For a moment, Daniel stood still inside the Hall of Trials and looked at the statue of Kel’Tharia. He wanted to curse her for placing down such a difficult trial, for attracting the attention of a foreign eldritch being, however, no words came to mind. At the end of the day, she had saved him from falling into temptation. In her eyes, he saw the desire to protect her students clear as day.

Ritual of Sanctity (Rare)

Lay a claim to a soul’s domain. The wielder can conduct a ritual, covering a designated area. Every soul that enters the area shall be pulled to the wielder’s underworld, no matter the distance between the two. Only one such ritual may be active.

The skill description didn’t reveal anything new. Unlike the world of the Vael, rogue spirits here were much less common. Still, anyone who died within the area would be claimed by him, so it was not completely useless. The only real problem was getting the ingredients for the ritual, which could wait until he returned to the city.

When he returned to the real world, everything was as he had left it. The pale moon’s rays fell through the cracks in the barn’s roof, illuminating the wood floor below. Strange how he could have a life-changing adventure one moment, and the next, he would come back to tranquillity, the night not even halfway done.

It was tough to fall asleep despite his exhaustion. Every time he closed his eyes, the darkness would remind him of the Vael. Even the beautiful and serene moon above reminded him of Morvina. The wounds left by them both would not heal easily.

A brief moment passed between him closing his eyes and the obnoxious screech of a dragon rooster. It was morning already. The annoying creature’s voice had a slight growl to it - the mark of supposed dragon blood. He highly doubted that the magnificent creatures would ever regress that far. Daniel groaned, a headache tearing through his skull as he sat up. It was as if someone had decided to use a saw and merrily hack away at his every thought.

Still, the day waited for no one, and soon enough, he was very politely tossed out of the barn by a loving farming couple. Daniel weaselled his way into having a proper breakfast - preserved rations did miracles in making sure he never wanted to camp outside a proper village again.

In a way, the kind of simplistic life appealed to him. Work in the fields, gain levels every few months, and live your life in relative peace. Alas, he was a city boy at heart, and even if his new city didn’t have magnificent skyscrapers or neon billboards, it still called to him.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, he was already galloping out of the village in search of a new adventure. Previously, he had not dared to go faster than a trot, but the more he rode his horse, the more comfortable he became. In a way, it was like riding a really responsive motorcycle, but instead of steering with the handles, he did so using mana.

On the other hand, it only had a limited amount of mana. Daniel had to frequently stop and refill it or it would turn back into a puppet. If it did so, he could say goodbye to a pleasant journey. With all that in mind, the pace he kept was much, much faster than yesterday.

In just an hour, he reached the area where the plains slowly turned into a bog, at which point his speed significantly decreased. It was a game of properly navigating his steel horse, as a single wrong step into a deceptively deep puddle could send him flying through the air.

The Myst Bog was aptly named, or so Daniel concluded after another half an hour. Here, a thick, pine-green mist hovered just above the ground, carrying a noxiously sweet scent. It reminded him of every candy he had ever eaten. Each breath would carry with it the crisp taste of mint, bringing back forgotten memories of his childhood.

Evergreen trees rose in the distance, each carrying a glowing orb at its peak. He wisely chose to avoid them after seeing the orb unleash a tidal wave onto an unsuspecting muskrat, which yelled in horrible agony as its flesh melted in the green-tinged water. All of a sudden, the bog took a more ominous turn.

That’s when he started to notice the overwhelming number of insects in the area. A swarm of mosquitoes drained the blood out of an elongated bobcat in mere seconds, and a nearby caterpillar the size of his arm devoured a firefly before proceeding to get ambushed by a venus flytrap the size of a house. It was like someone had taken the worst aspects of bogs and magnified them.

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Daniel let out a sigh of relief when he spotted a carved wooden arrow nailed on a dead tree, pointing to the right. Dodging past a swarm of will-o-wisps burning ominously with white flame, he followed the arrows until he stepped on a footbridge, which creaked under the combined weight of the two.

The journey across the footbridge could even be considered fun if he ignored the constant buzzing of insects, croaking of toads, and the sounds of shrill-voiced birds, doing their best to attract a mate. Even the bustling city didn’t get as loud as this. He was all for seeing magical locations, but it was like the bog was conspiring to make his experience as miserable as possible.

The spotting of the witch hut was followed by a yell of excitement and the heavy thud of hooves smashing through the wood. The house was carved into a living tree, half of it marred red, bleeding sap into the ground, and pulsing like an infection. Almost the entirety of it was covered in the mist, which seeped into the ancient, decrepit wood, struggling to keep it alive.

Stepping off of his horse, he went to knock on the door, only to find it already swinging open. Three branches hung above the entryway, and from each drooped a different dream catcher, similar to those Daniel saw in the village.

“I sense someone snooping. A little mouse hung up by three strings. Come on in,” a hoarse and stringy voice came from further inside the home.

Tentatively, he walked through the door and observed the interior. In a way, it was everything he expected. Messy shelves housed preserved various eyeballs, brains, taxidermied animals, and other strange curiosities. A bubbling metal cauldron sat above a crackling fireplace, a viscous liquid bubbling inside of it. It smelled like death itself, which almost made Daniel hurl his breakfast onto the floor.

There, next to a drying rack full of herbs, stood a hunched figure. The witch was by far the ugliest creature he had ever seen. Her deeply wrinkled face sagged to reveal flesh riddled with warts, pimples, and zits. They only marked half of her face - the other half was covered in burn marks, which swelled unnaturally, resembling a toad’s belly. Her hair - long and grey and greasy - hung down to her waist, tangled like a massive cobweb.

However, her eyes told a completely different story. Although Daniel could see traces of cynicism and melancholy, they also reminded him of a child’s eyes, looking at everything in the world with a trace of wonder.

“Priest of Morvina travels to me on a metal horse with haste in his steps. Begone, my time has yet to come! I shall live an eternity more!” she cackled, and upon seeing how tense Daniel had become, she continued. “A joke. Unless?”

He forced himself to laugh along with her, brushing off the previous words as her being a bit eccentric. Had he come in a different outfit, they might have been true.

“One of the villagers told me that you know everything that happens around these parts. Is that true?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Who? Me? An innocent old woman? No, you surely jest. Ah, but then again, birds love to come and talk to me about what they’ve seen. Awfully chatty, those ones,” she grinned and walked over to the bubbling cauldron.

“Bitter, like medicine is supposed to be,” she said, grimacing as she tasted the brew.

“An old woman? I only see a young, beautiful madam standing before me,” he said, bowing to her in hopes that she wouldn’t ask for his firstborn son.

“Aha, then your eyes must be true. It seems I’ve not yet lost my charm.”

“I’ve got a small request to ask of you. Have you by chance happened to see a marching band of warriors come through this area about five or six years ago?” he asked.

“Seeking those lot, are you? If I were you, I’d turn back and go my merry way. Asked me for a cure they did. Promised to brew one even though I knew there’d be trouble. A plague descended on my poor little home that very same night. Been five years and I still can’t cure whatever is making my tree ill.”

Daniel followed her gaze, looking at the streaks of red slowly spreading. He let out a heavy sigh. In theory, there was still a chance to turn back. In practice, if he ever wanted Xaviar’s help, he had to continue.

“I understand. Where are they now?”

“Aha, you’re not a particularly bright priest, are you? Or maybe you’re a tad bit too brave. Regardless, you shan’t get this information out of me for free.”

And there it was. This was what he had feared.

“It’s a simple request. Provided you live past tomorrow, return back to me and pick up this box. I have an old friend in the city who I haven’t seen in a while by the name of Melissa. You’re to deliver it to her.”

She pulled out a simple, brown box the size of his hand, wrapped tightly by a blue vine. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to kiss a frog or sacrifice an infant.

“No problems with that,” he responded.

“Wonderful! Now, listen closely. Head north past the wretched bog until you see a tree bearing lightning’s mark. Face toward the east and follow the winding river along the hills. There, you shall see a valley flanked by great rocks. What you seek lay beyond a powerful glamour, one which you must overcome yourself.”