Seizing the moment when the monsters recoiled in fear of the magical fire in his hand, Grimm strode swiftly out of the path. He knelt at the base of a murderous tree, clearing away its soil and using the fire to drive back its gnarled roots. Only then did he unearth the materials he needed to harvest today.
Nestled among the tangled roots and the gleaming human bones were thumb-sized, bulbous rhizomes—some white, some red, others purple. Grimm suppressed his revulsion and carefully picked three of the purple ones with his small knife, placing them gingerly into his pouch before retreating quickly back onto the path.
There was no choice; this task was mandatory as part of his patrol. Otherwise, nothing could compel him to step off the path. Despite his swift actions, the dispersed monsters had already begun regrouping, and the vampiric vines parasitizing the murderous tree were descending once more.
A moment’s delay would have forced him into a deadly struggle for survival. Relying on elemental vision, he had located the tree bearing mature rhizomes amidst the grove of murderous trees. Normally, such precision required multiple trips in and out of the path, drastically increasing the risk with each incursion.
After walking another two hundred meters down the eerie path, he left the murderous trees’ domain. Before him loomed a terrifying ghoul tree, its branches and vines dangling like sentient tendrils, writhing incessantly.
Grimm pulled out his magical talisman, a token of his identity, from around his neck and softly recited the incantation every apprentice must memorize.
“Muhantoria Xinro.”
As the incantation concluded, an intangible and enigmatic force erupted from the black cruciform talisman, sweeping across the surrounding space. A sharp alert rang in Grimm’s mind:
“Anomalous energy field detected. Chip functions disrupted.”
The voice of his chip weakened rapidly, dissolving into static before fading altogether. Grimm paid it no mind, raising the talisman high as he strode forward. The ghoul tree’s tendrils recoiled and retreated as he approached, reluctantly revealing a barren and desolate path.
After surveying the territories of the murderous trees and vampiric vines, Grimm prepared to enter the domain of the infant fiends—a place that filled him with an uncontrollable dread.
Beyond the ghoul tree lay the Whispering Garden, a sanctuary for malevolent creatures. On both sides of the narrow trail stretched abandoned flowerbeds and desolate gardens, shrouded in gray decay and teeming with grotesque monsters. The peculiar climate of the magical marshland turned this area into a haven for twisted entities like infant fiends, dryads, and flower spirits, all driven by insatiable appetites.
Every living intruder was eventually overcome by the relentless malice and illusions, their bodies and souls consumed as sustenance for the eerie plants thriving in this forsaken land.
Clusters of man-faced mushrooms lined the path, clasping hands as they sang cheerful songs, warmly inviting Grimm to join them. These peculiar creatures resembled small mushrooms with humanoid arms and legs, their caps patterned like human faces.
Though each mushroom barely reached the height of a child’s shin, their collective laughter and dancing sent a chilling shiver through Grimm’s body.
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“Warning: Anomalous field detected. Immediate retreat advised.”
Grimm stepped back hastily, and only after distancing himself from the mushrooms did the chilling sensation subside. Despite their cute appearance, the man-faced mushrooms were carnivorous monsters, even devouring the souls of their prey. Though each individual had only weak hallucinogenic powers, their communal nature made them formidable.
In large numbers, they could create mirage-like illusion fields, trapping victims in blissful hallucinations. By the time the mushrooms feasted on their prey, the latter remained unaware, smiling serenely in their delusions.
For full-fledged wizards, these mushrooms were excellent alchemical materials. But for apprentices like Grimm, each patrol through their territory was a life-threatening ordeal.
Should Grimm succumb to their illusions and wander into their flowerbeds, the mushrooms could feast on him without breaking their contractual boundaries.
Facing the sinister creatures crowding toward him with deceptive glee, Grimm sneered and hurled a palm-sized round stone into their midst.
A faint blue lightning bolt flashed, striking down five clustered mushrooms instantly. The rest scattered in panic, retreating into bushes, thickets, and behind trees.
Grimm quickly collected the fallen mushrooms, stuffing them into his pouch before retrieving the stone and retreating to the path. The "lightning stone," purchased at a steep price from another apprentice, Rex, emitted forked lightning capable of dealing precise damage—ideal for harvesting fragile prey like man-faced mushrooms. His own Burning Hand spell was too destructive for such tasks.
After this demonstration, the mushrooms dared not show themselves again. Yet countless sinister gazes and hushed whispers lingered around Grimm, keeping his nerves taut.
With his task complete, Grimm hurried down the narrow path, leaving the mushroom field behind. He ventured further into the garden, where the infant fiends dwelled.
These creatures, shriveled and emaciated like human infants, dragged behind them peculiar appendages resembling umbilical cords. Their crawling was swift, their cries sharp and grating. Though not true infants, they were far more terrifying. Born with innate curse-like abilities, their words carried the power to alter reality through sheer malice.
Gathering in groups, their venomous curses could incapacitate even the mightiest beast. Navigating their domain required unyielding resolve and a powerful mind, lest one succumb to their relentless hatred and join the countless lost souls wandering the Whispering Garden.
Each monstrous species in the garden kept to its territory, avoiding unnecessary conflicts. Grimm clutched his talisman tightly, striding briskly through the ominous path. The sinister noises from the surrounding gardens filled the air, but he dared not pause, focusing solely on moving forward.
Before the deafening cries of the infant fiends overwhelmed him, Grimm escaped the Whispering Garden and turned onto another trail.
As an apprentice on patrol, Grimm's task was simple: monitor the magical creatures near the tower and harvest alchemical materials when necessary. Yet, this region, lying within the inner marshland, remained perilous even for those equipped with magical talismans.
Patrol duties were notorious for their high mortality rate, despite their generous rewards of knowledge points and gold coins. Many apprentices coveted such rewards but avoided these tasks, unwilling to risk their lives.
This time, Grimm had taken the counterclockwise route, traversing areas like the murderous trees, mushroom fields, and Whispering Garden. His counterpart, Tony, patrolled clockwise, facing equally perilous creatures like swamp crocodiles and parasitic queens. When the two finally reunited at the tower's rear entrance, they exchanged only brief nods before stepping inside.
There, they reported to the senior apprentice, Ankso. After handing over the harvested materials, they were granted six days of reprieve. Their talismans recorded the earned knowledge points, serving as both identification and a ledger of their progress.
For Grimm, survival in the tower demanded knowledge, skill, and unwavering determination. The magical marshland offered no mercy, even to those bold enough to tread its treacherous paths.