"You good?" A boy, maybe sixteen at most, turned to face me, casually resting a massive greatsword on his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
"I'll live," I muttered, defaulting to the same old phrase as I took a good look at my rescuer.
Long, unkempt grey hair. Crimson eyes. A face that was almost too pretty for a guy, made slightly less delicate by a scar cutting across his left cheek — just enough to add a touch of rugged charm. His clothes were solid and practical, worn in places but clearly well-made. Nothing fancy, but it gave him that perfect medieval fantasy vibe.
It took me just a couple seconds to size him up, but there was something about him that tugged at the back of my mind. Familiar somehow. A name hovered just out of reach, but my sieve of a brain refused to cooperate.
"Forest. Dangerous. You're weak. Don't go alone," he said in short, choppy phrases, like the language itself didn't quite fit in his mouth. He tilted his head, concern flickering in his gaze. "You understand me?"
"Understand-understand," I replied without thinking, mimicking his clipped speech before it even registered.
Then it hit me like a jolt of static — wait, does he even understand me?
"You go Mondstadt?" he asked, words more fluid now, though still not quite natural.
"Yeah," I exhaled, relieved.
"Forest. Many monsters. I escort." His eyes flicked toward my leg before he nodded, matter-of-fact.
So he does understand. Good enough.
Limping after him as he made his way back toward the road, I winced as the wound flared with pain. If nothing else went wrong and my healing stayed on track, I'd be right as rain by evening.
Right as rain. Or more like a cucumber — green and bumpy.
What's it like traveling with someone who bears a Vision? I didn't have an answer at first, but the longer we walked, the clearer it became that there was a line between us — and I wasn't sure if it was one I could ever cross. Do people stay people after being handed one of those mystical trinkets from the heavens? And what do they pay in return for that power, dropped into their palms like a divine freebie? More questions, none of them with answers I was likely to find anytime soon.
Monsters didn't even try to mess with my escort. They knew better. Most backed away respectfully, some turned and bolted altogether. Anything to avoid a fight they couldn't win. The boy didn't seem fazed — honestly, I got the feeling someone had gone out of their way to teach the local wildlife exactly why picking a fight with him was a terrible idea.
Hilichurls, though? Yeah, no such luck. Either they lacked a survival instinct or they just didn't care, because they kept charging in, even with the odds stacked stupidly against them. Suicidal little freaks. Still, it was useful to know.
The walk dragged on for hours. If it weren't for my "minor issue," we probably could've made it through the woods a lot faster. The leg had mostly healed by then — barely hurt anymore — but it still felt stiff, and I wasn't about to play the fool trying to act like a hero. Better to let my regeneration do its grim work without throwing more complications into the mix.
Despite his wild aura and almost feral demeanor, the boy turned out to be surprisingly considerate. He never rushed me along, just checked in from time to time to see how I was holding up. Of all the things I expected from someone raised by wolves, genuine concern wasn't one of them.
Sure, he wasn't much of a conversationalist — unsurprising, given his isolated lifestyle — but he was willing enough to answer questions when asked. That, in itself, said a lot. A clear sign of someone starved for interaction. Being around people again, even if he didn't fully realize it, seemed to awaken something in him — a basic human need for connection.
A person stays a person, no matter the circumstances… right?
Eventually, I even learned his name — Razor. The moment I heard it, a few long-forgotten memories from the game floated up in my head. Their version of Mowgli, if memory served. As an old friend of mine once said: "It's not stolen — it's just been… conquered."
But like all things, our little journey through the woods had to come to an end.
"Don't go farther," Razor said, stopping right at the edge of the forest and letting me take a few steps ahead. "I helped, but now… I go back to my… lupical." He hesitated on the last word, like it didn't quite fit into common speech.
My internal translator came up short on lupical, but I could take a good guess. The wolves. They'd been with us the whole time, just out of sight, silent and watchful. If not for a lucky glance, I might not have noticed at all. A slip-up on their part? Or a deliberate show of strength — a reminder not to do anything stupid?
Shaking the thought away, I turned to Razor and spoke sincerely.
"Thanks for your help."
He gave a silent nod, then without another word, melted back into the trees. A low howl echoed in the distance as he vanished, little more than a shadow swallowed by the forest.
Watching him disappear, I figured I'd better keep moving. Mondstadt was still a long walk away.
After another hour of slow, steady trekking, the pain in my leg finally faded. It wasn't fully healed, but it didn't slow me down anymore. Good enough. Honestly, I owed a lot to my boosted pain tolerance skill — it had leveled up a few times during this whole ordeal, and at this point, I considered it one of my most valuable assets.
More importantly, I'd finally reached my goal.
Just a few hundred paces ahead, nestled between low hills, was a human settlement. And damn, I never thought I'd be this happy to see civilization again — even if it was the medieval-fantasy version of it.
The village greeted me with surprising calm. A couple of knights at the entrance stopped me, asked a few standard questions, and took one long look at my bandaged leg.
"You alright? Need help?"
I waved them off, assuring them I was fine. But since they seemed so talkative, I figured — why not ask them a few questions of my own? Might as well make use of the local gossip network while I was here.
The first order of business? Figuring out how to make some money.
Turns out, my options were... limited. Most of them boiled down to either hunting monsters and selling their rare drops to alchemists — there was a buyer for that kind of thing right here in Springvale — or running errands for the local Adventurers' Guild back in Mondstadt.
Honestly, it lined up pretty well with what I'd expected, but it was still nice to hear it straight from the source. Before I left, I also asked where a guy could grab a decent meal and maybe roll some dice. You know — strictly for research purposes.
I thanked the guards for their time and, under a few lingering stares, headed toward the center of the village. According to them, that's where I'd find the community notice board.
Now, visitors weren't exactly rare in Springvale, but that didn't stop the curious stares — especially from the kids. Adults mostly just watched me with quiet suspicion. A stranger with a weapon always draws attention. Then again, showing up unarmed — especially from the direction I came — would probably have raised even more eyebrows.
And let's not forget the slime trailing after me like a loyal puppy. Not the kind of companion that puts folks at ease, judging by the looks I was getting.
Still, once the initial awkwardness wore off, I had to admit — the village had a certain charm to it. Neatly paved stone paths. Cozy little houses spaced just far enough apart. A few cats lounged on the rooftops, eyeing the "two-leggers" scuttling below with the kind of bored disdain only cats can pull off. Packs of kids darted through the streets, throwing glances over their shoulders at the "weird guy with the spear."
The whole scene had that distinct anime vibe — except this place didn't seem like it had been rendered on a tight budget.
"Interesting..." I muttered.
I finally reached the notice board and scanned the wooden frame until I found what I was looking for. As I read, the unfamiliar letters blurred for a moment — just long enough to make me blink — then reformed, this time in a language I understood.
Weird trick. I had no idea how the system pulled it off, and right now, I didn't care.
I had more pressing concerns.
I spent a few minutes going through the posted tasks, then narrowed them down to a few that seemed doable:
Slime core collection. Low pay, but well within my current skill level. Rank D.
Gathering flaming and mist flowers. The first kind was more common but harder to transport — hence the higher price. The second only grew near rivers and lakes. Rank C.
Collecting whopperflower nectar. Definitely the toughest job on the board. But judging by the reward, it was worth the risk — if only I had the specialized tools it required. Right now, that wasn't an option. Rank C+.
After weighing the choices, I settled on the slime cores. They were close by, and the area was swarming with the things lately.
Nodding to myself, I set off without wasting another second.
If I didn't want to spend another night under the stars getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, I had work to do.