Chapter 19: Premonition
Game vs. Reality
Undoubtedly, the world was real. Game settings only offered rough guidance. Weng increasingly realized how much she still had to learn. Conducting a simple test, she tossed a colorless crystal some distance away. Her mental probe confirmed it didn’t revert to its unstable state. Though unclear if [Affinity] used mental energy as a medium, she ruled out one guess. Whether this was an advancement material remained unconfirmed. At worst, another refinement would cost time. One task down, then. Left were Holy Source Crystal and Sun-Moon Rose. Holy Source Crystal awaited Dragon Vein Stone. But potions posed many challenges… Their maturation took too long. Weng suspected her approach was wrong. From a gameplay perspective, long waits hurt engagement. A mainline advancement like this felt off, even for one path among many. Perhaps this path required a unique trigger. A plot item, loot, or special side quest?
Stagnation and Choices
Feeling dejected, Weng pondered her options. Stuck here, how could she find such items? Safety once drove her; now, safety was uncertain. Should she leave? Hard to say—she was nostalgic. Yet, the situation felt manageable. Leaving her comfort zone was tough. Venturing out now seemed disastrous. Beyond Aiden’s domain, options were scarce. Vik? They weren’t close. Despite mutual rescues, she hesitated to trade on that. Transactions needed tangible value. She had little to offer and didn’t want to squander their bond. Not quite friendship, but Weng hadn’t met someone she could talk to in ages. Maple Whisper Village had merchants and newcomers. New faces abounded. Yet, she shared no common ground with them.
Isolation Amid Familiarity
Whether in cultivation or life, a subtle divide had formed. Villagers were familiar yet distant. Closeness didn’t bridge core differences. Not treated as an outsider, but her long life shaped unique perspectives. The more she empathized, the harder it was to console. Thus, Rhine became her proxy. Rila, long here, studied holy knowledge. Their overlap was minimal. Weng couldn’t wield holy magic. No matter how much they talked, it was just imagination. Sighing softly, the girl felt unworthy. Utterly unworthy…
Morning Haze
Morning fog gradually lifted, but the sky stayed overcast. Vey checked the potion garden. She’d slacked on her teacher’s assignments for ages. Weng hadn’t noticed. A bad premonition nudged her to catch up. Teacher’s potions were numerous. Identifying them went beyond names, traits, or properties. Judging maturity required assessing growth and magical essence. Vey knew basics like Dewvine and Moonflower—common, effective herbs. But crafting potions? That was Weng’s domain. Clumsy, Vey learned basic magic and slacked off. Unlike Claude, who studied tirelessly. ‘He’s so strong!’
A Jolt of Instinct
Returning to the treehouse, Weng’s heart skipped inexplicably. Not fearing Vey might ruin a plant, she blamed her recent worries. Storing the crystal safely, she listed priorities on paper. Colorless crystal, potions… Dragon Vein Stone was out of her hands. Oh, and pumpkin pie. Pinning the paper to the board, she nodded, satisfied. Checking the light outside, it wasn’t late. Packing lightly, she headed to the lake. Masters needed no gear—only amateurs carried excess. Five minutes later… “So—you brought just a rod?” Vik’s restrained expression betrayed disbelief. ‘Do true masters skip bait? A realm beyond comprehension?’ “What else?” Weng nodded calmly—fish would bite willingly. She hadn’t brought bait but had her inventory. Reasonable for a player, right? Explaining it, though, was a hassle, so she didn’t. More crucially, it wouldn’t help.
Fishing Fiasco
Ten minutes passed; her hook’s water stayed still. Nearby, Vik’s wait was equally fruitless. He enjoyed the process. The weather was pleasant, red maples a delight. Yet, something felt off. By noon, with the sun at its peak, Vik noted only early catches. Since Weng arrived, nothing stirred. He glanced at her, meditating mid-fish. Guessing no harvest today, she dozed off. Drool nearly escaped in front of him. ‘No nest, no catch—obvious, right?’ Rubbing her eyes, she yawned widely. Splashes sounded below. Oh— On her stool, chin propped, she watched fish swarm the shallows. Her hook? Not a nibble. No net either—what a pity. ‘They’re not mocking me, are they?’ Surely [Affinity] was sneakily at work again ╭(╯^╰)╮!
Empty Fullness
Cooler weather should spark appetite. But she felt drained. The exhaustion of striking out. Yet, losing fueled addiction—the initial thrill was fulfilling. Back at the treehouse, she lay staring at the ceiling’s decor. Fullness gave way to bloated emptiness. Life felt too hollow. Those “blessings”—[Harvest], [Affinity], [Holiness]… And perhaps [Eternal Life]? Feeling no passage of time, watching lives fade powerlessly. Was that a blessing? Avoiding memories kept them at bay. Thus, she mastered emptying her mind and meditating. Still, she sought interests. Doing nothing was akin to death. A cheerful call came from outside. Rising eagerly, she held a small hope.
A Pumpkin Surprise
Vey shouted from below the treehouse. Weng, just up, leaned on the railing, still languid. Her white slip barely covered her soft shoulders. Vey hugged a massive pumpkin, nearly hiding her face. “What’s that? Set it down!” A breeze, like an invisible hand, lifted the pumpkin’s base. Vey felt instant relief.