The adventurer at the bottom is fantasizing again.

Chapter 38 Piper's Adventures in the Misty Forest

The misty forest was much quieter than in late autumn.

When the leaves have all fallen, the wind loses its medium of friction and is left only with a low and short "whoosh" sound as it blows through the branches.

Lorraine crouched down, rubbed a fern leaf frozen to the ground, then flicked the dirt off her fingertips and looked around.

Are you sure this is the right way?

He really didn't know how the little guy could tell directions.

The forest was shrouded in a thin, gray mist, which hung loosely between the tree trunks, like the condensation on a window on a winter morning.

In the thinner parts, you can still see the twisted branches behind, but in the thicker parts, it's all a white blur, and you can't see anything at all.

Piper was standing on an exposed tree root, turning the map over and over, and gesturing with the compass for a long time before finally pointing forward with apparent confidence:

"Over here!"

"You seemed to be talking about that side just now," Lorraine said, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

"That was just now."

Piper jumped down from the tree root without changing his expression, but the ground was too slippery and he almost fell flat on his face.

Fortunately, his center of gravity was low, and he stabilized himself after swinging his arms twice.

"The sun moves, so its direction must move too," he stubbornly insisted.

Lorraine didn't even bother to expose him.

The two had been wandering in the woods for most of the morning without even seeing a trace of fireweed. Fortunately, they had a compass, so they weren't going around in circles.

The short man walked ahead and led the way. He was full of energy and didn't seem tired at all, even after walking for two days. He was humming a little tune that he had heard somewhere.

"A dwarf's hammer can't break it, a halfling's cauldron can't be boiled in it, three human kings have come and gone, and I haven't even finished tying my shoelaces..."

"What did you say fireweed looked like again?" he suddenly asked.

Lorraine rubbed her head as if in pain and replied, "So you didn't remember anything from looking at the illustrations before?"

"Pip saw you taking notes," the little guy whistled.

He said helplessly, "The leaves are red and serrated, shiny with an oily sheen, and they smell like lamp oil."

"Aren't they everywhere? Look how glossy these leaves are..." Piper spotted a patch of low shrubs, reached out to touch it, and immediately pulled his hand back. "Ew... it's slippery."

When Lorraine went over to take a look, the round, thick leaves were still green, and it could be said that they had nothing to do with fireweed.

"Be careful, it might be poisonous. Don't touch it everywhere." He sighed.

The two walked in the direction Piper pointed for about an hour, and the light in the forest gradually dimmed.

"ah!"

Piper jumped up from the ground.

"Zheng—"

Lorraine swiftly pulled out the rusty throat, took two quick steps forward to catch up with him, and followed his gaze.

A snake as thick as an arm was coiled in a pile of dead leaves. Its grayish-brown scales were almost indistinguishable from the leaves. If it hadn't raised its head and flicked its tongue, it would have been completely invisible.

"Hiss hiss hiss—"

It glared angrily at Piper, its coiled body wriggled, and then it sprang up from the ground and lunged at Piper.

A cold light flashed.

The snake's head separated from its body and fell to the ground with a "thud".

The rusty throat, coated with sword oil, was very smooth. Lorraine simply flicked it, and blood splattered onto the ground from the tip of the sword.

"We can have an extra meal tonight."

He pulled out a dagger, cut open the snake's belly, removed all its internal organs, and then wiped away the bloodstains.

Finally, he coiled the snake up tightly and stuffed it into the back pocket of his backpack.

"I just don't know if snakeskin is worth anything. Try peeling it off later."

The short man nudged the snake's head with his foot, then breathed a sigh of relief, "That scared Piper half to death."

Lorraine raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You're afraid of snakes?"

Given this shorty's wild fighting style, this shouldn't be the case.

"Pip thought it was a tree root, but who knew it would suddenly move when he stepped on it!" the short guy said irritably.

No wonder it bit you.

Lorraine swept the pile of fallen leaves with her rusty throat to make sure there was nothing else hidden inside, then stood up and said, "Let's go."

"Do you think there are any other snakes in the woods?"

"nonsense."

"..."

"Stop jumping around there, walk carefully."

After walking for another half hour, the terrain began to slope downwards, and tree roots emerged from the soil, lying haphazardly in the air.

Piper suddenly stopped, raised his hand to signal Lorraine to leave, and said warily, "Shh...did you hear me?"

Lorraine pricked up her ears.

The branches beside me creaked and groaned as they contracted from the cold, and nearby, snow slid down from the branches to the ground with a soft "plop."

"Gurgle—gurgle—"

A very faint sound, like wet mud sliding off the wall, was mixed in.

"There it is," Piper whispered a reminder.

He pointed to a tree to their left front.

Lorraine followed the gaze.

A grayish-green thing was wriggling on the tree trunk, leaving a damp trail in its wake, emitting a faint white steam.

This thing had no fixed shape, which reminded Lorraine of the slimes she often saw in video games in her previous life, only a disgusting version.

"By the Goddess! It looks like the vomit of a dwarf who's drunk." Piper scoffed.

Lorraine exclaimed in surprise, "You actually have a god you believe in? This is the first time I've heard you mention it."

"All halflings worship the goddess, who is our creator! Besides, don't you humans worship even more gods?" the dwarf retorted.

Piper is right. Humans believe in all sorts of random gods, and some even worship the guardian deities of other races. I don't know what they're thinking.

However, if it's useful, Lorraine doesn't mind believing in anything; he's always been a pragmatist.

Although I feel that the gods probably don't really like pragmatists...

"You halflings and dwarves have a pretty good relationship, don't you?"

"That's not because they have anything to do with their vomit!"

"Shh! It seems to have heard us!"

The thing seemed to have heard their whispers and slowly turned toward them.

"Is it watching us?" the short man asked in surprise.

"It obviously doesn't have eyes."

"What is it looking at?!"

Lorraine didn't have time to answer because the thing had already sprung up from the tree trunk and was lunging at him.

He was truly sorry, old friend... He silently apologized to the rusty throat.

He then quickly dodged to the side, and the tip of his sword pierced the dwarf's vomit that had fallen to the ground, embedding itself in the middle.