As Glen and I pushed through the Sea of Trees toward Kormi Village, we came upon a wide, silt-laden river.
"Are we crossing here?" he asked.
"No, we’ll follow the river upstream for a while from here."
"This way, then."
I pointed out the direction, and then I was forced to hustle to keep up as he set off with a heavy, purposeful tread.
"Still, it’s a long way," he mused. "Even I’ve never ventured this deep into the forest before."
"Do you come to the Sea of Trees often, Glen?"
"Not often, exactly. But you don't have to look hard to find powerful monsters here, and that makes for good coin."
"There aren't many places where C-Ranks—to say nothing of B and A-Ranks—are practically growing on trees. Thinking about it again, this place really is a total Hell."
"Hah! You’re the one walking through this Hell like you’re taking a stroll in the park. You’re a fine one to talk."
"I just think if you look at it objectively, this isn't a place where any sane human belongs."
To put it bluntly, this was no place for people to live. I finally understood, in the truest sense, why everyone had been so flabbergasted when I mentioned where I grew up or where I was headed. It was only natural they had all looked at me with such indescribable expressions.
As we spoke, branches thick as logs lashed out from above while roots sharp as stakes lunged from beneath our feet. I evaded the onslaught with Space Magic and slashed upward at the massive tree before me with my Katana. A Qi Blade erupted from the edge, racing up the trunk and cleaving through a massive burl on the upper section. Simultaneously, a heavy impact thudded from the tree beside it, and the writhing branches and roots went instantly limp.
"Ah, damn it. I did it again."
I heard Glen grumble as he climbed down. He didn't sound particularly distressed, but I wondered what had happened.
"Are you all right?"
"I’m not hurt. I just put a bit too much power into the swing."
He held up the giant Hammer he’d been using. The sound of his strike had been like a cannon blast; clearly, he had applied an immense amount of force. The metal handle was bent and snapped clean through the middle.
"That’s quite the spectacular break."
"I bought the sturdiest one in the Royal Capital, but it’s still too damn brittle."
According to him, because he performed physical Strengthening unconsciously and with near-perfect efficiency, he wasn't very good at tasks like intentionally cladding a weapon in Qi. As a result, his weapons often failed to withstand the raw power of his reinforced body.
Watching him toss the ruined tool into his pouch with practiced ease, I realized this was a routine occurrence for him.
"Do you have a spare?"
"That was the spare. Don't worry about it; if I don't have a weapon, I'll just use my fists."
He had apparently already broken at least one other hammer today. He sounded like he was channeling some ancient queen—"If they have no bread, let them eat cake"—but after traveling with him this far, I’d come to understand his absurdly reckless nature. This man would be just fine.
"Still, we finished them off at the same time, didn't we?"
"It’s not like we're competing. More importantly, what should we do about the materials? It’s a Trent... or at this size, probably an Elder Trent."
"Either way, it’s too big. And there’s two of 'em. With the other monsters we’ve hunted today, there’s no way we’re lugging this back."
"Even with my Space Magic, I can't take everything."
These were Twin Trents, or rather, Heat-Radiating Tree Trents. The trees they were based on were already enormous, so recovering both would be a massive chore. I considered leaving them and coming back later if the opportunity arose, but then an idea struck me.
"Let's stop and rest here for the night."
"Huh? Oh, I guess other monsters might avoid this spot since they know it was these guys' territory."
"Since they're so huge, their roots are firmly anchored. It doesn't look like they'll topple over. And the river is close, so water won't be an issue."
"Fine by me. I don't know the way anyway, so I'll leave the logistics to you."
With that, Glen pulled a sturdy cloth from his waist pouch, threw it over his shoulders like a mantle, and promptly lay down on the bulging roots of the Heat-Radiating Tree Trent.
"You aren't seriously planning to sleep like that, are you?"
"Yep."
It was the crudest camping setup I’d ever seen. If a normal person tried that, they’d be covered in insects and leeches within minutes. But Glen lived by a wild, instinctive code. When it had rained earlier, he’d simply sat there and let himself get soaked to the bone, then shaken himself dry like a dog once the clouds cleared. I’d nearly called him out on it.
When I’d asked if he was worried about hypothermia, he’d just replied, "Fighting spirit and food." The man was beyond the reach of common sense. It wasn't a method I could ever adopt, but since it worked for him, I suppose it wasn't a problem.
Still, it bothered me, so I summoned my Huge Rock Slime and had it construct a simple hut. I couldn't exactly enjoy my evening if my companion was left out in the rain.
"You can make a whole room out of slimes? I've seen guys use Earth Magic for windbreaks before, but this is something else."
Glen circled the finished hut with genuine curiosity. He’d done the same thing with the Immortal Snake earlier. Since he seemed to like it, I decided to add a few more comforts.
The interior was the slime’s domain, so I couldn't do anything too ornate, but I could improve the livability. I called out a Filter Slime with Space Magic and placed it in the air vent. By having the Huge Rock Slime adjust the aperture, it served as both a Screen Door and an air purifier. It would keep the bugs out, and if a monster approached, the slime would seal the hole entirely.
Next, I placed something else in front of the vent.
"What's with the ice? Are we eating that?" Glen asked, peering in from the entrance.
Admittedly, it did look like a bowl of shaved ice.
"This is a Slime, too."
I had prepared a bucket containing an Ice Slime—an evolution from the cold wave at the end of last year—and a Snow Slime, which I’d received from the orphans after the kidnapping incident.
"These two species both hate heat and love the cold, but their natures are different. The Ice Slime has high Cold Retention and is fairly heat-resistant. It cools its surroundings indirectly through contact, but its range is narrow. Think of it as a block of ice that refuses to melt. The Snow Slime, however, is delicate and hates heat. But its body is made of snow, and it favors the Wind Attribute. That means it can manipulate the air and has a much wider cooling range."
"And that means... what, exactly?"
"It’s easier to show you. Come inside."
Once Glen squeezed himself in, I signaled the Huge Rock Slime to seal the entrance. It went pitch black, so I conjured a Light spell. I then commanded the Snow Slime to feed, and a gentle flurry of powder began to dance from its body.
"Oh?"
"Feel that?"
"Yeah... it’s cool. No, the air isn't cold, exactly, but that heavy humidity from outside is just... gone."
"I'm having the Snow Slime dehumidify the room."
One of the most draining parts of the Sea of Trees was the oppressive heat and humidity. Humidity is just moisture in the air; if it condenses, it's rain, and if it freezes, it's snow. By having the Snow Slime gather that moisture to create snow for its own consumption, the room’s humidity dropped.
"The Snow Slime is just looking for a meal, but I have to be careful. If it works too hard, it’ll exhaust itself from the cold it generates, so keeping the area small is better. I’m also using the Ice Slime for its Cold Retention and a barrier spell to keep the chilled air from leaking out."
I encased the bucket in a barrier that held the cold while allowing air to circulate. Within that small space, a miniature cloud formed and began to drop tiny flakes of snow. If the container had been glass, it would have looked exactly like a snow globe from a gift shop.
"This is amazing! It feels like I'm back in the civilized world!"
"Humidity makes everything miserable. By the way, the entrance is sealed, but if you need to go out, just put your hand on the wall and the slime will let you through."
With the environment settled, it was time for dinner. I had Retort Food prepared, so it was a simple matter. However, the hut was a bit tight for someone of Glen's stature, so I decided to cook outside.
I cleared a patch of grass with Wind Magic and leveled the ground with Earth Magic, turning a corner of the jungle into a functional campsite. I started a bonfire and set a pot to boil, then received a quick full-body scrub from a Cleaner Slime while I waited for the pouches to heat.
"Gah! This is incredible! I never dreamed I’d eat like this out here!"
"Swallow before you speak, please. There’s plenty for seconds."
The moment I’d opened the first pouch, Glen’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head. After the first bite, he’d started inhaling the food. In an environment like this, even simple home cooking was a king’s ransom—a fact that apparently held true even for an S-Rank Adventurer.
"I’m glad you like it. I was worried you might pull a high-end steak out of your pouch and put my cooking to shame."
"As if. It’d freeze or rot. I might bring city food for the first day, but if I’m out here for a while, it’s just hardbread and jerky. Where do you even buy this stuff?"
"I get it through a connection with a certain Ducal House. It isn't for public sale."
"Hoh... wait, should you be showing me this?"
"It’s not some state secret. My benefactors told me it’s better to use these than to waste focus on cooking or eat foul food that might slow me down. My life is more valuable to them than a few pouches of stew."
In truth, the Jamil family was worried about me, and from a practical standpoint, my continued survival was a higher priority than keeping the technology under wraps. Besides, they were already rushing to implement the retort pouches for food aid due to last year's disasters, and Sieber and Remily were already on the list for supplies.
"I see. Well, if it won't cause trouble, I'll eat my fill."
He spoke with his mouth full, clearly not worried in the slightest. He then pulled an ornate glass bottle from his pouch and popped the seal. He did it so naturally that I didn't even have time to react before he was swigging directly from the bottle.
I’d given up on trying to correct his behavior. He likely wouldn't die, and if he passed out, I’d just leave him.
"Pwah! Good food needs good booze!"
The bottle contained an amber liquid that looked both expensive and potent. He drank it with great relish, then paused, reaching back into his pouch.
"Looking for something?"
"This is great and all, but now I’m craving real meat. I think I had some jerky left..."
"The stew was ten servings, Glen. Are you still hungry?"
I suppose his constitution demanded the calories. I remembered that Immortal Snake meat was supposed to be a delicacy. We’d be in the forest for a while, so we might as well eat it before it spoiled.
I had my Grave Slime produce the Immortal Snake I’d been storing. I took the section I’d severed earlier; even just that piece was massive, and the demolition was a chore in itself.
Monsters drawn by the scent of blood tried to crash the party, but Glen drove them off with effortless ease. He was a handful, but there was no denying he was a reliable ally.
The meat looked incredible. The moment the thick slices touched the heated iron plate, the fat began to render. I didn't even use seasoning for the first batch, but the aroma was as savory as glazed yakitori.
"Is it done yet?" Glen asked, hovering over the grill.
"I don't know the 'proper' way to cook snake, but as long as the color has changed, it should be fine."
I took a bite. The meat was tender enough to be sliced by a dull tooth, and it practically dissolved on my tongue, releasing a flood of rich juice. Despite the amount of oil it had rendered, the flavor was surprisingly clean and light.
"It's delicious."
"I can see it in your eyes! Give me some!"
"I’ll keep the grill going."
I piled more meat on. The snake had no gaminess at all, so a simple dash of salt and pepper was all it needed. We could have eaten it forever.
"This is the perfect companion for booze! Damn... what a waste all those others were."
"You said you usually turned them into mincemeat, right?"
"Yeah. Blades break too easily on these things. By the time I finish one off, it’s usually just a ball of meat and mud. I've killed plenty, but I've never actually tasted one."
As we ate, Glen's bottle ran dry, and another identical one appeared from his pouch.
"I’m nearly out of my stash, though. Ryoma, you got anything to drink?"
"I have some homemade stuff, if you aren't picky."
"Seriously? You’re like a walking general store. How much do you have?"
"I have more than we could ever drink."
I briefly explained that my Goblins were obsessed with brewing and that I had a near-limitless supply in my Dimension Home. I handed him a large jug of Shirozake I’d bottled. Without a second thought, he swigged it down.
"Not bad! Strong, but smooth. It... I don't know, it feels like it's soaking right into my bones. It’s refreshing. How much do I owe you?"
His face said more than his words. The "soaking in" was likely the nutrients; Shirozake is rich in amino acids and was often used in my old world to fight off summer exhaustion. It was perfect for the Sea of Trees.
I told him I didn't really have a price since it was for personal use. In response, Glen pulled five of his expensive liquor bottles from his pouch.
"Trade you for these. I don't know the price either, but I told the shopkeeper in the capital to give me the most expensive, tastiest stuff they had. It should be worth a fair bit. Does that cover the booze and the food?"
"In that case, I can give you fifty bottles right now, and I’ll have double that by tomorrow."
"Deal!"
I pulled the Shirozake from my Item Box and handed it over. Neither of us knew the actual market value of the other’s goods, but that made the transaction easier. As long as we were both happy, it was a fair trade.
"If you want to buy more later, you should look for the real thing in the Fatma Territory. A professional brewer’s work is on another level compared to mine."
"Fatma, huh? I’ve heard the name. Maybe I’ll swing by."
As we sat there, Glen regaled me with stories of his life as an S-Rank Adventurer. Most of it was useless as a reference—mainly because he got away with things only he could survive—but it was fascinating nonetheless.
Just the two of us, deep in the jungle. Since he was so unconcerned with formalities, I found I could relax, too. Occasionally, a monster would wander too close, and we’d drive it off before returning to our meal. Our rowdy, easygoing barbecue lasted long into the night.