"Caw!"
Morning.
With a clear cry like two bits of metal striking together, the glossy black raven dropped out of the sky.
Gauss casually sliced off a piece of meat from the provisions and tossed it to Echo.
Echo snapped it up, swallowed in one gulp.
Its return meant the letter had been delivered to the Adventurer's Guild.
Gauss quietly let out a breath.
For an adventurer, the less you get involved in things outside your actual job, the better—especially messy right-and-wrong situations like this.
Do too much, and people may not even acknowledge the good you've done.
He turned his gaze back to the magic pot in front of him.
Ever since he'd gotten this thing, his interest in cooking had been rekindled. He still hadn't gotten over the "new toy" phase.
"Three pounds of cucumber, scrape the seeds and slice thin; ten pounds of chicken breast, cut into fine shreds along the grain; a handful of soaked mountain mushrooms, squeeze out the water and set aside…"
One hand held a simple parchment cookbook, the other moved with practiced ease.
Once he'd put in all the ingredients per the recipe, Gauss picked up a ladle and stirred steadily.
Very soon, the magic within the pot began to work. Pale violet vapors slowly rose from within.
Every time he used this pot, he felt less like a cook and more like a wizard brewing a potion.
Steam rolled up, and before long, a mouthwatering aroma spread through the misty forest clearing.
"Gauss, that smells amazing!"
Albena walked out of the house, sniffed the air and wandered over.
"Go wash up, then we'll eat."
She produced a jug of alcohol from who-knew-where.
"Gauss, want a drink? This is some of my best stuff."
Gauss blinked.
Apparently, now that they were closer, Albena was letting her tomboy side show more and more.
"I'll pass. You enjoy it," he said with a laugh, shaking his head.
Drinking first thing in the morning, huh.
Given her monstrous constitution, though, a few swigs really wouldn't matter.
"Abby, little sis, you want a sip?"
Albena turned around, just in time to see Abby inching her way out the doorway, one hand braced on the frame.
Faced with the "giant" who completely blocked out her view, Abby shrank her neck a little, too scared to outright refuse, and instead glanced nervously at Gauss for help.
"Albena, don't corrupt the kid."
"Abby, come on, let's get breakfast."
Gauss waved her over. Abby instantly relaxed and made her way toward him in small, careful steps.
Seeing how unsteady she still was, Gauss didn't get up to help. He simply dragged a wooden chair closer to her.
"Thank you."
Abby sat beside him, breathing in the smell of food, and suddenly felt… safe.
"Your father awake?"
"He is. Uncle Snake said he wants to check him over again, told me to come out first."
Abby nodded.
Soon, everyone else trickled out and sat around the pot to wait for breakfast.
York looked much better already. His eyes were clearer now, though not fully lucid, and he hadn't recovered normal speech. But the manic agitation was gone; he just clung tightly to Abby's hand and refused to let go.
"All right, dig in."
Gauss ladled out food for everyone one by one.
Soon, they were all eating eagerly.
"Mmm!"
"This is so good…"
Plain ingredients, but under the magic pot's treatment, they became something far beyond themselves.
Not just the rich aroma—once the food reached their stomachs, warmth spread through their bodies, especially comfortable in the cool early-autumn air.
Gauss set his bowl down.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abby's eyes turning red. Two clear streaks slid down her cheeks.
What now?
He hadn't put anything spicy in it…
"Not to your taste?"
"No, it's fine, Gauss." Abby quickly wiped away her tears.
"I just… didn't think I'd ever get to sit and eat with Father again."
"Thank you, sir."
Gauss exhaled softly and smiled, genuinely pleased.
…
Full and content, spirits restored, they hit the road again.
To make travel easier for Abby and York, Gauss had thrown together a simple cart from the nearby trees.
Silver Wolf Ulfen acted as the draft beast, pulling the cart with the father and daughter aboard.
"Ulfen going to be okay?"
"He'll be fine. It'll help burn off some weight," Alia said with a wave. "If I've got the timing right, the folks from Fisher's Song have probably arrived at Herb Village by now. I wonder how they'll deal with the chief."
She clearly hadn't stopped thinking about the last village.
"Alia, you're on the verge of a breakthrough, aren't you?" Gauss had already mentally moved on from the Herb Village situation. He glanced her up and down on her chocobo and tossed out the question.
"How did you know?" Alia blinked.
She hadn't told him—she'd actually been planning to surprise him. And now he'd just… called it out.
"Just a feeling."
Gauss smiled.
"Gauss…" Alia hesitated, then spoke up.
"What is it?" He waited, but when she stayed silent, he tilted his head at her, puzzled.
"I… I've been having the same kind of dream these past few days," Alia said, biting her lip. She hadn't intended to mention it—it wasn't exactly urgent—but since they'd brought up her breakthrough, she wasn't sure if these changes were good or bad. She might as well ask him while they were on the topic.
"Dreams? The same dream?" Gauss perked up.
Even for professionals, that wasn't common.
A repeated, similar dream… was it some kind of signal about what was happening in her body?
"What's it about? A nightmare?" he asked.
"No." Alia shook her head.
Dreaming the same thing night after night, even she had realized something was off. She began describing it to him.
"It's not a nightmare."
"Every time I fall asleep, I dream I'm in a place drenched in moonlight. It's…"
Her voice softened into confusion, a bit dazed, like just by talking about it she was slipping back into that unreal scene.
Gauss watched her out of the corner of his eye, thoughtful, but didn't interrupt.
"It's wide. Really wide. But so… empty. Under my feet is silver-gray sand, above me is this giant moon that's unbelievably huge—so big it fills almost half the sky. It gives off this soft glow."
"The moonlight's really bright, but it doesn't hurt your eyes. It just lights everything up so clearly. But there's nothing there. No trees, no people. Just endless sand. It's so quiet it's scary."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"And then… I don't know where it comes from, but suddenly there's a seed in my hand. Tiny, like a glowing pearl. Warm. And in the dream, there's this voice—or maybe more like a feeling—telling me to plant it."
"So… you plant a tree in your dream?" Gauss asked gently.
"Yeah." Alia nodded, frowning slightly.
"It's a really weird dream. I can't cast spells in there. I don't have tools. So I just dig with my hands in the sand. I put the seed in, cover it up, and then…"
"And then? Did it grow?" Gauss pressed.
"The first time, no." Alia shook her head.
"I just sat there next to where I buried it, looking at that patch of sand, wondering if it would sprout. And then the dream ended."
"But the second night, when I fell asleep, I had the same dream again. Same place, same seed spot. Only this time, I saw a tiny little sprout poking out."
"The next few nights, I found water nearby and carried some over to pour on it. The more I did that, the faster it grew."
The actual content sounded peaceful, even dull—no monsters, no big revelations. Just a girl planting a seed and waiting.
Alia glanced up at Gauss, blue eyes anxious.
"What do you think it is? Just some weird dream? Or… does it have something to do with my breakthrough? I've never had such a long, continuous, vivid dream before."
"And honestly, I don't think I've told you this, but… I almost never dream. Ever."
Gauss went quiet, thinking.
It really didn't sound normal.
He didn't dream often himself, but he had dreams once in a while. For her to go from never dreaming to having the same structured dream over and over… planting a seed under an impossibly huge moon… and timed right when she was about to level up…
Call it intuition, but this had the flavor of something higher-level involved.
He remembered his own nightmare—later confirmed by the lake spirit to be related to some unknown being—and couldn't help feeling Alia's situation might be in the same category.
"From the sound of it, it doesn't seem like a bad thing," he said slowly.
If this were his old world, he'd chalk it up to stress. But this was a world where gods and strange entities existed.
Some god—or nature spirit—taking an interest in this little druid wasn't exactly far-fetched.
"Just keep planting," Gauss said. "When we reach the next city, we'll see if there's anyone who can take a look at you—maybe some kind of specialist."
"Or better yet, once we figure out what's going on at the snow mountain for the lake goddess and come back to Blue Lake for the actual blessing, I'll ask her about it for you."
Alia nodded.
She actually wasn't that worried. She just felt better telling Gauss about anything unusual.
And honestly, even if he hadn't said anything, she planned to keep planting that tree in her dreams.
Most druids loved planting trees. Or rather, "planting" was just the surface act—the deeper meaning was healing the land and restoring balance.
Alia wasn't fanatical about it, but she still liked the feeling.
Sleep was going to happen anyway. Might as well have something meaningful to do in those dreams.
…
Swish!
A few wooden arrows whistled out of the trees.
Gauss flicked them aside without even breaking stride.
Before the goblins who'd shot them could react, Shadow's split body slid serpent-like along the ground and rose up behind them.
Shunk!
A ring of shadow spikes erupted up through their chests.
Hot blood splattered onto the loam, and the little green figures crumpled.
"Goblin Slain × 6."
In the wagon, Abby quietly turned her face away.
"Total Monster Kill: 9,655."
"Don't pity them," Gauss said calmly beside her. "They're here to take our lives. If we weren't stronger, the ones lying there would be us."
Abby's talent for magic was beyond question—Megan wouldn't have selected her as a new vessel otherwise.
But talent wasn't everything. To become a real professional, mental toughness mattered too.
"I understand, sir Gauss." Abby nodded.
She was only twelve, but in this world, people grew up fast. And after what she'd gone through, she was far stronger than most kids her age.
"I won't be afraid."
Her eyes hardened, even as her hands trembled slightly.
"I'll teach you magic," Gauss said softly.
Megan hadn't just kidnapped her for fun—she'd overclocked Abby's magical potential, forcing it to awaken early.
That potential had to be trained now, or it would become a curse.
If it wasn't channeled and shaped, that boiling power would twist her from within, forming snarled knots of mana and mutating her body—or worse, turning her into a walking magic bomb.
In natural circumstances, what Megan had done almost never happened.
"Abby, can you read?" he asked.
"I can." Abby nodded.
Her father had been the village teacher. Of course she could.
"Good."
Gauss fished a Light cantrip scroll from his bag.
"Try reading this and see if you can work it out yourself first."
He handed the spellbook to Abby.
Light was one of the gentler cantrips. For safety's sake, he didn't start her with attack spells.
And he was pretty sure she'd get it.
With his "Enlightenment" spell backing her up, it wasn't a question of if—just how fast.
Gauss watched her curl up in the wagon, the book in her hands, hair still smelling faintly of medicinal herbs, and couldn't help nodding inwardly.
Sometimes misfortune carried opportunity in its jaws.
Yes, being snatched by a witch and locked in a cellar for half a month was cruel—but that ordeal had also forcibly awakened her latent talent and shoved her early into understanding how much power mattered.
She might very well become a genius mage someday.
Looking at her, his thoughts drifted to his first little apprentice, Rhein.
How was that kid doing?
Before he left, he'd filled a whole stack of notebooks for her, along with spell primers and notes. It should be enough to keep her busy for a while.
"Maybe once we're done with the snow mountain business and I've collected my reward from the lake spirit, I'll swing back and check on her," he murmured to himself.
He still remembered the way she'd stared at him from a distance that last day, reluctant and trying not to cry.
He kind of missed the little gremlin.
By then, he thought, looking ahead down the road, he'd likely be at the Master tier already.