William glanced down at the flattened remains of a mosquito on his palm. It wasn't just any mosquito; it was the size of a dragonfly, its long, spindly legs and bloated body making it look downright grotesque.
"This place is a nightmare," he muttered to himself, wiping the bloodstain on his trousers. The jungle was dense, humid, and hostile, and these blood-sucking pests weren't making things any easier. Worse yet, they didn't even give him any valuable experience points, which was a huge disappointment for all the irritation they caused.
"Annoying little things!" he grumbled, swatting at another one buzzing near his ear. He had been trudging through the underbrush for a mere ten minutes and had barely made it five miles into the forest. Already, his body was dotted with small wounds; scratches, bites, stings. They weren't deep or life-threatening, but the real issue lay with the poisonous insects that lurked in the shadows. Their bites brought swelling, numbness, and maddening itching.
Not that William was particularly worried. His body was highly resilient, his immune system strong enough to fend off most toxins. It would take a poison far deadlier to put him down, something that could cause paralysis or death. For now, these irritants were just that, annoyances.
But it wasn't the insects that concerned him. It was something far worse.
"The Flower Demon," he whispered, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Ahead, a patch of vibrant, oversized flowers swayed gently in the breeze. Their sweet, intoxicating scent filled the air, luring unsuspecting creatures toward them. The flowers were beautiful, their petals wide and inviting, but William knew better. This was no ordinary patch of flora.
That "flower" was a predator, a demon in disguise. Once anything, animal or human; wandered too close, the flower would snap shut like a trap, devouring its prey whole. It was beautiful but deadly. Fortunately for William, this demon wasn't particularly strong, maybe around level 5 or 6. One well-placed shot was enough to bring it down.
As the demon collapsed, its petals curling inward, William collected the loot it dropped, some rare materials he stowed away in his weathered snakeskin bag. His scattered talents helped marginally, boosting his attributes by small increments, nothing game-changing, but every little bit counted.
Wiping his brow, he continued deeper into the forest.
However, not long after, a more formidable challenge emerged.
[Battle Tip: You have encountered a One-Eyed Wolf.]
The creature that slunk out of the shadows was a sight to behold. It was an old, battle-worn wolf, easily over two meters long, its emaciated body covered in patchy, matted fur. The beast's left eye was blind, leaving a gaping, milky-white orb, and a vicious scar ran down its face, likely the result of a brutal axe wound. This wasn't just any wolf; it was a seasoned hunter. Even with its wounds and frailty, its cunning was unmistakable.
It moved stealthily through the dense foliage, positioning itself for a surprise attack. But William had sharp instincts and wasn't about to let the wolf get the drop on him.
The fight was brief but brutal. The wolf lunged, and in less than five seconds, William had already gained the upper hand. He thrust his spear deep into the creature's abdomen, drawing a thick stream of blood. The wolf howled in agony, a sound that echoed through the jungle like a haunting wail. It staggered back, limping through the trees, desperate to escape.
But William wasn't one to let a wounded beast go free.
Without hesitation, he slammed his spear into the ground, pulled out his trusty slingshot, and in one fluid motion, drew the rubber band to its limit. He fired three iron balls in rapid succession, each one tearing through the air with such force that they whipped the plants aside like a violent gust of wind. Branches splintered and leaves fluttered down as if struck by sniper fire.
The wolf, already limping away, was caught mid-flight by the barrage. It crumpled to the ground, its body sliding to a halt, lifeless.
[You have killed the One-Eyed Wolf. Experience +12!]
As we pressed onward, the creatures in our path grew fiercer and more dangerous. No longer just pests or low-level threats, now we faced beasts of strength and power, most of them hovering around level 6 or 7. Every now and then, a level 8 magical creature would emerge, their sheer presence commanding attention.
William was no stranger to battle, but each fight was becoming a test of endurance. At one point, an enraged level 8 bear charged him, its massive form crashing through the trees like a living battering ram. The beast's fury was palpable, its roars shaking the very ground beneath their feet. William held his ground, clashing with the creature in a fierce exchange. He managed to drive it back, but killing the beast was another matter entirely. Both of them, weary and battered, seemed to understand that this was not a fight worth dying over. After a brief but intense struggle, they both retreated, acknowledging each other as worthy adversaries.
Wiping sweat from his brow, William surveyed the damage. The skirmish had earned him over 30 experience points, a drop in the bucket compared to the 200 he still needed to reach level 8. It wasn't nearly enough, and the grind was beginning to wear him down.
His body bore the scars of the many battles he'd fought. The parts of his body unprotected by leather armor were bleeding, and fatigue was settling deep into his bones. His muscles ached with every step, his movements sluggish. He needed to rest, or risk collapse.
Quietly, he found a hidden spot, away from the dangers of the forest. He sank to the ground, pulling out a bandage and wrapping it tightly around his wounds. The bleeding slowed, but the exhaustion remained. With nothing left to do but wait, he leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping his body would recover enough to keep moving.
The forest around him was beautiful, deceptively so. Crystal-clear streams meandered through the underbrush, and the dense canopy of leaves above cast a soft, green light across the landscape. But William knew better than to let the beauty fool him. This place was far more treacherous than the dark, oppressive mines he had journeyed through before. In the mines, danger was constant but predictable—here, it lurked behind every tree, in every shadow, masked by the peaceful surroundings. He had to stay sharp.
"It's been a tough journey," William muttered to himself, surveying the treacherous path ahead. His mind drifted to the rumors he'd heard about a magical grocery store hidden somewhere in this forest, and the thought alone was enough to steel his resolve.
"If I can't find that store soon, I'm turning back," he decided. He wasn't willing to die out here for nothing. But something about the journey, about the mystery of the forest, pushed him forward, despite the danger.
After a short rest, William stood and continued onward. The forest floor was thick with fallen leaves, creating a soft, muffled sound as he moved. The atmosphere shifted as he pressed on, the trees thinning out to reveal a hillside covered in a kaleidoscope of flowers. The blooms stretched in every direction, their vibrant petals forming a breathtaking sea of color. A light mist hung in the air, giving the scene an ethereal quality, as though the hillside existed in a dream.
And at the top of the hill, nestled between the flowers, was a building. William could barely make it out through the mist, but there was no mistaking it, a colorful structure rose in the distance. His heart quickened. This had to be it.
Suddenly, his fatigue lifted. He was now nearly 70% recovered, his combat strength slowly returning. With renewed energy, he climbed the hillside, stepping carefully through the flowers, the mist swirling around his legs.
The building came into full view: a three-story Western-style mansion, unlike anything William had ever seen. It stood three feet off the ground, as though floating, with elegant white wooden stairs leading up to the entrance. Though not massive, the mansion was undeniably refined, with its colorful façade and a tall, golden spire at its peak. White walls gleamed in the soft light, partially covered by ivy that had woven itself through the structure, its deep green leaves adding a sense of life to the building.
The entire scene looked like it had been plucked from a painting, the thick brushstrokes of color so vivid and striking that it almost felt unreal.
[Map Tip: You have arrived at the Magical House.]
William stood before the mansion, taking it all in. He had found it.
William stood there, utterly speechless. This was the grocery store? He had imagined something much simpler; maybe a small shop with wooden shelves and a few modest goods, like the kind you'd find at the entrance to a quiet village. But this? This was nothing like what he had expected.
Before him stood a grand, western-style mansion surrounded by vibrant flowers. It looked more like a boutique villa than any kind of store. The colors alone screamed that the owner had a flair for the extravagant. The entire place seemed to flaunt its charm and eccentricity, clearly designed by someone who loved attention.
As William approached the mansion, he couldn't help but wonder how to even get inside. For all its beauty, it wasn't immediately obvious where the entrance was. After a bit of searching and standing awkwardly in front of the intricately carved white oak door, he raised his hand to knock.
But just as his fist moved forward, it hit nothing but air.
The door, crafted from white oak and embellished with intricate designs, suddenly came to life. "Welcome!" it chimed in a smooth, polite tone, and swung open on its own, revealing a spotless wooden floor that stretched deep into the interior.
William paused, lowering his hand slowly. Just an automatic sensor door. He shrugged, though inwardly he couldn't help but be impressed. Pretty fancy for a grocery store.
With a casual swagger, he strode in, gripping his spear loosely, ready for anything. The inside was just as unique as the outside. Two distinct styles of decor divided the space. On the left side, the dim lighting and curved counter gave off a cozy, home bar vibe, perfect for late-night drinks and quiet conversations. On the right, sunlight poured in through large, clean windows, illuminating a serene space with neatly arranged tables. A white round table on the balcony, surrounded by vine-woven chairs, radiated simple elegance.
As William took it all in, the sudden sound of frantic flapping wings echoed through the room.
"Calcifer! Calcifer!" a shrill voice called out, almost as if it was on the verge of bursting. William turned his head toward the noise, and there, perched on a bird stand, was a large owl, hooting with a desperation that was borderline comical. "Hurry up and get up! Come out to receive the guests! Come out, I say!"
Before William could even process what was happening, the sharp clatter of footsteps echoed from the stairs. Someone was coming down in a hurry. "Stop yelling! I'm awake," came a smooth, elegant male voice. "How many times have I told you, I'm not receiving guests right now!"
The owl, not the least bit deterred, squawked back indignantly, "The door opened! Not my fault!"
At that moment, the oak door chimed in with a rather haughty tone. "He tried to knock on me. I couldn't just let him soil my surface. Only Lord Calcifer has the right to touch me in this world."
William blinked in disbelief, now staring at the door as if it had grown a second head. This door has an attitude.
It dawned on him that if any thief ever came here, there'd be no need to break in or pick the lock. The mansion would practically roll out the red carpet for them, as long as they were polite enough to try and knock.
Suddenly, a new prompt appeared before William's eyes.
[Hint: You have encountered Calcifer]
Descending the stairs was a young man, who could only be described as ethereal. His delicate blond hair shimmered under the light, and he wore a flowing silver-blue magic robe that seemed to catch the air with every step. His sleeves billowed out, embroidered with ruffles, making him look even more graceful than any movie star or male model William had ever seen. He wasn't just walking; he was gliding, as if his feet barely touched the ground.
"Look," Calcifer began, his voice arriving even before he did, "you can just leave, alright? Say you didn't see me, or say I refused. Either way, I'm not going into the abyss. My life's already tangled in enough messes, and I'm not dealing with the king's problems now—" He stopped mid-sentence, finally noticing William standing there. His eyes widened, and his whole demeanor shifted.
"Uh... who are you?" Calcifer asked, clearly confused.
William stood there, equally puzzled, feeling the weight of the awkward silence that followed. "?"