"This is a relatively safe town," Bluenose said, his small hands folded behind his back as he led Dante through the cobbled path lined with glowing mushrooms and swaying purple-leafed trees.
"Purpleleaf is protected within the Fey Realm because it's one of the few towns that supply food. A lot of it. Naturally, no one wants their grain deliveries cursed."
He glanced up at Dante with a meaningful look. "There are inns and taverns that cater to strangers like you, too. Adventurers. Wanderers. People who ask too many questions."
"Thanks," Dante said with a nod. "Is gil the currency here?"
Bluenose nodded enthusiastically. "That's right! Gil is still widely used, but you can also pay with Spirit Energy. The locals here like it a lot. Especially the sprites."
Dante raised a brow. "You can actually pay with that?"
He always thought Spirit Energy was just for replenishing Spirit Energy. That's how it worked in the previous world—nothing more than fuel for skills.
Bluenose suddenly squinted at him, suspicion tightening his whiskered face. "You don't know that? You're not some kind of outlaw in a faraway continent, are you? No offense."
"No offense taken," Dante replied coolly. "But no—I just arrived on this continent, and I've mostly been indoors. Grew up in a small village."
"Ah." Bluenose blinked. "Right. You're one of those adventurers."
Dante only shrugged.
"Anyway," the creature went on hurriedly, "yes, you can harvest SE—Spirit Energy—from plants and fruits, or even from monsters after they die. Remember those little spirit balls floating above the viper corpses back there? You could've harvested those and put them in special crystal containers. They're tradable."
Dante frowned thoughtfully. "I remember . . . when I got close to those orbs, they floated toward me and restored my SE." So he could harvest those?
"If you have SE containers you would have the option to contain them instead of replenishing your SE. The Fey Realm is alive in more ways than one." Bluenose waved his hand dramatically. "Here, even your sweat might be tradable."
Dante paused. "That last part was a joke, right?"
". . . Mostly."
Bluenose adjusted his tiny bag and turned away. "Well, this is where we part. I'm heading back to the Low. That's my hometown. A bit marshy but still home."
"Wait a minute," Dante called before the small creature could hop away.
Bluenose froze mid-step. He turned slowly, fur puffed slightly with unease. "Y-yes?" he asked, ears twitching nervously.
Oh no. Did he change his mind? Does he want to eat me now? I knew humans couldn't be trusted.
"It's already late," Dante said, voice calm but firm. "Where are you planning to sleep tonight?"
"Ah, well . . . I was just going to make the walk home," Bluenose replied weakly, attempting to sound braver than he looked. "I've survived worse—besides, I can run really fast when terrified."
"You'll get eaten before you make it past the berry fields," Dante said flatly. "Stay here tonight. My treat. I'll get you another room at the inn."
Bluenose blinked. Once. Twice. His whole body shook slightly—not with fear this time, but disbelief.
Kindness from a human?
After all he'd seen?
After how many of his kind had been stepped on, burned, or used as bait for bear traps?
"Auhm . . . Are you sure?"
Dante gave a curt nod. "Think of it as thanks for guiding me here. I've still got a lot of questions about this world—and you seem to have answers."
Bluenose rubbed his nose awkwardly, a little squeak escaping him. "T-then . . . I accept your offer. T-thank you."
Inside the inn, Dante was already planning his next move.
He'd sell off a handful of Grassberries—nothing too flashy—while, of course, keeping the Elixirberry for himself.
That one was a rare craft. Who knew what kind of trouble he'd end up in if he showed it? It might come handy in the future, though.
To test the waters, he casually placed a Grassberry on the counter. It was LV.5—not bad, but nothing groundbreaking in his mind.
A decent start, he thought. Normal enough to fly under the radar.
He was wrong.
The innkeeper's eyes bulged so wide Dante thought they were going to pop right out and roll onto the floor.
She was a troll granny. Towering, with broad shoulders and a hunched back that still nearly scraped the ceiling. Her gray hair was stuffed messily under a bonnet, and her apron was stained with decades of cooking.
But it was the large tusk-like teeth jutting from her lower jaw that made her look like she could eat steel for breakfast.
"You—where in the blighted roots did you get this, lad?" she bellowed, jabbing a thick, calloused finger at the berry like it insulted her mother.
Dante blinked. "Uhm . . . Isn't it just a fairly ordinary Grassberry?"
He was trying to play it cool. Keyword: trying.
The troll granny squinted at him like he'd just grown horns. "Ordinary? Ordinary?! That's a LV.5 Grassberry, ya daft sprout! Do you even know what that means?"
Dante shrugged with a poker face. "I don't know . . . that it's . . . healthy?"
Bluenose, who had been quietly nibbling on a biscuit in the corner, nearly choked. "Wait—wait—Are you . . . are you an Alchemist, Dante? I-I mean, sir Dante."
Dante kept a perfectly straight face. "Nope. Just a regular crafter. Found it lying around in the grass. Maybe a beast dropped it."
The innkeeper cackled, waving a wooden spoon the size of a paddle. "Lying around, he says! You can't just stumble on a LV.5! These things don't level up unless they're bred, enchanted, or grown by a high rank farmer. You sure you're not hiding a class, boy?"
Bluenose leaned in, whispering like Dante was some kind of mythical creature. "Food items never level up past 3. Not naturally. Even in dungeons! This is . . . this is weird."
Dante kept his expression flat, though internally, he was absolutely panicking.
Stupid! Rookie mistake! Should've asked Bluenose first!