Ren quietly stepped out from the shadow of the dense Bear Forest, his boots sinking slightly into the soft, damp carpet of decaying leaves.
A gentle light broke before his eyes as the curtain of trees slowly parted, revealing a sight that made his breath catch in his throat.
A vast lake stretched all the way to the horizon, still as a colossal silver mirror, reflecting the pale hues of the afternoon sky.
'No matter how many times I look at it… I still can't believe this is just a freshwater lake.' Ren let out a faint sigh, moving closer to the water's edge, where ripples lapped against a shore of scattered pebbles. 'The first time I saw this, I thought it was an ocean…'
He still remembered that feeling, breathless, like standing on the boundary between reality and illusion.
Though this was just one floor in the game, the sheer breadth and depth of the scenery made Ren shudder, as if something hidden and unfathomable lay beneath that placid surface.
The small wooden boat he had tied up was still there, old but sturdy, untouched by current or any creature's disturbance.
Ren carefully checked each knot, each plank, before lightly hopping aboard with quick, nimble movements.
As he sat down, the boat trembled gently, then began to glide slowly toward the center of the crystal-clear lake, like a leaf caught in the wind.
The soft splash of the paddle cutting through water blended with the whisper of wind over the lake, composing a melody of eerie tranquility.
Ren rowed with even strokes, letting the boat drift across waters that mirrored the fading silver sky.
All around, green patches of land rose like islands, though in truth they were only remnants of terrain swallowed and encircled by water, now lonely fortresses.
Trees still grew thick upon them, roots gripping the rocks as if fighting to avoid being erased from this world.
Far in the distance, the silhouette of Rovia emerged, the great city of the fourth floor.
Massive walls and lofty towers pierced the sky like silver spears, their aged stone cloaked in somber gray, like relics surviving from a bygone era.
Ren gazed in silence, his heart sinking slightly.
His journey from the Bear Forest to here was more than a mere return, it felt as if he was leaving a piece of himself behind, stepping forward into a place where challenges never diminished, not even a little.
He tightened his grip on the paddle, droplets scattering like tiny gems in the dim afternoon light. And still, the little boat drifted on, carrying a solitary figure…
The quest Ren was on had started by chance. He hadn't planned for it, nor was it part of any long-term strategy.
Just a moment of coincidence, a clue picked up by accident, and everything flowed from there, like a leaf turning gently on the still surface of the water.
The fourth floor, a world of lakes. Lands of all sizes fragmented, connected only by canals and waterways interlacing like veins.
Here, no one could travel far without a boat. But boats were a luxury, expensive to rent, scarce in number, and always contested by large player groups.
Ren had no surplus of resources. The quest [The Boatwright] had been his lifeline.
All he needed was to bring the old craftsman the right materials, and the man would build him a personal boat, a vital means of survival and progression in this waterbound floor.
Far ahead, Rovia came into full view, the grandest city of the fourth floor, where lines of boats converged at crowded docks, where tall wooden masts rose like ranks of spears from the rippling waters.
Its architecture was ancient and austere, a city forgotten by time, now reborn amid an endless inland sea.
Ren dipped the paddle again, the little boat slicing through waves that shimmered under the sun's fading light.
From here, he could see Rovia's unique design: the entire city divided into four sections by a cross-shaped canal, over seventy percent of its streets formed by waterways, a labyrinth of interwoven aquatic routes.
Stone houses rose from the water's edge, their moss-clad bases slick with moisture, while arched bridges spanned the canals, soft curves drawn across a stark, cold canvas.
On his first day here, Ren had nearly fallen into the water three times. The memory tugged a faint smirk onto his lips as he rowed, glancing at the half-submerged houses and open windows welcoming breezes from the lake.
The little boat glided along the main channel, carrying Ren deep into the city's heart, where every turn might lead to a new adventure.
Ren angled the paddle, bringing the boat to a wooden dock. The mooring ropes were ready; with a swift motion, he secured the vessel and hopped ashore.
An elderly man with a kindly face, the boat rental keeper, stood waiting with a smile. He said nothing more than a nod when Ren returned the boat on time.
In his eyes lingered something...like the programmed trust of an NPC, yet enough to ease a fraction of Ren's tension.
He exhaled, resting a hand on his hip to shake off the stiffness before lifting his gaze toward the city sprawled ahead.
From the dock, a flat stone path opened into an entirely different world: rows of stone-and-wood houses stood close together, their reddish-brown rooftops glowing faintly under the golden twilight sky.
Moss clung to their lower walls, where canal water lapped and exhaled the damp, earthy scent of this floating city.
Ren took a deep breath, feeling the cool dampness seep into his lungs, then began walking along the winding stone paths, crossing arched bridges that spanned crystal-clear canals.
Somewhere nearby, the sound of water lapping against boat hulls mingled with the calls of merchants, blending into the chaotic symphony of a city both bustling and ancient.
Finally, he stopped at the central square. There, the teleportation platform stood tall like a preserved relic, yet the pale white light radiating from the magic circle at its base carried a strangely modern beauty.
That light flickered constantly, reflecting off the surrounding stone walls as groups of players stepped onto the platform and vanished in the blink of an eye.
Ren stood still for a moment. Two days ago, the gate to the fourth floor had just been activated.
And yet now, streams of people were moving back and forth as if this place had always existed. He had arrived here much later than most, perhaps because of lingering quests and… nameless burdens he had yet to shed.
The past day and a half, Ren had spent almost entirely getting used to this city.
Learning how to navigate the maze-like canals, adapting to the frantic rhythm of life on the water, and searching for quests he could take on.
Following the quest's directions, Ren crossed rows of wooden bridges and narrow streets shimmering with reflected water.
At last, he stopped before a large workshop right next to the docks, where the scent of damp wood and the sharp clang of hammers echoed from within.
The door swung open, revealing shipwrights with calloused hands, their clothes stained with resin and sawdust.
A few looked up when he stepped inside, but instead of the friendly faces from when they first accepted his materials, their expressions now carried only scowls and wariness.
...
"What? It'll take another five days?" Ren frowned, his voice dropping as he heard the foreman's answer.
The bearded man scratched his chin, avoiding Ren's gaze. "Sorry, but… building a ship isn't as simple as you think. There are plenty of other orders waiting."
Ren's eyes narrowed on him. "Didn't you say it would only take half a day at first? Now suddenly it's five? Sounds… strange, doesn't it?"
The air inside the workshop grew heavy. A few sailors standing nearby men, Ren hadn't seen before, exchanged glances and began to move closer, blocking his way out.
Their faces bore faint smiles, the kind that were hard to tell if friendly or threatening.
"We said we're busy," one of the craftsmen said bluntly. "If you don't like it, you can wait. Otherwise… there's no other option."
A wave of irritation surged through Ren. His hand twitched, wanting to grip the sword at his waist, but he held back. "Fine. Then return my materials and my money. I'll find somewhere else."
That line made a few of them pause for a heartbeat before hiding it behind strained smiles. The foreman didn't answer. He simply turned away and said in a cold tone, "The materials… have already been used. Can't give them back."
Ren tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as his gaze swept across each face in the room.
Something felt off, like a thorn pricking his instincts. This wasn't the usual bustle of shipbuilders at work. This was something else, something they didn't want anyone to see.
At the far end of the workshop, massive ship frames were shrouded beneath old, frayed tarps.
But Ren couldn't ignore their enormous curves, far too large for a cargo or fishing vessel. It looked like… a warship.
His brow furrowed as he took a slow step forward, eyes flicking over the fresh paint streaks on the floor and the jet-black timber, wood not typically used for fishing boats. What were they preparing for?
"I'll ask one more time." Ren's voice dropped, slicing through the suffocating air. "Didn't you say it would take five whole days? Then why are my materials already gone? Don't tell me you used them for… that."
Several of the workers froze, their eyes flickering for the briefest moment. Then one of them cleared his throat and forced a laugh.
"You're overthinking it. We just… accidentally used a little bit of it. No big deal."
"No big deal?" Ren's brows knit tighter.
A tense silence blanketed the workshop. Their eyes darted quickly from one to another, then looked away.
"I didn't pay for someone to use my materials for something else," Ren said, enunciating each word as he stepped forward, his hand tightening on the hilt at his side.
The air thickened like tar. A burly man with a beard cleared his throat, trying to put on a crooked smile. "Come on, cut us some slack. Orders have been piling up lately… Everyone has to wait their turn, just like you."
Ren shook his head, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "Don't dodge the issue. Either you give me back my money and materials right now, or I'll stay here until you finish the job."
His words fell like the edge of a frozen blade. The craftsmen exchanged glances once more, but this time their eyes held something sharper, tension, like something dangerous was about to be exposed.
After a long silence, the bearded man sighed and motioned to his companions. "Alright… How about this, we'll prioritize your ship. No need to wait five days. Just… a few hours."
Ren narrowed his eyes, studying them one last time. Even though their apology sounded sincere, the unease gnawing at his chest refused to fade. Something was wrong with this workshop.