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Chapter 4: Journeying Together
When I bid farewell to Elegant Strings, he mentioned he would return to this plane the next day. However, it wasn’t until the sixth day in the afternoon that his name reappeared, glowing brightly in my magical journal. Based on my previous experiences with Planewalkers, their concept of time often differs greatly from mine; what they consider "a day" can span anywhere from six to seven of our days. I assumed this discrepancy stemmed from the differences between our spatial planes.
Not long after his arrival, my magical journal emitted a signal. Flipping to the "social" page where his name was inscribed, I found a small line of text beneath it:
"You're quite the early riser, logging on so soon. What level are you at now?"
This was another function of the magical journal—those who exchanged soul imprints could communicate remotely through it. This feature proved invaluable for adventurers like us, who roamed far and wide. No matter how unpredictable your movements, friends could always reach you when they missed you. Of course, the downside was equally apparent: even when you craved solitude, others could easily track you down.
I tapped on Elegant Strings' name and wrote beneath it, "Almost level nine," before sending the message.
His reply came swiftly: "WTF, that fast? How do you manage it? You’re not using some @#$% cheat, are you?"
Two phrases in these three short sentences baffled me. The first was the odd phrase "WTF," which seemed to convey astonishment, though its exact meaning eluded me. The second was the garbled "@#$% cheat," which carried an air of cunning and trickery, as if imbued with some arcane magical significance beyond my comprehension. Relying solely on the one sentence I understood, I replied:
"I completed a few quests and killed several wild dogs. Then I leveled up."
"Damn… you really OP…" Another perplexing symbol. “…Did you pick up the quest related to the Bandits of Swordtooth Mountain yet?"
"No, I was just about to."
"Perfect timing. I've gathered a few friends to tackle this quest together. With you, we'll have a full party. Hurry, we're waiting for you at the city gate."
Receiving an invitation from a friend is always a pleasure, especially when I had nothing pressing to do. Arriving at the city gate, I spotted my nearsighted elven friend waiting there alongside two men and a woman—three unfamiliar adventurers.
Though Elegant Strings strained his eyes searching for me, he remained anxious and bewildered until I stood right beside him—his poor vision clearly insufficient to distinguish me from the crowd.
"I'm here!" I knew if I didn't announce myself, even pressing my face against his nose might leave him clueless.
"Ah, you're finally here!" My sudden appearance startled him despite my approach. He enthusiastically grabbed my hand and led me to his companions, introducing them:
"He's Longbow Sunshot, a priest at level six." He gestured to the female adventurer.
She appeared to be a gentle human maiden, her long eyebrows drooping shyly as if avoiding eye contact. Her white gown, adorned with metallic threads, suited her role as a priest perfectly. Oddly, above her head where names were displayed, it read “Fei Yin.”
The maiden offered me a tender smile, extending her pale, delicate right hand to lightly grasp the inner side of Elegant Strings' right arm. Just as I presumed this was an intimate gesture laden with ambiguous affection, her thumb and forefinger suddenly tightened…
"Ow… ow…" Immediately, Elegant Strings showcased his hidden tenor talents, emitting a piercing shriek that would put the most passionate bard to shame. Most astonishingly, the girl’s fingers exhibited strength rivaling the claws of a Rabid Hound Kaplan, dealing a critical blow that instantly depleted thirty points of Elegant Strings’ health.
"What are you pointing at? Recognize who I am before you speak! Mistaking a gentle, beautiful lady like me for that deranged killer is unforgivable, utterly hopeless…" The pretty girl continued to pinch Elegant Strings’ arm while stomping on his toes with her dainty boots, still grumbling angrily. Such a "gentle and beautiful" "lady" was truly a sight to behold. After a while, the mage released her grip, then rubbed her fingers meaningfully, addressing the tearful elf ranger:
"To ensure you remember this lesson, buy me the Emerald Star ring next time."
"It wasn’t intentional; I just couldn’t see clearly. Have mercy! That thing costs three gold coins—I’d have to sell everything I own…" Elegant Strings pleaded with a sorrowful face.
"I’m still missing a sapphire necklace that replenishes mana…" The girl ignored his plea, playing with the pendant around her neck while giving Elegant Strings a sidelong glance.
My elven friend made a remarkably wise decision. Straightening his chest, he declared with knightly valor:
"It would be my honor to serve you. Tomorrow, I’ll adorn the most beautiful Lady Fei Yin with the Emerald Star!"
His face bore an expression of tragic resolve, akin to a martyr marching bravely to his death.
Satisfied with his response, the girl smiled contentedly. Suddenly, she turned to me. In that instant, an incredible transformation overtook her: the fierce, intimidating demeanor vanished, replaced by a serene gentleness. A blush crept across her cheeks, and her long lashes accentuated the purity of her bright eyes.
I never imagined someone's expression could change so drastically in such a short time. Though her features remained unchanged, her entire aura shifted as if she were a completely different person. Most unbelievably, she transitioned from a ruthless creditor to an adorable girl with just a single smile.
"He mistook me… I’m Fei Yin…" she whispered shyly, her voice as crisp and gentle as a seven-string harp, “…a level ten mage. He’s Longbow Sunshot…” She pointed to the sturdy dwarf beside her, who visibly shuddered at her gesture.
At this moment, the orc standing beside us introduced himself without waiting, "I’m Long Triangle, an eight-level rogue."
In my mind, rogues were typically slender and agile figures who preferred lurking in shadows, swiftly cutting throats from behind. However, Long Triangle shattered that perception entirely. To clarify, his name held no significance—this guy was neither "long" nor "triangular." If you ignored his limbs, his basic shape consisted of two intersecting spheres—his neck practically negligible. You get the picture—he was fat, exceedingly so. His round, resilient belly bounced as he walked, rippling with soft waves of flesh. Trust me, if he wanted to see his toes, he’d need extraordinary effort.
Such a physique might look impressive wielding twin axes and charging into battle, but as a rogue…
Perhaps noticing the confusion in my eyes, the "broad" orc promptly drew a dagger—the quintessential rogue weapon—from his waist, executing a deft trick with it. Patting his belly somewhat awkwardly, he explained, "Haven’t exercised in a while; my figure's gone a bit out of shape. But I really am a rogue…"
The dagger appeared sharp, its edge gleaming with dangerous cruelty. Yet, in Long Triangle’s hands, it seemed oddly mismatched—I doubted even if this oversized rogue stripped naked, the dagger could penetrate his belly’s defenses to inflict any real harm.
Swordtooth Mountain was the highest and most treacherous peak near Kampnavia. Below it, dense jungles teemed with beasts—whether "Crimson Mane Hyenas," "Mountain Wolves," or "Bloodsucking Red Bats" with wingspans as wide as three or four humans—all were generally one or two levels higher than their counterparts elsewhere, ranging from level eight to ten. Moreover, they lived densely packed in groups, significantly impeding our progress—not entirely due to combat:
"Elegant Strings, skin this bat… Do as I say and skin it, along with the scraps, wings, and nails… These are money, every bit counts… Ah, iron ore! Long Triangle, dig out that ore, yes, all of it, including the stone… Sunshot, Sunshot! Grab those wolf eyeballs, what? Your backpack’s full? Let me take them? Let a delicate girl carry such gruesome things—don’t you know shame? Hand over your bag… Oh dear, throw all this away… I know these are quest items, just redo the quest later. Every grain of rice should remind us of its hard-earned value… Ah, sagebrush, look at all these herbs, damn it, why isn’t anyone studying alchemy? This is all money…”
As you can see, the mage Fei Yin had an extraordinary obsession with anything that could be sold for currency. After each battle, she combed the battlefield meticulously, taking every possible loot—even worthless items like animal nails. Any battlefield she swept was left barren, corpses decomposing faster because little remained to rot.
"Another pack of wolves, what do we do?" Long Triangle pointed to the bushes ahead. These wolves weren’t blocking our path; bypassing them wouldn’t alert them.
Fei Yin glanced at the wolves, her face showing indecision. To her, these massive, ferocious beasts equated to piles of clawed and furred gold coins—it pained her to let them go. However, everyone’s pockets were already two-thirds full before we even started uphill. At this rate, more valuable loot from the bandits might have nowhere to go. Waste time or waste money? For the magically inclined miser, this was a difficult choice.
"What’s with all the dilly-dallying? Kill them first, talk later!" As Fei Yin hesitated, another among us charged out impatiently. His crude, unrestrained language and raspy, reckless voice signaled our priest had gone berserk again.
If mage Fei Yin was merely obsessed with currency conversion and retained basic rational judgment on non-monetary matters, then the dwarf named Longbow Sunshot was utterly hopeless—a "deranged killer," according to Fei Yin. He was a quintessential violence worshipper, bloodthirsty maniac, and necrophiliac, harboring an uncontrollable fervor for slaughter deep within his veins. He possessed immense potential to become an exceptional warrior, refusing to regain sanity while any opponent still lived. Even the fiercest magic beasts would feel ashamed before his formidable prowess. As for his priestly profession—it was pure irony: who ever saw a priest wielding a staff and charging into battle?
Longbow Sunshot’s weapon deserved special mention. During our first encounter, I stood conventionally with shield raised before him and Fei Yin. Unexpectedly, he darted past my beltline, confronting an eight-level hyena. In his hand was a short staff, roughly the length of my forearm—though it appeared longer in dwarf hands. Just as I thought he’d pay dearly for this foolish move, his astonishing action left me breathless…
He grabbed both ends of the staff, pulling it apart to reveal a chain connecting the halves. Swiftly gripping one end, he swung it rhythmically, chanting something indistinct yet rhythmic, “Use the nunchaku, hmm haa…” The iron-clad other end struck the hyena’s jaw heavily, leaving it dazed.
The opportunistic dwarf priest relentlessly pursued the hyena, twirling the two-part staff around his hands, elbows, and waist with acrobatic flair. Only the blur of sticks was visible, enveloping him like a light curtain, accompanied by his incessant "hmm haa…" cries, creating an oddly mesmerizing display of violent beauty.
A priest clad in cloth armor wielding short sticks subdued four seven-to-eight-level hyenas in close combat, while I, armed with a sword, struggled with two. The disparity left me disheartened. Later, Elegant Strings informed me that Longbow Sunshot’s secondary occupation was weaponsmithing. The peculiar staff, dubbed "nunchaku," was his proud creation. Initially a failed prototype, he ingeniously added a chain between the broken halves, successfully crafting it.
This uniquely shaped staff was a genuine weapon, with heavy iron tips adding 3 attack power and superior speed compared to other weapons. Strangely, this seemingly simple stick—resembling a firewood stick when combined and two when separated—somehow qualified as a "staff," offering no magical enhancements.
Most astonishing was Longbow Sunshot’s self-taught magical skill unveiled in battle—a frenzied dance called "Jeet Kune Do." This seemingly martial art “magic” created a shield-like effect, reflecting 50% of melee attacks and having a 20% chance to triple physical damage to surrounding enemies. It consumed genuine mana—rapidly.
Now, Longbow Sunshot charged into the midst of the "Mountain Wolves," unleashing his passionate magic. We had no choice but to follow him into the fray. Despite his inexplicable zeal for battle, he hadn’t entirely lost his mind. On rare occasions, he remembered his duties as a "priest," inadvertently using his dwindling mana to heal teammates’ dried-up vitality—but always after I’d downed a health potion.
Though our party numbered five, usually only four were visible in battle, the fifth being the overweight rogue Long Triangle.
Yes, I mean "disappear." Rogues possess an enviable skill: "Stealth." This ability allows them to vanish from sight, unseen by enemies. It’s not magic but a special technique allegedly finding blind spots in opponents’ vision and remaining hidden until striking.
I couldn’t fathom how Long Triangle managed this. Logically, hiding half his body in a blind spot would expose the other half. Yet, amid our charge into the wolf pack, his broad figure disappeared under the afternoon shade.
Despite his comical bulk, Long Triangle had a natural talent for being a rogue. Even in peacetime, his behavior was furtive: preferring dark shadows, avoiding sunlight, skirting edges of roads, trees, or rocks with small, quick steps, occasionally tossing stones ahead as if testing for traps.
In battle, Long Triangle excelled further. Even without stealth, his movements were erratic, like a bloated phantom slipping through chaos with "lecherous" positioning, seizing opportunities to strike cheap blows. He was the nimblest fat man and the most despicable fellow I’d ever seen.
This wasn’t sarcasm—for a rogue in battle, "despicable" was the highest praise.
Long Triangle showed me his dagger but rarely used this sinister left-hand weapon. More often, he preferred solving problems with a hammer in his right hand. A conservative opportunist, I never saw him face any beast head-on. He always emerged menacingly from behind, delivering a stunning blow to disorient the enemy. Only when the opponent neared death did he cruelly slit their throat with his dagger, delivering the final strike.
Contrasting sharply with Longbow Sunshot, Long Triangle remained calm. He quickly assessed adversaries, targeting the strongest, sneaking behind to incapacitate them, easing our defensive pressure—especially mine. His focused killing method simplified and enhanced our battles.
Thus, under Fei Yin’s leadership, we scattered the last beasts, skinned the final hide, pulled the last tooth, and scraped the last oily patch of ground. Finally, the path up the mountain lay before us.
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