After EeDechi handed over a 50-gold-coin deposit, the Adventurer's Guild stepped in as notary, sealing a magic-branded contract between them. Barrett officially became EeDechi's guide, tasked with getting her safely through Mistwood to Golden Sheaf City.
The contract came with an unbreakable curse clause: if Barrett bailed on his duties and broke the deal, the 3rd Tier spell Crimson Curse would haunt him for life.
It was a bright, sunny morning in Montell City. Following Barrett's supply list, he and EeDechi split up to hit the city market and the weapon shop run by the Adventurer's Guild to stock up.
Having seen EeDechi wipe the floor with Wood, Barrett had zero doubts about her skills.
But when they met back up at noon as planned, Barrett realized, to his dismay, that his orichalcum-level elite adventurer buddy had been played for a total sucker by some shady merchant.
"This glow potion you bought…" Barrett picked up a fancy glass bottle etched with an owl design, filled to the brim with what looked like deep blue potion.
He unscrewed the cap and poured it all into another clear vial. The liquid turned out to be a weak, pale blue—while the fancy owl bottle itself stayed dark blue.
"You got ripped off! This glass bottle's just dyed dark blue—the glow potion inside is cheap, pale blue junk." Barrett shook his head, then grabbed a bundle of steel wire, yanking it hard. The whole thing fell apart in a mess.
"This twisted wire's fake too. And this healing potion's green? Total scam! This steel dagger's just magic-plated crap, and this glowstone, and this… and this… and this…"
Barrett kept going, tossing EeDechi's purchases out of the bag like they were trash.
EeDechi, with her oversized giant sword strapped to her back, crouched on the ground, her face beet red with embarrassment, head buried in her arms, too ashamed to even look up.
To be fair, it wasn't really her fault. Sure, our EeDechi was an orichalcum-level high-tier adventurer, but she'd only been in this world for a little over two months.
When it came to slaying high-level monsters and enemies, she totally earned her orichalcum rank. But as far as adventurer street smarts went? She probably couldn't even keep up with the lowest copper-level newbies.
Copper-level adventurers were at least born and raised in this world, natives who knew the ropes. EeDechi, though? Fresh off the boat, she spoke the language but was clueless about everything else.
Plus, the merchants in Montell all had about the same Justice Value—equally low, to be exact. EeDechi had no way to tell an honest trader from a sleazy con artist.
Barrett picked up a bottle of pale yellow vitality potion, watching the yellowish stuff inside slowly settle into a clump at the bottom, shaking his head.
He decided to school this adventurer, who outranked him by a level, on some basics: "For someone like you with zero knack for spotting fakes, steer clear of buying stuff from Gyxiya caravans. Eight out of ten Gyxiya are shady dealers, and the other two are thieves or fortune-tellers. How do you spot a Gyxiya? Look for caravans with a yellow seven-star emblem. Sure, some Gyxiya don't bother with the emblem. Then you've got to pay close attention—check if the caravan's got a fancy red-fringed canopy or if the seller's got that rolled-tongue accent from the northern City Alliance…"
Barrett went on and on, rattling off tip after tip. He realized just how much adventuring know-how he'd racked up—way too much to cram into EeDechi's head in one go. A little pride bubbled up inside him.
This orichalcum-level "elite" adventurer might be a beast in a fight, but she's still gotta sit there and take my lessons like a good student.
EeDechi stood up, steadying the giant sword strapped to her back, cleared her throat, and said, "Look, As your employer and direct supervisor, you should be mindful of how you speak to me. Otherwise, you might have a hard time navigating the bureaucratic world. As a leader, I only need to provide the general direction. The specifics, of course, are up to you to handle."
WHAT? Barrett's face twisted in confusion. EeDechi's little speech went half over his head, but the way she talked and carried herself? It kinda reminded him of the fancy nobles in Montell.
"So, oh great leader, any instructions for us crossing Mistwood?" Barrett asked, chuckling to himself inside.
"My instruction is that we need to get through Mistwood. Got it?" EeDeChi said without a hint of embarrassment.
"Got it, leader," Barrett replied, secretly rolling his eyes. What kind of instruction was that? Total no-brainer.
Still, her words jogged his memory—EeDechi was shelling out 150 gold coins for him. For the sake of that cash, he didn't push the point.
Clearly, EeDechi wasn't about to turn into a pro at sniffing out scams anytime soon. So Barrett took over all the supply shopping, leaving EeDechi to just tag along and stuff the goods into her spatial ring.
Barrett had a spatial leather bag of his own, but it was tiny—barely held a few cubic feet. Compared to the near-hundred-cubic-foot storage of a spatial ring, it was a joke.
With the seasoned elite adventurer Barrett handling everything, they quickly got all the supplies for Mistwood squared away. Food, clean magic-distilled water, healing potions, vitality potions, short-term magic-charged lanterns, and a full set of weapons and gear—everything was good to go.
EeDechi bought herself a thermos etched with a 2nd Tier "Total Insulation" spell, then steeped some lycium chinense and dried chrysanthemums inside it.
Barrett asked if she was brewing a magic potion. EeDechi told him it was "health preservation"—a drink that could stretch out a human's lifespan.
Barrett had no clue what "health preservation" meant, but the idea of living longer sold him. He decided he'd grab a thermos and copy her sometime.
Time flew by in a whirlwind of prep. On the second morning, with the dawn stars still twinkling faintly, EeDechi and Barrett cut through the adventurer campsite outside the forest—still snoozing away—and stepped onto a rugged trail worn down by decades of adventurer boots. They entered Mistwood.
Barrett explained that the white mist in Mistwood was like the earth itself breathing. In the morning and at noon, Mistwood "inhaled," and the hazy white fog swirling everywhere thinned out to its lightest.
But come evening or deep night, Mistwood "exhaled." Then, clumps of white mist would pop up from who-knows-where, filling every inch of the forest like a thick veil had smothered the whole place.
Of course, the timing and length of Mistwood's "exhales" and "inhales" shifted with the seasons and weather. Seasoned adventurers knew how to time it just right, slipping into Mistwood when the fog was thinnest.
From Barrett's experience, the sweet spot today was the moment the sun popped over the horizon—light fog, good light. But he didn't want to run into any familiar adventurer buddies who'd razz him with his new nicknames—"Buff Eunuch" or "Imperial Chief Eunuch"—so he set out early instead.
So far, everything was smooth sailing. Barrett was a pro, after all, having crossed Mistwood nearly sixty times. Moving through it was as easy as chowing down or chugging water. He took the lead, guiding EeDechi with ease, dodging frost wolf dens, steering clear of pits hidden under rotten leaves, and sidestepping beast traps set by human adventurers.
They kept pushing deeper, the weed-choked trail underfoot getting narrower until it vanished completely.
Every few dozen steps, Barrett paused to get his bearings, hacking away at stray branches and chest-high thorny brambles with his machete. Behind him, EeDechi stumbled over grass clumps every four or five steps, so Barrett put in extra elbow grease to clear the way, hoping his boss could pick up the pace.
Looking up through the treetops, the sky had gone totally dark—or maybe there was no sky left to see.
With no one around to chop them down, every tree in Mistwood grew wild and free, thick enough for two people to wrap their arms around. The dense canopy hogged all the sunlight, branches and leaves fighting for every ray, leaving not a speck of light for the ground below.
This was old news to an elite adventurer like Barrett. He'd already pulled out a magic-charged lantern, its glow cutting through the gloom. EeDechi trailed close behind, her hair a tangled mess from brushing against branches.
After trekking for a good long while, the veteran adventurer fished out a silver pocket watch to check the time. Mistwood's "exhale" was coming up, and so was the annoying night. They stopped, hunting for a dry spot to set up camp and crash for the evening.
No luck—everything around was damp and mushy, covered in centuries of rotting leaves teeming with all sorts of tiny critters. No decent campsite in sight.
But that didn't faze Barrett. He'd picked up treehouse-building tricks in the Elf Country down in southern Slane Theocracy. Once, an elf adventurer buddy said his treehouse outdid anything a ten-year-old wood elf could whip up. Barrett never figured out if that was a jab or a compliment.
He didn't get the chance to ask either—later on, that elf pal got gulped down by a full-grown red dragon.
…
EeDechi and Barrett teamed up at first, but after EeDechi accidentally toppled a third perfectly good oak, Barrett went solo. He rigged up two simple but sturdy tree shelters among the branches.
At first, Barrett wondered if EeDechi was pulling a fast one to dodge work, but after watching her closely, he was sure: this girl, stronger than an ogre and quirky as hell, wasn't the type to play sneaky games.
So EeDechi just kicked back on a fallen trunk, sipping her "health preservation" potion from her magic thermos now and then, watching Barrett swing his axe and do all the heavy lifting.