Chapter 6: Beasts, Bows, and Unexpected Guests

There's a old saying, “The world is full of unknowns,” which is a poetic way of admitting they don’t know much either. And Here, Stepping into a mountain forest brimming with beasts isn’t just embracing the unknown—it’s hugging it, shaking its hand, and inviting it over for tea. Still, life doesn’t move forward without risks, and I figured if the worst came to pass, at least my obituary would read: Eaten while exploring the mysteries of another world.

The day began innocently enough. After the triumph of decorating my tavern, I woke up feeling rather invincible. The kind of invincible that only comes after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast. As I munched on a simple meal of bread and soup, a thought struck me.

The tavern needed a unique touch—something to set it apart from the mundane inns and stalls. And what better way than to serve dishes made with fresh, wild herbs? But the problem was obvious: the herbs grew in that forest.

They say courage is the ability to act in spite of fear. I say courage is what you feel before you realize how terrifying the forest really is.

To prepare, I decided to make a weapon. Yesterday,

After success in crafting, I remembered the sturdy bamboo stalks growing in my courtyard. While I was whittling down the wood for tavern decorations, I’d stumbled upon the realization that my courtyard was… alive. Not in the “oh, plants grow” kind of way but in the “hey, this tree prunes itself” sort of way.

The bamboo? It grew back overnight. The herbs? Replenished themselves like a magical pantry. It was a discovery that sent a wave of relief through me. At least I wouldn’t run out of resources anytime soon.

Still, the thought of venturing into a beast-filled forest without some form of defense didn’t sit well with me. With my maxed crafting skills and some leftover bamboo, I decided to create a bow.

Crafting a bow is no joke, but with my hands guided by a knowledge I didn’t even remember learning, it felt as natural as breathing.

First, I selected a piece of bamboo—strong, flexible, and as straight as an arrow. I carefully shaved off the outer layer with my knife, leaving a smooth, even surface. Splitting it down the middle, I shaped the stave, ensuring it had the perfect curve for tension.

Next came the string. Using fibers from one of the courtyard’s magical plants (which, thankfully, seemed to shed them willingly), I twisted them into a durable cord. Attaching it to the stave, I pulled the string back gently, testing the tension. The bow responded beautifully, the wood flexing with just the right amount of give.

Finally, I carved a few arrows—nothing fancy, just sharp tips and feathered ends. Holding the completed bow in my hands, I felt a surge of confidence.

“Not bad,” I murmured, drawing the string back experimentally. “Though if I miss, I’ll probably still make an impression—on the beasts’ sense of humor.”

With my new weapon slung over my shoulder, I stepped into the forest. It was a world unto itself, the air thick with the mingled scents of earth, moss, and blooming flowers. The trees towered above me, their branches forming a green canopy that dappled the ground with patches of sunlight.

I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer vibrancy of it all. Each step revealed new wonders: a cluster of mushrooms glowing faintly in the shade, a vine spiraling up a tree like a natural staircase, a bird with feathers so iridescent it looked like it had borrowed colors from a rainbow.

Unknowingly, my mind started naming the plants I passed. Ironwood Tree, known for its unyielding bark. Celestial Bloom, a flower used in spirit-enhancing elixirs. Frost Fern, perfect for cooling potions. The knowledge came unbidden, as if the names had always been there, waiting for me to notice them. Every plant I looked at seemed to whisper its name to me—not audibly, but as if the knowledge was already in my mind.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Still, the discovery was both thrilling and unnerving. It felt like cheating, like I’d been handed an open-book test in a world where everyone else had to study. But hey, who was I to complain?

I moved cautiously, keeping an eye out for any signs of danger. My focus shifted to the herbs that grew in abundance along the forest floor. Bending down, I examined each plant before carefully plucking the most vibrant specimens.

"That’s mint,” I murmured, crouching to examine a cluster of fragrant leaves. “Good for digestion and soothing teas.”

I moved further, spotting another plant. “Chamomile. Helps with sleep and relaxation.”

"Goldenroot", used for energy-restoring potions. "Moonshade Leaf ", a rare herb that glowed faintly in the shadows." Fiery Basil ", known for its spicy flavor and its ability to enhance stamina.

As I gathered, a thought struck me: “If plants could talk, would they complain about being plucked? Or would they see it as their destiny, fulfilling some grand cosmic purpose?”

I chuckled at the idea, shaking my head. “Philosophy aside, at least they’re not screaming.”

I was reaching for a particularly lush cluster of Silverweed when I noticed something odd—a flash of pale color beneath a nearby bush. My heart skipped a beat. For a moment, I thought it was a beast lying in wait, but as I crept closer, I realized it was a person.

It was a girl—or rather, something far beyond the ordinary idea of a girl. Calling her beautiful felt like an insult, as if the word couldn’t contain the full scope of her elegance. Her long, flowing hair was like spun black, her skin pale and flawless, and her delicate features seemed almost otherworldly. Even in her unconscious state, there was something otherworldly about her—a beauty so ethereal it felt like an insult to call her merely beautiful.

“Hey,” I said, crouching beside her. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond. Her chest rose and fell faintly, proof that she was still alive, but she showed no signs of waking.

I frowned, glancing around the forest. The idea of leaving her here didn’t sit well with me. Even if no beasts were nearby now, it was only a matter of time before one stumbled upon her.

“What do I do now?” I muttered, glancing around nervously. The forest was no place to leave someone in her condition. Beasts roamed these parts, and she wouldn’t stand a chance if one found her.

“Great,” I muttered. “First day in the forest, and I’m already playing hero.”

Carefully, I lifted her into my arms. She was surprisingly light, her frame delicate and fragile. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if I was making the right decision. But then I looked at her face—so serene, so vulnerable—and knew I couldn’t just leave her.

“Well,” I said, starting back toward the tavern, “if you wake up and bite me, I’m going to be very upset.”

Carrying an unconscious girl through a beast-infested forest was not how I had envisioned my day. Every rustle of leaves, every distant cry of a bird, set my nerves on edge. My bow was slung awkwardly over my shoulder, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice, but I prayed I wouldn’t have to use it.

The girl remained still in my arms, her breathing steady but shallow.

“Who are you?” I murmured, glancing down at her. “And why were you out here alone?”

Of course, she didn’t answer. Still, the questions lingered in my mind, mingling with the steady rhythm of my footsteps.

By the time I reached the courtyard, the sun was dipping low in the sky, painting the world in shades of gold and amber. The sight of the tavern, standing proud and welcoming amidst the greenery, brought a sense of relief.

I carried the girl inside, laying her gently on one of the wooden benches I had crafted. For a moment, I stood back, staring at her as if she might vanish the moment I looked away.

“Well,” I said finally, brushing a hand through my hair, “looks like I’ve got a guest. Let’s just hope she doesn’t expect room service.”

As night fell, I lit a lantern, its warm glow filling the tavern with a soft, comforting light. The girl remained unconscious, her face peaceful but inscrutable.

As I sat there, staring at the unconscious girl, a thought struck me. Life, much like the forest, is full of surprises. You set out looking for herbs and end up with a mysterious black-haired beauty. You think you’re alone, but the world has a way of throwing people—and challenges—into your path.

“Life’s funny that way,” I mused, leaning back. “You never know what’s waiting around the next corner. Or under the next bush, apparently. One moment you’re gathering herbs, the next you’re rescuing a mysterious girl from the forest. Makes you wonder if fate’s just having a laugh at your expense."

With that, I let out a weary sigh, the weight of the day settling over me. Tomorrow would bring new questions and challenges, but for now, I was content to simply sit and wonder. The forest outside was alive with the sounds of crickets and distant calls, a reminder that the world was vast and full of mysteries.

And here I was, caught in the middle of it all—just a man, a tavern, and a girl who might very well change everything.

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