Chapter 13: For Real… Tentacles?

“Another bountiful harvest this year!”

“The yield’s even better!”

“Look at the size of those pumpkins they’re hauling back.”

The woman spread her arms wide, gesturing, while everyone around her beamed with genuine smiles. For ordinary folk, a good meal was enough—the most basic need.

[Harvest Points +0.01]

[Harvest Points +0.01]

[…]

The notifications ticked up quietly. Like her heartbeat, pulsing with happiness.

Weng didn’t like hiding in the village. Her ever-present robe already concealed most of her figure, and adding a hood would just seem odd. Thankfully, the villagers were used to spotting a cascade of snow-white hair by the roadside on certain days. She nodded slightly to those who noticed her, exchanging a few casual pleasantries.

Leaving the relief house, her mind wandered. Vik hadn’t mentioned that Dragon Vein Stone could be synthesized into Holy Source Crystal, likely unaware of the requirements for a witch’s advancement. Mentioning the dragon egg was an unexpected gain. Her progression followed the game’s rules, but this world’s native transcendent system might differ entirely from a player’s path. The every-ten-levels tier-up was a game mechanic, and Weng was indeed bound by its restrictions, unable to choose another route. She’d need to ask Vik about it sometime, especially since she’d promised to help him find Dragon Vein Stone yesterday. Truth be told, she was already more than satisfied. Taking another step forward was tough… so she’d take it one step at a time.

Weng looked up, the air tinged with a cold hue, strangely interwoven with the village’s serenity. Passing familiar doorways, she saw an old woman pushing open a window for fresh air. The woman spotted her and spoke shakily, overcome with emotion.

“Milady…”

“It’s been a while, Mrs. Weir.” Weng greeted softly.

The face from memory resurfaced, but it no longer matched this one, etched with time’s wrinkles. Mrs. Weir moved slowly, emerging from the house with an apple, pressing it into Weng’s hand. From the moment she spoke, Weng stood still, waiting as the old woman approached. She didn’t refuse the fruit or say anything. Years ago, the woman’s husband passed, and she’d been enduring alone ever since. Weng often felt a strange pang—people aged before her eyes, yet the vibrant, sunny figure from memory remained vivid. Regretfully, the two images could never align again. It shocked her that this woman, too, was once a lively girl. Unchanged herself, Weng felt the emotion intensify.

“How have you been?”

“Quite well… very good, everyone’s doing fine…” The old woman’s thoughts were no longer clear, but her words carried heartfelt sincerity.

After settling her on a bench, Weng quietly left. Along the way, villagers pressed snacks into her hands, which she accepted and tucked into her bag. On a quieter path, she took a bite of the apple. Bitter, astringent, yet not exactly bad.

A strange noise caught her attention, and she looked over curiously. It was the newly formed militia training alongside Kailos’s small squad. She wasn’t skilled in such things—better to leave it to the professionals.

At the workshop, Weng asked Fenrod for some discarded weapons and gear, claiming a room to avoid interruptions. She tossed the items into the furnace, not intending to forge but to experiment. Infusing magic into the flames, she enveloped the furnace chamber. The items burned fiercely as she extended her mental energy to guide the magic, swiftly grasping at something intangible. An unstable substance, invisible to the naked eye, was pulled out, condensing in midair into a fingertip-sized crystal. She scanned the furnace again, confirming that was all.

“This is too little.” Doubt crept into her mind.

Trying again, she threw in the remaining items, but this time, she couldn’t find that substance. Something was off… In the game, completing tasks yielded rewards, but in this world, she had to consider far more. Decomposing common gear produced colorless crystal shards—that was correct. Was there something in the background she’d overlooked?

Weng examined the item in her hand again, to no avail, then went to Fenrod for details.

“Those were old village gear, plus some recent subpar stuff we piled together,” the blacksmith said, pondering before returning to his work.

That’s odd…

After leaving the workshop, she decided to visit the church—not for Vik, but for Rila. In the backyard, the nun was pruning fruit trees, preparing early for winter. Weng, there to interrupt, promptly set Rila’s task aside.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Sugar cubes?” Rila teased with a smile, unbothered by the sudden disruption.

“Ugh…”

Weng felt a twinge of disappointment. She couldn’t keep bothering Vik—constantly pestering a guest wasn’t polite. But Rila’s tone shifted, unprecedentedly serious. “How did you get this?”

“Um… extracted it from some useless tools and weapons.”

Rila leaned in, studying it closely, then began chanting. Holy power flowed from her, radiant like a river surging outward. The colorless crystal on the table nearly disintegrated in an instant, but Weng reacted quickly, shielding it. Rila said nothing more, pulling Weng into the church.

Weng didn’t even get a chance to ask. On the second floor, Rila pushed open the library door, retrieving a dusty book from the fourth shelf.

“This is it.”

Tucked inside was a piece of parchment. Rila spread it out, pointing to a corner of intricate ancient text.

“Immersion Crystal.”

Weng’s expression shifted slightly. Had she extracted the wrong thing? If it wasn’t the same, then this crystal’s presence here was even stranger. The text on the parchment had an eerie elegance, making it slightly difficult for Weng to read.

“The Otherworld, the shadow of the world. The Church was established to maintain order… The power tainted by this realm is pure yet violent…”

Subspace? After all these years, that feeling of knowledge flooding her mind returned.

“Is it dangerous?” Weng asked, uncertain.

Rila wasn’t sure which she meant.

“The crystal isn’t dangerous—it’s more unstable. I heard about it often in the Church; it’s commonly used in magical devices. The Otherworld, though, is extremely dangerous…

“That realm is vast, its magical creatures entirely different from this world. Even—” Rila’s voice dropped, forcing Weng to lean closer.

“—female transcendents might be trapped forever by tentacles in some corner, reduced to undignified breeding tools, left to die without rescue~~”

“Rila—! Doesn’t that violate Church doctrine?!” Weng’s cheeks flushed slightly as she stood, exasperated. But she wasn’t a girl, so why be afraid? Well, not for centuries, anyway.

“Just being honest. You’re still so rigid.”

Suddenly, a wave of energy swept past them, sending chills down their spines. Their expressions grew serious. Certain guesses converged, pointing to one conclusion. The second attempt failed to produce a crystal due to the raw materials—but not entirely. The apprentices’ substandard gear was mixed in, and their materials could only come from…

The mines were dangerous!