"Old man Stem, do you know the place?"
"Yeah. It’s been so long I can’t even remember the last time I heard the name, but... hold on a second."
The elderly man the soldier called Stem headed toward a nearby table. For a fleeting second, the thick monster-hide leather he wore looked like armor, but it was just an apron. Given how he was currently delivering mugs to a group of adventurers, he seemed to be the tavern’s server.
"That man was an adventurer in this forest back when he was young," the soldier explained. "Even after he retired, he stayed on to run this place. There’s no one alive who knows more about the Sea of Trees than him."
"I’ve just been here a long time, is all," Stem grunted as he returned.
He set down his tray and grabbed a small, backless stool with one hand while pulling a pipe from his apron pocket with the other. He took a seat between me and the guard, lighting his pipe before finally opening his mouth.
"So, you were asking about Kormi Village?"
"Yeah," the guard replied. "I've never even heard of the place."
"I’m not surprised. I don’t recall every detail, but Kormi was swallowed by the Sea of Trees about forty years ago."
"Forty years? You mean it’s actually past 'The Frontline'!?" the guard barked.
His voice was so loud that the surrounding adventurers all turned to look. I gathered that "The Frontline" was the name for the base located deepest within the Sea of Trees. If Kormi Village lay beyond that point, it meant I was attempting to venture into a dangerous, uncharted wilderness where human life had ceased to exist—a territory considered a lethal frontier even by those who lived in the forest. It was no wonder I was drawing stares.
"There's no mistake," Stem continued. "I was born in a village even deeper than that one, and I lived in Kormi for a while, so I know exactly where it sits."
"You actually lived in Kormi Village?" I asked.
"That would’ve been about fifty years back. The King at the time decided he wanted to reclaim the Sea of Trees right after his coronation. He sent the military in to tear up the woods, but their presence just provoked the forest’s fury. My hometown, being the closest to the trees at the time, was overrun in a heartbeat. We evacuated to Kormi before it was completely swallowed. So, kid, what business do you have in a ghost town like that?"
"Visiting graves and settling some old affairs," I replied.
The soldier’s eyes went wide again at my standard explanation. "You're from that village? I thought you said this was your first time here."
"I meant that it's my first time using this outpost or any of the official bases. It's not my first time in the Sea of Trees itself."
"Nobody is going to interpret it that way, kid. Besides, is it even possible to survive out there?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say it's impossible," Stem cut in before I could answer.
The guard looked skeptical, but I was surprised Stem had backed me up.
"I’m shocked there are still survivors," Stem said, "but back in the day, that village was a trading hub just like this place. Kormi had nearly ten years of leeway before the forest finally took it. It started as a simple farming village, but they prepared for the worst long before the trees arrived—building sturdy walls and digging deep, wide moats. Once the lord's manor went up and the National Army moved in, there were even plans to turn the whole thing into a massive fortress city for reclamation and defense."
"So the infrastructure for living is actually there?" the guard asked.
"At the very least, the foundation was solid. They kept building and strengthening the place right up until it was abandoned. For a good ten or fifteen years after it was officially swallowed—roughly thirty or forty years ago—it wasn't even that rare for people to travel back and forth. They traded forest materials, collected compensation from the crown, and... what was it? Oh, they had an industry going."
"Was it pepper?" I asked. "I wasn't involved in the trade, but I know it was cultivated in Kormi."
"That’s the one. The climate changed once the village was surrounded by trees, making it perfect for spices. Back then, Kormi was a boomtown. Where there’s gold, people follow, and they can afford the best defenses. In those days, you could buy safety with coin."
However, Stem’s tone shifted as he added, "But that only lasted until thirty years ago."
"Old man Stem, what happened then?" a voice called out from a nearby table.
"Don't leave us hanging!" another adventurer added.
I had noticed that most of the patrons were using our conversation as entertainment for their drinks.
"The kingdom’s reclamation project fell apart," Stem said bluntly. "The death toll and injuries were staggering. Instead of making progress, the forest just kept pushing back harder because of the army's interference. Individual adventurers like us were making a killing, but the crown was hemmed in by massive losses."
"Makes sense," the guard nodded. "If the money dries up, the army and the nobles pull their troops out."
"Exactly. But the adventurers, the merchants, and the old-timers mostly stayed behind. If anything, people were glad to see the military go—they thought they’d be more relaxed without the nobles breathing down their necks and taking a cut of the profits. Looking back, hardly anyone had a real sense of crisis."
It was likely a classic case of normalcy bias. After the National Army withdrew, the villagers convinced themselves that they could simply hire more adventurers to fill the gap. They believed that because they had been prosperous for so long, they would surely be fine forever, even without subsidies.
The result was obvious. Stem exhaled a cloud of smoke and sighed, while the surrounding adventurers wore expressions of pity or exasperation.
"Kormi fell apart in the blink of an eye. I remember seeing the survivors come to the newer outposts to trade, but they came less and less often, and in smaller numbers. I haven't seen a soul from there in twenty years. Toward the end, they didn't even have anything left to trade; they were basically begging for scraps. None of us felt like helping them after a certain point... Ah, sorry. I don’t lump you in with them, kid, since you clearly made it here on your own, but I imagine it’s not pleasant to hear your people badmouthed."
"Please don't worry about it," I assured him. "Even though the village was my home, I was always treated like an outsider. I have no attachment to them. After my grandparents passed away, it was obvious the villagers would only treat me as one of their own when it was time to exploit me. That’s why I took a chance and ran."
Strictly speaking, I wasn't even a villager to begin with... though I kept that to myself.
Still, the way he described the village’s decline matched what I’d heard about how they treated my grandparents. Gain and the others had told me the details, but to think I’d meet someone who actually remembered those days... Wait. Stem was staring at me quite intently now, smoke trailing from his mouth.
"Old man, something wrong?" the guard asked.
"It’s nothing, really... but kid, did you say grandparents? You don't mean that pair, do you?"
"Wait, do you actually know them!?" I asked, unable to hide my shock.
Stem took a moment to think before answering. "I can’t be sure if it’s the same people. But years ago, there was a pair that would show up at the forest outposts from time to time—an old Dwarf and a Human woman. They never gave their names, and they used some kind of magic that made it so you couldn't clearly remember their faces or voices the moment they left."
"That's definitely them," I said. "My grandfather was a Dwarf, and my grandmother was a Human. And they certainly had their secrets; they never spoke to me about their past, either."
"I see. Well, everyone out here has secrets. But those two... for people who were supposed to be hiding, they were remarkably bold. The woman was soft-spoken and didn't seem like a bad sort, so no one tried to pry. Mostly because we were too terrified of making them angry. Those two would come wandering out from the deep forest like they were taking a casual stroll, trade a mountain of rare materials for supplies, and then just vanish back into the trees. They were legendary for their strength. So... they’re gone now, are they?"
Stem spoke with a touch of nostalgia, but his final words were blunt. A second later, he stood up.
"Kid, can you handle your liquor?"
"I can."
"Good. Stay put."
He walked off toward the counter.
"Does this mean he's buying me a drink?" I asked the guard.
"Looks like it. It's a funeral rite."
According to the guard, death was a daily occurrence here. The person you shared a drink with yesterday might be gone today. And since dying in the forest meant becoming monster feed, there was rarely a body to recover. Those who stayed in the Sea of Trees long enough naturally became detached toward death, much like Stem had just demonstrated.
However, that didn't mean they didn't honor the fallen. Instead of a formal funeral, they would share one drink in memory of the deceased. Usually, that led to a second or third mug, but they only dedicated the first one to the dead—downing it in one go before moving on to talk about the future and the next hunt. It seemed cold, but out here, lingering on grief could get you killed. You had to move on to survive.
Stem returned carrying six brimming mugs.
"Here."
"Whoa! One for me too?" the guard asked.
"You can pay for it if you're so inclined," Stem grunted.
"Accepting a kind gesture is just common courtesy," the guard laughed, reaching out.
Stem slammed the mugs onto the table with a heavy thud. The liquid sloshed violently, but the thick, creamy foam on top acted like a lid, preventing any spills.
"Here, kid. A toast."
"Thank you."
My Medicine Slime didn't react, so I knew there was no poison. I lifted my mug, prayed for my grandparents' peace, and clinked it against theirs. The heavy wood made a satisfying sound. As I drank, a complex, spicy-sweet aroma hit my nose. It was unlike anything I'd tasted before, but it was excellent.
Despite the foam, it wasn't overly carbonated. It wasn't ice-cold, but the temperature was perfect for something so smooth. I finished the entire mug in under ten seconds.
"Not bad, kid. You can hold your own."
"Thank you. It was very easy to drink."
"If you store it in barrels made from Heat-Radiating Trees, it picks up that unique flavor. We’ve got some distilled stuff that’s been aged even longer, though it’s much stronger and pricier. Your grandfather used to gulp that down like it was water."
Stem drained half his mug while reminiscing, then reached for a second.
"This might be unwanted advice, but don't miss your chance to turn back. Don't let sentiment cloud your judgment. If it comes down to it, abandon your companions to save yourself. Those who can't do that don't last long here. If you die, that's your business, but it’s a damn waste. If you realize you can't reach that village, come back. As long as you're breathing, you can try again. And feel free to leave some gold and materials here while you’re at it."
Having delivered his warning, he finished his drink, gathered the empty mugs, and went back to work without another word.
"It's rare for the old man to say that much to a stranger," the guard remarked.
"Is it?"
"Yeah. He's been here longer than anyone. He’s used to death, even if he doesn't like it. Maybe it was a whim, or maybe he owed your grandparents a debt. He's a prickly old guy, but he’s loyal. Best not to pry if he isn't talking. Anyway, I think I've got enough for my report."
The guard still had half a mug left, so we continued talking for a while. In the end, I decided to stay the night at the base. I hadn't planned on it, but since I’d had a couple of drinks, it was better to be safe. Fortunately, the base wasn't as rowdy as I’d feared, and my curse-mitigation was holding up well.
My first day in the Sea of Trees ended on a surprisingly peaceful note.
The following morning.
Having explored the outpost the evening before, I knew the base was structured like a donut-shaped tunnel. The interior was divided into sections housing various shops for daily life and exploration. Because there were almost no windows to keep monsters out, the lighting was all magical and the air was circulated via vents. It felt a bit like a shopping mall inside a subway station—strangely nostalgic.
I eventually reached the exit on the opposite side of the base. This area also featured a tavern, where a good number of adventurers were already eating and drinking. As I walked in, all eyes turned to me. No one spoke, but a child was a rare sight, and rumors clearly traveled fast in such a closed community. They likely already knew I was headed past the Frontline.
I heard whispering, but it felt more like they were gauging my worth rather than wishing me harm. I even heard someone starting a betting pool, but it didn't bother me. People here were fundamentally businesslike. You could make a fortune, but you lived on the edge. They valued skill over everything else. If you were strong, you were accepted; if you were weak, you were ignored. It was a harsh but simple way of life.
In a way, it was easier this way. Those who doubted me would stay away to avoid being caught in my failure. It was actually quite relaxing.
...If I had found this place before meeting the Duke's family, I might have just settled down here. The thought crossed my mind because of how straightforward the atmosphere felt.
"So, you're off?"
"Good morning, Ashton," I replied.
The guard from yesterday was standing at the gate. Today was his shift for sentry duty.
"Alright. I'll open it up for you."
He pulled back the heavy iron bolt and pushed the door open just enough for me to slip through.
"Stay sharp out there, kid. We'll have another drink when you get back!"
"I will! Thank you!"
He gave me a grin and pulled the door shut. I listened to the sound of the bolt sliding back into place, then turned and began my walk deeper into the Great Sea of Trees.