Chapter 60: Putting Feelings Into a Moment, Part 8
Author’s Note: My backlog is... well, daily updates are my last line of defense, but if the word count starts shrinking, you'll know what's up.
There was something that had been bugging me for a long time: the difference in how skills grow.
Take Repel Counter, for example. It used to be a parrying skill called Flash Counter, and after leveling up enough, it evolved into Just Parry before finally changing into its current form. But on the flip side, some skills never change their name — they just keep tacking on "Lv. X" at the end.
I'd assumed that was just how the system worked and never thought much about it. But according to Oikatzo, naturally acquired skills actually come in two types: those that evolve and those that level up.
Skills of the latter type — the ones that gain proficiency without evolving into something else — can be combined at a facility called the Skill Gardener, found in every town. Two level-up-type skills can be merged into a single new combination skill.
As an example, Oikatzo brought up how he'd combined the fighter-type skill Power Straight with Critical Assist — which boosts critical hit rate — to create Knockouter, a skill that adds a chance of a stun effect on critical hits.
And that's not all. The Skill Gardener also sells skill manuals that tell you how close a skill is to leveling up or evolving, guidebooks that explain exactly what actions to take to learn a skill naturally, and more... God, I... honestly, if I could rewind time back to when I started this game, I would PK my level-10 self and drag that idiot's corpse straight to Firstia.
Sunraku: "To put it mildly... I feel like someone who just found out they've been swinging a bat bare-handed instead of, you know, using the bat."
Oikatzo: "That analogy's kind of nonsense, but I get what you're feeling. It's like when I realize I've been missing the optimal combo."
Oikatzo threw me some words of comfort as I stared blankly at the ceiling, but that wasn't quite it... It's more like having a sniper rifle and firing it without ever using the scope... aaaaaaaaaaah.
Sunraku: "Aaaaaaaaaah..."
Emul: "Sunraku-san, are you alright...wa?"
Sunraku: "Let me fluff you for a second."
Emul: "Eh? Pyah?!"
Clutching the fluffy, fuzzy bunny to my chest, I forced my thoughts in a more positive direction — searching for things that might actually console me.
First: with my current skill lineup, I only had two skills that could even be combined. Which meant even if I'd known about the Skill Gardener from the start, I wouldn't have gotten much use out of it anyway. This didn't exactly solve the whole "I skipped the tutorial and massively screwed up" issue, but as far as the actual impact went... it was some small comfort.
Emul: "Fyah— it tickles...wa!"
Second: the timing. I found out before the Wethermon fight. At the very least, I'd be spared the humiliation of facing Wethermon while unknowingly gimping myself — an unconscious soft-throw I hadn't even realized I was committing.
Emul: "N-not the ears...wa! The eeeeeears!"
Third: knowing the Skill Gardener existed in every town. That meant Rabituza — which, hidden area or not, had all the facilities of a normal town — would have one too.
For a facility tied so deeply to a core game system like skills, you'd normally expect a constant stream of two or three players hanging around. Going to a place like that is honestly tough for me. I'm pretty sick of skulking around hiding when I don't even have anything to hide. But even more than that, getting grilled about Emul or Lycagon's "curse" is just a giant pain. If I can use the one in Rabituza, nothing could be better.
Oikatzo: "Hey, Sunraku-kun. Emul-chan's turning into some kind of indescribable blob-rabbit, so maybe snap out of it."
Sunraku: "Hm?"
I glanced down and found Emul — practically steaming from the head — collapsed in a limp, boneless heap that could only be described as... gudenyu... something.
Emul: "Kyuuu..."
Sunraku: "She looks like a cat that's melted into a puddle."
Emul: "I am not a cat...wa! I am a Vorpal Bunny...wa!"
Oh, she's back.
Oikatzo: "By the way, what about sub-jobs, guilds, that kind of thing..."
Sunraku: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
Emul: "PYAAAAAAAAAAAHHH?!"
Just how much have I been MISSING?!
When you've made a huge mistake, when you feel your spirit about to snap — how do you keep your mental balance?
Personally, the easiest method is: shut off your brain and throw yourself into repetitive work. It's arguably more of a bad move than a good one — you're running from the problem and nothing gets solved. But for me, right now, it was the best option.
So I fished. Fished and fished and fished and fished. And when the bait lured out an eel, I hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted until I'd hunted it down. I nearly died a few times. I rescued the bonito bastard when he nearly died a few times. Before we knew it, the level gap with the Lifestide Lake Serpent had shrunk, and both Oikatzo and I had its attack patterns memorized...
And then, night came.
Pencilgon: "Hmm... by my estimate, I thought you'd need at least two more days. But you're already level 40? You two are living a little too fast, don't you think?"
Oikatzo: "No... that idiot... was escaping reality..."
Pencilgon: "Escaping reality by playing Shangri-La Frontier, and then escaping further? Where exactly are you escaping to?"
Sunraku: "Yeah, well... I might have pushed things a bit too hard."
Combined score between the two of us: seventy-four Lifestide Salmon, six Lifestide Lake Serpents. I was level 42; Oikatzo was level 40. That was today's tally — the result of me (and Oikatzo, who got dragged along for the ride, plus Emul occasionally) doing nothing but salmon fishing and eel hunting to flee from reality.
Pencilgon: "Even with simple attack patterns, the Lifestide Lake Serpent should've averaged around level 45. I'm honestly impressed you took them down."
Sunraku: "What? Our Emul-san here is level 56, y'know."
Oikatzo: "When things got dicey, Emul-chan was seriously, absurdly strong..."
Toward the end, we'd fought with just the two of us since splitting the EXP made it less efficient, but even so — without Emul, one of us would definitely have died.
Pencilgon: "You two really are idiots... in both the good and bad senses of the word. Well, never mind. Come on, up, up. Tonight's a full moon... I'm taking you to accept the EX Unique Scenario."
Sunraku: "...Can we log out first?"
Pencilgon: "No. That save-tent is stupidly expensive and has a usage limit, you monster of an item! And we're kind of pressed for time here!"
Where Oikatzo's mournful gaze fell, a rectangular cloth structure sat in state — the kind of tent you'd use for leisure camping... except made with medieval materials! Or so it seemed.
This so-called "instant save-point item that even no-lifers can't just buy in bulk" was an item that, within the game systems of Shangri-La Frontier — where logging out was normally only possible on a bed in a town or a base like Rabituza — allowed you, as an exception, to save even in monster-spawning areas.
Sunraku: "Later towns really do have all the convenient items..."
That said, it came with a limited number of uses — saving, or setting it as a fast-travel destination via Teleport, each counted toward that limit. And it offered no protection against monster attacks. So unless you had a very compelling reason, it was apparently both safer and cheaper to just Teleport back to a proper base and save there.
Fortunately, this hidden area supposedly spawned no enemy mobs unless you kept fishing up salmon and luring out the Lake Serpent, so we could relax as much as we wanted.
Sunraku: "So a little rest wouldn't exactly hu— ow."
Pencilgon's reply came in the form of a scroll — transferred via the trade system — flung silently into my face.
Even at night, the moss clinging to the walls of the Prismatic Forest Grotto apparently had no concept of dimming its light. The grotto remained as bright as midday as three people and one bunny pressed onward.
Sunraku: "Still, it stings a little personally. Finding out there was actually a hidden area in a zone I'd already cleared..."
Pencilgon: "It's a time-specific hidden area, so it's pure RNG. Can't be helped if you missed it. Yep."
Easy for the person who found it to say. Meanwhile, Oikatzo's chronic condition had flared up again: "Man, a Unique... I wanna find one on my own..." The conclusion was to just leave him be.
Pencilgon: "On the night of a full moon, among all the glowing moss growing on the walls of the Prismatic Forest Grotto... there's one tiny patch that goes dark. Search that spot and..."
As Pencilgon pressed her hand against it, the lightless moss — hidden by the glare of the surrounding moss — crumbled away. Beyond it appeared a dark passage, just barely tall enough not to bump your head, free of moss.
Sunraku: "How did anyone even notice this?"
This area was like an entire forest crammed into a cave — ridiculously vast. Within it, among moss packed thick across the walls... in other words, with light sources covering the entire wall, you'd have to pick out a single spot that wasn't lit. Deliberately finding that seemed nearly impossible...
Pencilgon: "I did find it, but honestly? Pure luck. I stumbled on it while farming items here."
Sunraku: "See, Oikatzo? Unique discovery is all RNG. Pray to the heavens."
Oikatzo: "...Quit it with that look or I'll deck you, asshole."
Hey now — what kind of insolence is this toward my "gaze of a sovereign emperor peering down from the heavens with pity and mercy at the whimpering of the wretched masses crawling upon the earth"? That's disrespect. Lèse-majesté.
Pencilgon: "Honestly, you two start your comedy routine at the drop of a hat. Come on — weapons in your inventory. Let's go."
Emul: "Wow... this is quite a sight."
Pencilgon: "Even without the Unique, I just love this area."
The dark passage — apparently an uphill slope — continued for several minutes. When we finally emerged through an exit where faint light spilled in, a vast space blanketed in red flowers spread out before us.
Looking up, there was no cave ceiling. A full moon — rounder and larger than any in the real world — poured its light down onto this field of red blossoms, carried on the night breeze. The ground wasn't floating. The scene wasn't physically impossible. It was the kind of view you could probably recreate in reality with a bit of effort. Yet, for some reason, it felt more fantastical than anything I'd ever seen.
Emul: "What pretty flowers...wa!"
Red spider lilies. I'd never seen them in real life, but in low-fantasy games they were a common motif for a specific theme... namely, an allusion to death.
Pencilgon: "Come on, let's go. Setsu-chan's waiting."
Pencilgon walked on without a shred of hesitation, trampling the red spider lilies underfoot — which confirmed this wasn't a trap. Following her lead, we pressed forward until a lone dead tree came into view. And beneath that dead tree... a woman?
Emul: "Sh-she's see-through...wa!"
Oikatzo: "She really is. A bug, maybe?"
Pencilgon: "Why is your first instinct 'bug' and not 'intended behavior'...?"
That was a trash-game joke, good grief... Still, judging by Pencilgon's demeanor, this translucent woman was undoubtedly the NPC we were here to meet: Setsuna of Bygone Days.
Pencilgon: "Well, well, Setsu-chan. It's been a month."
Setsuna: "Oh my... Arthur. It has been a while."
I'd assumed a ghost would be more ephemeral — something that might fray at the edges, vanish with a breath of wind. But her speech was surprisingly crisp, and she wore a clear smile. Though she was so faint the scenery behind her was visible through her body, the short-haired NPC Setsuna of Bygone Days smiled warmly at Pencilgon.
But something else caught my attention — something more mundane.
Sunraku: "Hmm... Emul."
Emul: "What is it...wa?"
Sunraku: "Do you recognize the clothes she's wearing?"
Emul: "Hmm... nothing comes to mind...wa..."
Didn't think so. That ghost woman's clothing was strikingly devoid of fantasy aesthetics. It wasn't made from plant or animal fibers, nor from hide or carapace. It was closer to uniform mass-production — yet with a subtle air of refinement. The sense of déjà vu I felt... yes, it was something that belonged more to science-fantasy than anything else.
Sunraku: "So this is the 'Age of the Gods' stuff."
The "Age of the Gods" — a concept carrying immense weight within the world of Shangri-La Frontier. Essentially an ancient, lost civilization. A Unique Scenario involving a character tied to that era... I'd already suspected as much the moment words like "missiles" and "lasers" got thrown around for the horse. But now? I felt my motivation surge.
Pencilgon turned toward us, a fearless grin on her face.
Pencilgon: "Let me introduce you, Setsu-chan. These two idiots are my trump cards. They're here to send that man... Wethermon... to his final rest."
At that introduction, Setsuna's eyes fell on me and Oikatzo — an expression caught halfway between hope and sorrow, a look I didn't quite have words for.
Author’s Notes: