Chapter 16 – The Mission Begins

Punk found a small inn to stay in, though this clearly affected the inn’s business. When guests saw a mage checking in, they all chose to leave one after another. The innkeeper maintained a “forced smile” while attending to Punk—facing a powerful stranger of an extraordinary profession and feeling the pressure emanating from a higher-level soul, ordinary people instinctively feared him.

Punk paid no mind to the feelings of these ordinary folk and calmly entered his room.

Looking at the peeling wallpaper and greasy bedding, Punk’s keen hearing also picked up the squeaking of mice. He couldn’t help but shrug. “Other transmigrators are all focused on saving or destroying the world. None of them have to scrimp and save like I do.” Punk sighed to himself. He wasn’t spending extravagantly because, aside from a one-time Apprentice Rank knowledge purchase qualification, the Mage Guild mission offered no monetary reward. Punk still remembered the Old Mage telling him, “Knowledge is priceless. Where else can you find an organization as generous as the Mage Guild in sharing knowledge?”

In truth, Punk knew the Old Mage was right. Many mage organizations, like the “Zhentarim¹,” not only required rigorous tests to join but also made knowledge exchange no easier than “purchasing” from the Mage Guild. Punk also understood why practitioners all hoped to find a mentor—not just for guidance, but because relying on oneself to “buy” cultivation knowledge was too arduous and slow.

Punk felt that once his cultivation path was on track, he would need to consider finding a mentor. After all, even with his Ancient Elves lineage granting him a very long lifespan, endlessly taking on missions—on one hand, no amount of time should be wasted like this, and on the other, it was far too dangerous.

But for now, stuck in an “economic crisis,” Punk had no choice but to complete this “Undead Forest” mission first…

Punk finally decided to stop dwelling on these messy matters. He resolved to buy some food, as he would set off on the mission tomorrow, which would inevitably involve days of roughing it outdoors. He should take this chance to have a proper meal. Besides, he was actually quite looking forward to trying this world’s unique delicacies.

“Deep down, I’m a foodie at heart!”

Punk sighed as he stepped out of the inn.

Under the glow of various lanterns, the streets of Konola City were quite bright. Punk noticed that the nightlife in this world’s cities was actually quite vibrant.

In a small plaza, a handsome bard was recounting tales of a war in some distant Kingdom, surrounded by many young people and children listening intently. There were also chefs grilling unidentified meat slabs on large racks, with billowing heat swirling around them. Of course, there was no shortage of Noble carriages speeding by, completely disregarding the stalls whose goods were knocked over in their wake.Punk found a shop selling grilled meat, where the burly owner generously handed him a skewer to “try.” Without standing on ceremony, Punk discreetly cast a “Lesser Detect Poison” before accepting the glistening skewer. The meat was coated in a richly fragrant sauce, its skin golden and crispy—a sight that made one’s mouth water instantly.

Punk took a large bite, the juicy morsel rolling on his tongue. The smooth, satisfying texture pleased him greatly. In the end, he bought a bundle of grilled meat wrapped in thick parchment paper. Even encased in the paper, the aroma made the local canine creatures drool relentlessly. Punk decided to set aside thoughts of his mission for the day and simply enjoy the feast.

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Punk finished the grilled meat in one evening, but his mission showed no signs of nearing completion. Though he knew some divination spells that could aid in locating the “Undead Forest,” Punk felt his Apprentice Rank spells offered limited assistance. After all, the Undead Forest was a magically potent target, likely shielded by artificial means.

“Hope luck is on my side, or I’ll be touring this entire barren wasteland,” Punk sighed inwardly as he stood before the city gate. The larger sun, Chikasa, had just peeked over the horizon. He double-checked his only magical items—his Mage Robe and staff—then hoisted a large pack of provisions freshly bought from the innkeeper. With that, he set off into the Wasteland.

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Time flew during the search. Before he knew it, both suns—large and small—had set, and three moons of varying hues emerged in the night sky (Faerûn has three moons: the Indigo Moon—Garr, the Windy Moon—Tor, and the Cybernetic Moon—Eye of Dolash). By now, Punk was far from Konola City, standing under a gnarled, withered tree, frowning as he sensed the results of his… well, he’d lost count of how many detection attempts. The moonlight cast his figure in an eerie, sinister glow.

Previously, his detections for “paths, directions, the Undead Forest” had yielded chaotic messages like “direction deviated,” “something moving,” or “southern fruit trees bear no fruit.” But this time… he gleaned something different: “Someone usable lies in the direction of Tor’s return.”

Punk stroked his chin in thought. “The Windy Moon—Tor’s return probably means its rise (Faerûn’s moons and suns revolve around the Faerûn Plane). And ‘someone usable’—does that mean they’re connected to the Undead Forest? Or that they can aid me?” Ultimately, he decided to follow the divination’s clue. He sensed no danger in the message, and wandering aimlessly across the Aegma Barren Wasteland could keep him lost indefinitely!Punk cast Night Vision on himself and looked up at the moon. Due to the gloomy weather, aside from the mysterious Eye of Dolash remaining bright and prominent, Thor and Kar were both obscured by thick clouds, leaving only faint glimmers flickering in the night sky.

“Looks like it might rain with this weather…”, Punk adjusted the brim of his robe hood, allowing the shadow to cover most of his face, then headed north—the direction where Thor rises.

In the dark and silent wasteland, the dew from the lush wild grass of the tender season soaked his leather boots. After walking for two hours, Punk suddenly spotted a faint light in the distance. Amid the dim and blurry night, even with Night Vision active, this point of light stood out strikingly.

Punk replenished the energy of the Minor Mage Armor on his body and approached the light.

There, he saw a young girl with glasses sitting on the grass, a campfire burning quietly on the ground. The girl wore a pure white robe, with a golden badge carved with a newborn sun on its chest. On her lap lay a neatly placed copy of Teachings of the Dawn. She seemed unaware of Punk’s arrival, her face devout as she pressed her palms together, murmuring prayers like “Thanks to the eternal Dawn” and “I pray for the salvation of radiance.”

Under the flickering light of the campfire, the girl’s beautiful face appeared both holy and gentle, lovely and kind, and yet… utterly nauseating! At least, that’s how Punk felt.

This was a devout cleric—a follower of Lathander, Lord of the Dawn.

(End of Chapter)