Chapter 25: Extreme Ideas
On the thirtieth day of their adventure, the group made swift progress. Perhaps it was because Kraft was familiar with the roads; they reached Glimmerwood, a journey that should have taken a month, in just half the time.
"It's truly astonishing. I've only ever seen the druids use such a rapid-growth spell before."
Kraft couldn't help but express his amazement once again as he watched Rhodes take a handful of seeds from his pack, scatter them on the ground, and then use a spell to make them quickly sprout and grow. Over the past few weeks, he had witnessed firsthand how Rhodes had gone from clumsily attempting the spell to mastering it with such proficiency.
He had been utterly shocked the first time he had seen Rhodes cast the spell.
Of course, that first attempt had been a failure. The seed hadn't grown, but had simply withered away. But through trial and error, the seeds had gone from sprouting but bearing no fruit, to being laden with ripe fruit in a mere eight days. For an elf, that amount of time was just the blink of an eye, but this man had managed to achieve such a feat.
The tender sprout shot up, and in an instant, became a full-grown plant, already bearing crimson fruit. Rhodes plucked one and, out of habit, handed it to Serie.
Serie took the fruit and bit into it. The sweet juice exploded in her mouth, making her eyes narrow in pleasure.
Somme had, at some point, sidled up to them, his face a mask of pure admiration. "Rhodes, you're practically a walking granary!"
"What a strange comparison!"
Rhodes laughed and gave the dwarf a playful punch. Over the past couple of weeks, he had gotten to know Somme quite well. He possessed the boisterousness and courage of a dwarf, but also a carefulness that most dwarves lacked. And when he had learned of their destination, he hadn't shown any hesitation, but had been filled with a fighting spirit. From every angle, he was a fine adventuring companion. He would be perfect, if only he ate a little less. In fact, because of the two new additions to the party, Rhodes's precious supply of spices had been rapidly dwindling. Replenishing his spice supply had been one of the reasons he had created the rapid-growth spell.
Kraft stood a short distance away, a complex light in his eyes. He had never seen such a unique system of magic. It was not of elven heritage, nor was it the magic of the druids. It was something he had never seen before. In fact, it hardly seemed like a magic system from this world at all. He had tried to subtly probe Serie about it before, but she had said nothing. He knew it was their secret, and so he didn't press the issue, but the curiosity in his heart remained.
Regardless, just from the magical talent Rhodes had displayed, it was clear that he was destined to become a powerful mage. Kraft found himself looking forward to that day.
That night, the four of them sat around the campfire. They would be entering the Glimmerwood proper tomorrow, so there was no rush. They had decided to rest for the night. Rhodes could hardly wait to meet his kinsmen. It would be the first time he had seen other humans in the more than half a year since he had come to this world. He just hoped they were a kind-hearted tribe. If they were full of deceit and strife, he would not teach them magic.
At the moment, Somme was greedily devouring the berries Rhodes had produced with his spell, the juice dripping down his smooth, beardless chin.
"Slow down," Rhodes laughed, handing him a cloth. "No one's going to steal it from you."
Perfectly grilled meat skewers, carefully seasoned mushroom soup, and sweet berries for dessert—it was a meal that could win over the stomach of any creature in this world.
Somme wiped his mouth. "Rhodes, your cooking is incredible! When this damned war is over, you have to come be a chef in the Dwarven Kingdom!"
Somme had heard that his village had been called upon, and he had already decided that once he was strong enough, he would return to the Dwarven Kingdom and become a respected warrior. The "war" he was referring to, of course, was the three-race alliance to cleanse the world of magical beasts. But no one could say for sure when that war would end. Not even the leaders of the three races themselves knew.
"Being a chef is not my dream." Rhodes laughed and refused his offer. It was a joke. His ambition was to be, at the very least, the most ancient human mage, or the first Great Sage. The title of "Dwarven Chef" was hardly enough to satisfy him. As for the title of "First Hero"... Rhodes had no interest in that. There wasn't even a Demon King to fight yet. You couldn't save the world without a final boss to defeat. Besides, in the Age of Myth, it was hard to say who was good and who was evil. All the races were fighting for their own gods. There was no clear right or wrong. The races were simply tired of fighting and had decided to take a temporary break to deal with the growing magical beast problem.
"But this might just be the last war."
Kraft, who was adding a log to the fire, suddenly spoke. As the only one in their group with contact to the outside world, he was privy to the latest developments.
"Why?" Serie suddenly looked up. She had sensed a deeper meaning in his words. It wasn't just about the three-race alliance.
"There were already whispers of it at the allied council meeting. The various races are simply tired of fighting. Even the gods themselves have grown weary of it."
In the Age of Myth, the gods truly existed. Or at least, their essence was present in the world, though they couldn't unleash their full power due to the limitations of this plane. But they could manifest their power through their followers and even allow them to harm the followers of other gods. Rhodes had always wanted to see one of these legendary gods for himself.
"Tsk."
Serie clicked her tongue and lowered her head. Rhodes knew she was unhappy. After all, her ultimate goal was to kill a god, and she wanted this war to be as chaotic as possible. And then, one day, someone tells her that the gods are tired of it and have decided to stop. The frustration she must be feeling was palpable.
To start and stop a war on a whim... what do they take their followers for? If you're going to fight, you have to fight until a victor is decided. A draw like this is meaningless!
Serie's face was hidden in the shadows, her expression unreadable.
Rhodes quietly moved closer and said softly, "Don't think too much about it."
Serie looked up, the firelight reflected in her golden eyes. "You don't understand. This war has been going on for two thousand years! Two thousand years!" Her voice was tinged with a barely suppressed anger. "Why... why wasn't I born earlier!?"
Rhodes was silent. The Serie of this era was already beginning to show signs of extremism in her thinking.