Chapter 2: Ascension
Chapter 2: Ascension
Echoes of a Distant Bond
Wenger could sense that the skill upgrade enhanced not only the yield multiplier but also the range. However, the exact extent required later testing.
The name Aiton, meanwhile, hadn’t reached her ears in ages.
He was, after all, the child she adopted fifty years ago. By human standards, he was no longer young.
To be honest, Wenger wasn’t certain if the “Witch” profession or the player’s account itself bypassed lifespan limits. Consequently, she felt her vitality mirrored that of an immortal species, her appearance frozen in time.
Inviting the young girl for afternoon tea, she sat and carefully opened a letter with a golden border stamp.
The handwritten letter, neither long nor short, began with, “Dear Mother…”
Wenger: …
Quickly, it was corrected to “Father.”
The letter briefly outlined his journey since leaving Maple Whisper Village. Due to remarkable war achievements, he had earned the title of Earl. Now, having settled his territory’s affairs, he was traveling to the capital on official business. Therefore, he wished to invite her along and, if possible, bring her to live in his fief permanently. Barring surprises, his subordinates would arrive soon after the letter.
The handwriting, now mature, still carried his familiar personality. Yet, Wenger easily discerned the weight hidden behind the light tone.
Recalling the child’s gradual progress by her side, she clutched her chest, warmed by rare happiness.
Nevertheless, she instantly rejected the invitation in her heart.
What a ridiculous notion!
The outside world was far too dangerous—why would she leave? Otherwise, she wouldn’t have settled in this remote corner to begin with.
Absolutely not.
A Tense Moment at Tea
Wenger’s sharp, icy aura startled the young girl.
“No strange people have wandered in, right?”
Vey, trembling, stammered, “N-no… none.”
“Good, then—” Wenger exhaled deeply, slumping into her chair. Above all, she cherished her tranquil life and dreaded its disruption. Her only concern now was that “Harvest” had ascended again. Consequently, the village’s grain and resources far exceeded its needs.
Previously, surplus goods were sold through trade agreements. Now, however, the granary held enough food for five years.
Truly, it was a bothersome issue.
Observing the girl in her silk petticoat, Wenger noted her student’s growing beauty but persistent immaturity.
“Aren’t you going to check the fields?”
“Teacher, I’m practically a cleric here,” Vey replied with a grin. “For now, I’ll just use your magic to help out when I can.” Her cheeks bulged with pastries, resembling a protective hamster.
“Then don’t forget to clean up. I’m heading back.”
“Teacher, how could you—!”
Wenger darted off, leaving the tea’s remnants for her student. She ignored the complaints trailing behind her.
At present, Vey was her only student left in the village. Perhaps, in time, she too would venture beyond this small world.
Reflections by the Stream
As she walked, the sunlight felt soft and soothing.
Low houses nestled into corners, weaving a maze of streets. Meanwhile, crystal-clear streams threaded through the buildings.
Pausing on a stone bridge, Wenger gazed at the transparent water below. She lingered, “wasting” time without a care. After all, savoring this slow life was part of her existence.
Sadly, despite her heartfelt advice, her students always craved strength.
Of course, she had considered it herself, but only for self-preservation.
Hiding far away wasn’t as effective as being powerful. However, a Witch’s ascension was unique, demanding prolonged waiting as her path to truth.
The ascension panel clearly stated, “O Witch, please wait.” With each rank, she gained a blessing. Thus far, she had acquired [Harvest], [Affinity], and [Purity].
[Afinity] reduced resistance from objects, boosting her elemental magic. Likely, it also explained why small animals adored her. [Purity], meanwhile, cleansed all abnormal statuses and curses. These blessings could improve through various training methods.
The nine ranks differed by profession, with unique ascension paths but similar broad stages. Every three ranks emphasized distinct aspects: spiritual awakening, fused imprints, and domain manifestation. Each stage felt like a rebirth.
She understood this better than anyone. Yet, applying it in practice was far too challenging.
By contrast, this profession suited her relaxed nature. Moreover, with her potion nearing maturity and [Harvest]’s boost, this ascension was nearly assured.
A Sudden Memory
Snapping back to the stream, Wenger suddenly recalled she hadn’t fetched “Peach” in a while.
In a flash, she reached the well. Villagers at stalls and passersby greeted her warmly.
“Miss Wenger, want some meat? I’ve got two racks of ribs!”
“I’ve got fresh vegetables from my garden!”
“Lady Envoy, you’re as radiant as ever…”
Nodding to each, she leaned over the well and called, “Peach! Peach—!”
A sound echoed from the cold well. From the shadows, a figure shot up the walls.
Before the villagers’ eyes, as the Witch leaned in, a translucent creature collided with her.
Wenger fell, holding the culprit—a slime.
The small creature was crystal-clear, faintly pink. Perhaps a variant, it had the intelligence of a six- or seven-year-old. Additionally, it could purify water, a talent the village relied on. This “child” loved water playtime.
“Popo—”
Peach’s playful whine grew happier as Wenger rubbed it.
Together, human and creature continued on.
A Stroll by the Lake
At the village’s edge, the lake shimmered calmly. A graceful figure, topped with a slime, walked along the lakeside path.
She used to fish here often, catching plenty. Later, however, the fish preferred swimming to her feet to stare rather than bite.
Wenger wasn’t upset—why would she be? Instead, she knocked out each fish with a nearby stick and smoked them at home.
Reflecting on it, she really couldn’t finish all that fish.
“Time to go home~”
Tending the Potion Garden
Mist veiled the treetops, the treehouse faintly visible.
For now, she wasn’t returning—her potion plants were in the valley, deeper still.
The rocky terrain darkened, the valley growing eerie.
Wenger followed a familiar, winding path to her potion garden. Chilled winds from distant snowy mountains swept through. Yet, faint beams of light pierced the night, guiding her like an old lighthouse.
She had toiled long to cultivate this garden. Indeed, half her farming life was spent on it. Blood Dew Vines, Moonlit Grass, Tearlight Moss… Each plant’s unique needs required separate care, expanding the garden significantly. Tending it was time-consuming.
Beyond ascension, these potions could create elixirs for health or mana—her lifesaving treasures. If anyone stole them, she’d want to bury them with a hammer.
[Night Moon Lily (Mature) *12]
The drooping flowers glowed coolly under moonlight, the ascension potion she’d awaited. Their light came from these blooms.
Modeled after real lilies, they carried moonlight properties.
Now mature, with [Harvest]’s blessing, her Sorceress ascension was half complete.
[Ascension · Agility: You have glimpsed the path of magic. Strive further. Thirty years condense into a vessel, and the sun and moon will remember your name.]
[Current Progress: 50% (30 years accumulated, Night Moon Lilies collected, Holy Source Crystal × Sun-Moon Rose ×)]
Pondering the missing items, she felt a pang of frustration.
Traveling merchants didn’t stock them, and she loathed going out. Where, then, could she find them…?