Grand Olympia: Further Horizon - Chapter 23: Search
The trio — Jeanne, George, and Lapulapu — moved through the dense forest, their steps careful yet determined. The air was thick with the scent of earth and damp leaves, and the distant calls of birds echoed through the trees. Life thrived here, yet the three knew they couldn't afford to stop and admire it. Time was against them.
The poison still burned in their companions' bodies, and every wasted minute pushed them closer to a point of no return.
Lapulapu led the way. His experience in the wilderness guided him, his instincts sharper than either Jeanne or George could match. Every twisted root, every faint trail left by animals — he read them like words on a page.
The memories came rushing back. He remembered those days as a young warrior, trekking through forests like this with his companions, stalking prey or searching for resources. After becoming chief, those moments grew rare. His duties kept him tied to his people, his sword raised in defense rather than for the hunt. Now, despite his battered body and the poison lingering inside him, he felt something familiar — something that felt like home. His face remained hard and stoic, but inside, he quietly welcomed the feeling.
For Jeanne and George, this was unfamiliar ground. Jeanne had spent much of her life either in quiet villages or war-torn battlefields. Forests like this — wild and untamed — felt alien to her. The way the trees stretched high above, swallowing the sky in a canopy of tangled branches, made her uneasy. It felt like the forest was alive, watching them. She gripped her spear tightly, forcing herself to stay focused.
George, meanwhile, trudged forward with a soldier's determination. The wilderness wasn't his domain. His life had been spent in war rooms and under open skies, where strategy and positioning dictated victory. Here, he felt blind.
Each shadow between the trees seemed to hide a threat, each rustling branch could be something more. He kept one hand close to his modified rifle, knowing he was out of his element but refusing to let that weakness show.
Despite their unease, they trusted Lapulapu. His quiet confidence kept them moving forward. Every time Lapulapu paused — to examine a plant or study the faint signs of disturbed soil — Jeanne and George waited without question.
"This should be one," Lapulapu muttered, crouching beside a cluster of dark green leaves. He plucked a handful, shoving them carefully into a pouch.
"Are you sure?" Jeanne asked, watching him closely.
"I know this leaf," Lapulapu said firmly. "It eases swelling and fights infection. We'll need more of it."
The three pressed on, their surroundings growing darker as the forest thickened. The air turned colder, and the distant sounds of animals faded into silence. The stillness was unsettling — as if something had forced the wildlife into hiding.
"We need to move faster," George muttered. His eyes kept scanning the trees. "I don't like how quiet it's gotten."
Lapulapu didn't respond, but he felt it too — that growing tension in the air. Something was wrong. He pressed forward, quickening his pace. Jeanne and George followed, their unease growing with every step. The deeper they went, the more it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath.
The silence of the forest pressed down on George like a weight. Every crackling branch or shifting shadow made his grip on his modified rifle tighten. His eyes scanned the treeline, but his mind wandered elsewhere — pulled back to thoughts he'd been avoiding since they entered this twisted place.
"What the hell am I even doing here?"
He remembered that final moment before death — his body frail and cold, his breath shallow. Lying there, surrounded by family, he'd felt everything slipping away. His family's faces were blurred by his failing vision, their muffled sobs barely reaching his ears. He had made peace with it. A long life lived, wars fought, battles won and lost. His shoulders had carried the weight of a nation — and now they could finally rest.
But then, it appeared. That floating sphere of light — the Watcher. At first, he'd thought it was an angel, some divine figure sent to carry him off to whatever came next. The voice had been cold, emotionless, yet somehow soothing. It spoke of opportunity — a second chance at life, the promise of starting again.
"How could I say no?"
He hadn't accepted out of regret. He didn't dwell on his past mistakes or long for redemption. No, George Washington accepted the offer out of pure curiosity. The unknown had always intrigued him. A new world — unfamiliar, dangerous — that was something worth seeing. And the idea of a second life? He figured he'd make it simple this time.
No wars, no politics — just a quiet life somewhere, away from burdens and responsibility. A chance to live peacefully for himself.
But that was before he learned what this place really was. Before he realized the twisted nature of this trial. The medallions — the so-called key to surviving — were scattered in unpredictable ways. Some, like Lapulapu, earned one by the first one killing a monster in their respective rank. Others, like that fox-like face Qin Shi Huang, claimed theirs by stumbling upon a temple in the north.
According to the map that the watcher presented we were at the western quadrant, closer to the sea up north.
"It's so random…" George thought grimly. There's no pattern — just chaos. Whoever's first gets the prize. The rest get nothing.
It gnawed at him. All his life, George had believed in strategy, in discipline — that hard work and careful planning would always outmatch luck. But here?
The rules seemed different. Strength alone wouldn't be enough. Neither would clever tactics. They were all gambling — chasing after medallions that seemed to reward opportunity more than skill.
It's not just about power. It's about being in the right place at the right time…
He adjusted his rifle, scanning the shadowed forest once more. He knew there was no turning back now. The poison inside Musashi and the others wasn't going to wait. If they don't find what they need soon…
George exhaled slowly, forcing his mind to focus. One step at a time.
The forest stretched endlessly around them, an unsettling mix of beauty and dread. The air was damp, the scent of earth and leaves clinging to their clothes. Trees loomed overhead, their twisted branches like skeletal fingers scratching at the sky.
Despite the eerie stillness, the group pressed on — fatigue gnawing at their bodies, but the urgency of their mission refused to let them rest.
To break the silence, Lapulapu finally spoke. His voice, calm and steady, cut through the quiet.
"Musashi told me something strange," he began. "According to him when he first arrived here, he ran into a low-ranking monster. Killed it in an instance. But…" He paused, adjusting his grip on his sword. "He didn't get a medallion."
"That's odd," Jeanne said softly. "I know him well enough by now. That's gotta be eating him up inside."
Lapulapu nodded. "I could tell. He's holding it in, but… it's still bothering him."
"Ms. Jeanne," George added, his voice firm yet calm. "I wouldn't worry too much about Musashi. He's not the type to sit and sulk over something like that. He's tougher than most. My guess? We weren't all dropped here at the same time. Maybe someone else ran into a weak monster first, snagged a medallion before Musashi got his chance."
"Heh." Lapulapu chuckled dryly. "Talk about bad luck."
The silence returned, this time it's calmer than before. The weight of exhaustion made their steps more determined. Each crunch of leaves beneath their feet sounded too loud, each distant rustle in earnest.
Then Lapulapu broke the silence.
"I've been thinking," he said slowly. "Do you think… Someone in our group is hiding a medallion?"
George's steps slowed, and he glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"I wouldn't be surprised," he admitted. "We're all strangers. None of us knew each other before this. Wouldn't blame anyone for keeping one to themselves. Hell, I wouldn't judge them either."
Jeanne frowned. "If someone's hiding one… should we say something?"
George shook his head. "I say we let it be. If someone has one, fine — no need to stir up tension. We've already seen how easily people turn on each other when medallions are on the table." He paused. "What matters right now is that we know two medallions are accounted for — Lapulapu and the one Fu Hao earned for killing the serpent."
"Yeah," Lapulapu grunted. "And each person needs three to move on… or so we're told."
Jeanne sighed. "How do you think that works, though? Gathering all three — what happens next?"
"I figure there's two ways," Lapulapu answered. "Either you're teleported to the next floor… or you have to find some sort of pathway or gate."
Both George and Jeanne nodded — either option seemed plausible.
The three walked in silence for a while longer, their senses heightened as they weaved carefully through the woods. They avoided any signs of monsters like the plague — sticking to quieter routes and steering clear of shadowed clearings. Occasionally, they paused to gather herbs and roots — the ingredients Lapulapu swore could combat the lingering poison in their companion bodies.
They had spent some time walking when the trees finally parted, revealing something unexpected — an old structure nestled deep in the heart of the forest.
The building was worn and half-consumed by nature, vines creeping along its stone walls. Cracks snaked across its surface, and sections of the roof had caved in, exposing the skeletal monstrous remains of wooden beams. Moss clung to the edges, and faint carvings of ancient symbols were barely visible beneath centuries of dirt and grime.
"What…" George left speechless.
"It's old," Lapulapu said, his voice low. "Real old."
Jeanne stepped closer, running her fingers along the weathered stone. "Could be one of those temples Qin Shi Huang mentioned."
The three of them instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons.
The air seemed colder now, the silence heavier. The forest, for all its life, now felt mysterious. Lurking a deep secret that something might be hiding.