeing 500-gold potions and four-figure armors,

my understanding of this world sharpened.

At least, when I plucked the writhing snake’s gallbladder from the slime and blood, besides disgust, I felt more joy at the extra silver coins back in town.

Especially with only 24 gold, 2 silver, and 7 copper left on me.

Yes,

once worth over 130 gold, now I had barely a fraction.

The 35-gold beheading longsword and 10-gold leather armor were part of the bill.

But the main culprit draining my funds now lay quietly in my safest, most convenient pouch.

50 gold.

A full, unopened bottle, faintly glowing when shaken—

health potion.

I couldn’t resist in the end.

After all necessary preparations for the outing, I used my remaining funds to add another trump card to my adventures.

But I didn’t regret it.

I knew exactly what that one bottle could do.

The metal’s gleam flashed before me, my reflection on the iron-gray blade.

Focus gathered, translucent text appeared:

…

[Name]: Xia Nan

[Attributes]:

Strength: 6

Agility: 6

Constitution: 5

Intelligence: 5

Perception: 5

Charisma: 5

[Specialties]: Chopping Master

[Skills]: Whirlwind Slash lv5 (Max)

[Equipment/Items]: Deadline, Sturdy Beheading Longsword, Health Potion x1…

…

This was my second adventure.

Undoubtedly, compared to just after transmigrating, whether mentally or physically, I’d undergone massive changes.

If I returned now to that dark, bloody goblin cave,

not saying total victory, but by the time I’d dealt with those four goblin minions, Gagu might not have been fully incapacitated.

Casually tossing the still-twitching snake corpse aside, I calmly pulled out my compass and map.

“Hm… this direction.”

As the destination neared, memories once fogged like the forest air cleared up.

My steps quickened.

About two hours later, as I parted the dense bushes with my hand, an open clearing appeared.

Honestly, the clearing wasn’t large—even including the edging foliage, it was about a quarter basketball court.

But in the towering-tree-filled Mist Forest, it stood out starkly.

At the center was a dark oak tree, thick enough for two to embrace.

Not particularly tall or majestic.

From appearance alone, the only thing distinguishing it from surrounding trees

was the clusters of pale white vines dangling from its branches.

My eyes brightened.

Memories from days ago told me these oddly colored vines glowed like fireflies at night.

“Fire Garlic Vine!”

I exulted inwardly.

But I didn’t rush in.

A sudden clearing in dense forest, eerie glowing plants, potential huge rewards…

Any adventurer with sense wouldn’t charge ahead.

Still a newbie, ever-vigilant, I was even more so.

Gripping my beheading longsword tightly, I half-crouched, body leaning forward in the optimal striking pose.

With minimal noise, I spent a full ten minutes circling the clearing’s edge.

Bushes, treetops…

After a thorough check, confirming no ambushes, I turned my gaze to the central oak.

My expression hesitated.

Forests were thick with trees, often blocking sight and hiding dangers, but they could serve as cover when needed.

In an open area, I’d expose my full position to any hidden foe.

Pondering, I decided.

Stalemate was pointless. I had to act!

Gritting my teeth, right foot forward, I charged.

Nearing the vines, I halted abruptly.

Sword horizontal, iron-gray cold light flashed on the blade.

One second, two, three…

Breeze rustled, branches swaying with “shh” sounds.

Realizing I’d just dueled the air, I sheathed decisively—no one saw, no embarrassment.

Then, fastest speed, I drew my dagger, harvesting clusters of Fire Garlic Vine.

Knowing only I knew this spot, unsure how vine-like plants grew, I left some immature branches for sustainability.

In under five minutes, 32… clusters of Fire Garlic Vine were carefully and swiftly packed into my prepared bag.

“Perfect!”

Tightening the now-weighty pack, about to leave.

Then, from the right-side woods, two hurried footsteps sounded.

“Hm!?”

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.