Arriving at the train station, my first order of business was to secure a ticket for the journey to the Last Forest.
A glance around revealed a ticket machine, conveniently placed for travellers like me. The machine boasted a digital map, aiding in my navigation.
I swiftly checked the map for the nearest station to the Last Forest, which turned out to be Sector 91. Using my smartwatch, I initiated a seamless transaction.
The user-friendly interface made the process a breeze. A few swift selections, and voila, my ticket was in hand.
The machine efficiently processed the transaction, delivering my freshly acquired ticket, complete with a platform assignment.
It was as simple as that.
The display guided me to Platform 5 for the next leg of my journey.
And so, I stepped onto the hovertrain that would carry me to the Last Forest.
These hovertrains were unlike any conventional trains I had ever encountered.
They possessed the extraordinary ability to levitate in the air, an incredible feat that set them apart in this futuristic world.
As I settled into my seat, I marvelled at the remarkable technology that allowed these hovertrains to operate. They didn't fly high above the ground; instead, they glided just a few inches above the surface, moving smoothly and silently along their designated tracks.
The absence of noise was particularly striking. Unlike the rumbling and clattering of traditional trains, hovertrains operated in near silence.
The tranquillity within the cabin was both unexpected and refreshing. It was as if I was travelling on a cushion of air, a surreal experience.
The hovertrain, at its core, is a high-speed rail system that achieves its remarkable speed by using magnetically levitating tracks.
As I settled into my seat on the hovertrain, an automated female voice resonated through the cabin, politely urging all passengers to take their seats. With a soft hum, the cabin doors seamlessly sealed shut, and the hovertrain levitates.
What made this experience particularly intriguing was the sensation or rather the lack of it.
Inside the train, there was no telltale swaying or jolting one might associate with a moving vehicle. It was as though we were suspended in a state of serene stillness, making it almost impossible to discern that we were, in fact, hurtling through space.
In reality, these incredible hovertrains were reaching astonishing speeds, hurtling along at a breathtaking rate of 700 kilometres per hour.
While the train's interior remained calm and composed, outside, the world passed by in a blur, whisking us closer to our destination with each passing second.
I had initially hoped to enjoy the scenery as we sped along, but the hovertrain's incredible velocity made everything outside a blurry streak. The world passed by in a dizzying rush, and I found it nearly impossible to take in the sights.
Recognizing that there was little to appreciate in the outside world at this speed, I decided it was best to rest during the journey.
Closing my eyes, I settled into my seat, letting the soothing rhythm of the train's movement lull me into a state of relaxation.
It was a chance to recharge, both physically and mentally, before I arrived at my long-anticipated destination, Last Forest.
***
As the hovertrain swiftly journeyed forward, a cheerful ding resonated through the cabin, capturing everyone's attention.
An automated announcement followed, indicating our imminent arrival at Sector 91, with a mere five minutes left until our destination.
The city, Reddison City, where my expedition had begun, was intricately organized into a system of 50 sectors. Each sector housed various activities and landmarks, except for the unique Sector 50.
Sector 50 stood out as a vast expanse of pristine forest, untouched by urban development. Spanning the equivalent of four sectors, this exceptional locale was aptly named the "Last Forest."
Interrupted by the announcement, I prepared to disembark as the hovertrain gracefully came to a halt. The cabin doors slid open, inviting me to step out into Sector 49, my next step on the journey to the Last Forest.
My feet now firmly on the ground, I began my journey toward the Last Forest.
The Last Forest was separated into two distinct zones, each offering a unique set of challenges. The first stage, referred to as the outer region, is the initial part of the forest.
It was generally considered less perilous, and the risks here were relatively low. This outer region was inhabited by a few mutant creatures, but for the most part, it was populated by smaller and less threatening monsters.
These diminutive creatures posed minimal danger and were not a significant threat to those who ventured into this part of the forest.
Conversely, the second stage, known as the inner region, was a whole different story. This part of the forest was characterized by its heart, the stunning Emerald Lake that lay at its centre.
It was notorious for its extreme danger, as the inner region was teeming with powerful and menacing creatures. The stark contrast in danger levels between the two stages was evident.
In terms of sheer size, the outer region appeared extensive due to its broad expanse, but it was essential to remember that its vastness was primarily a matter of width, marking the boundary of the forest. In comparison, the inner region was considerably larger, both in width and depth.
Well, I did not require delving into the dangerous inner region; instead, I could accomplish my goals within the safer confines of the outer region.
As I approached the boundary of the Last Sector, my eyes fell upon a rather shabby wall that surrounded the area. This barrier had seen better days, showing signs of age and neglect.
It appeared that the wall had not received any attention in quite some time. The reason for this was rather straightforward: there had been no pressing need for renovations or repairs.
Despite the presence of monsters within the forest, none of these creatures had ventured beyond the forest's boundaries for two centuries.
The wall had stood as a silent sentinel, a barrier that had remained untested by any invading forces.
I continued toward the imposing gate set within the weathered wall. What struck me was the complete absence of any person around, not a soul in sight.
The authorities had indeed designated a guard for this gate, but it was evident that the guard's presence was a mere formality. No one had ventured into this sector for an extended period, making the guard's duties an exercise in futility.
This convenient absence of guards worked to my advantage. Now I could enter inside the forest without any hindrance.
***
I couldn't help but curse the author under my breath. Why hadn't they provided clearer directions to the relic's location? I had been trekking through the forest for a solid three hours without a single break.
Surprisingly, I didn't experience the usual fatigue one might expect after such a trek. I realized it might be due to the unusually high concentration of mana within my body.
While my mana reserves weren't particularly vast, they were evidently enough to sustain me through this outer region of the forest.
I couldn't help but wonder how challenging this journey would be for a normal person without the gift of mana.
To locate the relic I sought, I had a single clue: a dead tree that stood in stark contrast to the vibrant life of the rest of the forest.
The catch was that this forest was vast, with countless trees, and finding that lone dead tree was akin to searching for a needle in a haystack.
The only guidance I had was a vague description: the protagonist had journeyed straight toward the northwest from the gate.
While I pressed onward through the forest, an unsettling wave of concern washed over me. My trusty watch, which had been faithfully ticking away, suddenly began to malfunction and then abruptly powered down.
It was at that precise moment that the significance of a solitary line from the novel resurfaced in my thoughts:
'Connection from outer world gets weak near him.'
I continued to move in the same direction, knowing I was on the right track. As I pressed forward, my eyes finally fell upon the elusive dead tree.
There, standing tall and lifeless, it appeared exactly as described in the novel.
I came to a halt in front of the dead tree, fully aware that this was the place where the relic was.
The next stage of my quest demanded a sacrifice I loathed – offering my own blood to the dead tree. To do so, I had to inflict pain upon myself, a prospect I truly detested. But the allure of the relic pushed me forward, knowing it was worth the discomfort.
With a deep breath, I retrieved a knife and, with hesitation, made a cut on my hand. To my surprise, it didn't hurt as much as I had anticipated; instead, it stung like a fierce pinch.
The cut wasn't deep, but it served the purpose, and as the drops of my blood met the roots of the dead tree, I knew that I was one step closer to obtaining the valuable relic, despite the temporary sting and discomfort.
"The scent of human blood wafted through the air, a fragrance I hadn't savoured in decades"
Suddenly, a presence approached. I instinctively turned my gaze in the direction of the sound. An entity emerged into view, perched upon a sturdy branch of the tree.
It was Betal.