Chapter 68 - Chapter 70

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 70

Chapter Title: Whispering Silver Grass

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"So, we're moving again?"

"That's the plan. Gotta hustle if we want to get back to the rest area and take a break."

Han So-hee nodded in understanding.

"I'll be back, Ha-na."

"Okay! Come back safe!"

The Saintess trotted over with a bright smile.

I stroked her head, telling her to take care. She beamed back with a face full of pure joy.

'Our sunny Saintess is the best for some healing just by looking at her.'

Next to her, the 150cm hime-cut little one was tiptoeing, begging for her turn.

"Be good, Sera. Big bro's heading out."

"Mm-hmm!"

And the last one. I approached Shin Seo-yeon, flashed a grin, and whispered just for her ears.

"Your onahole's master will be back soon."

"W-what? Are you insane? Calling someone an onahole?"

Still, I patted her butt, and she shivered with a flushed face before replying.

"C-come back safe. Don't get hurt. I'll... I'll have all three holes ready for whenever we meet again..."

Hah, who could've guessed? The Crimson Flame Witch talking so crudely. The first-timers would faint if they saw this.

I playfully ruffled Shin Seo-yeon's hair and headed for the entrance.

Then something clicked, and I turned back to Han So-hee.

"So-hee, mind lending me your sword?"

"Hm? This one?"

I had a feeling I'd need it.

I nodded and unbuckled the sword at my waist, handing it to her.

"This one's holy attribute."

"Right, you mentioned aerial mobs too. If holy only adds damage to dark types like you said, it'd be tough with that."

Han So-hee agreed readily, taking my sword and giving me her [Giant Slayer].

"So, when do you think you'll summon us? Even a rough estimate would let us pack and prepare."

"Not today. Sometime after lunch tomorrow. Be ready by 14:00. Tents down, set for instant move. Don't forget night watch."

She nodded.

Sharp as she was from a chaebol family, this much should suffice.

Preparations done. Time for my second goal here.

The sun blazed down just past noon, radiating fierce heat.

It felt strange.

High up where the wind howled and the air chilled, yet the intense sunlight drew beads of sweat rolling across my skin.

'Just cliffs and ocean as far as the eye can see.'

Even gazing far out, only water. Looking left and right, nothing but rock. No clue how massive this cliff face was.

'Anyway...'

"Uwaaaaaaaaagh!"

Someone plummeted past from above, screaming.

A bloodied man.

His wounds looked like sharp talons gripping and slashing—not deep, but enough to distract and hinder a climber.

'Guess they're starting to show.'

I looked up, squinting past the glaring sun. A monster's silhouette emerged.

'Harpies.'

Humanoid females with uncanny likeness to women.

Differences: wings instead of arms, chicken talons(?) below the knees.

Like sirens, only females exist, so during mating season, they hunt males of other races for seed.

But their method was gruesome.

Harpies stalk from on high, then swoop, snatch prey, drag it up, and drop it.

'To leave them half-dead.'

If one drop fails, two, three, four... until the prey twitches helplessly on death's door.

Then, as the manhood throbs for final offspring, they mount, mate, and steal the seed.

I'd seen plenty of players die that way.

'If prey's scarce, they take turns milking it dry.'

Afterward, they produce fertilized eggs(?).

I snapped from old memories and scanned the skies again. Several harpies circled. They seemed low-tier from their patterns.

'Brings back memories. There was a harpy craze once—everyone hunted and sold them.'

Catch a pretty-faced one for stress relief, pimp it out for cash, or straight sell.

Direct player trades or via slave markets.

Higher trials had smart harpies fluent in speech—ironically better as onaholes were the dumb ones.

Higher trials meant stronger mobs. Shove it in and thrust; if the harpy climaxes and clamps, your dick could snap.

'So the best for safe use are the low-tier ones circling overhead now.'

Of course, no capture system yet this early.

"Uwaaaaaaaaagh!"

"S-stop! Get off me, you bitches! Let go! Aaaagh!"

'Totally helpless.'

Harpies are weak.

Especially tiny ones under 140cm—even a surprise attack from two or three is a cakewalk with 15 Strength.

'No weapons on anyone.'

Newbies desperate to survive ditched gear to lighten loads.

Note: My 20 Strength minimum assumed carrying a weapon. Ditch it, and you could climb with less.

'But who keeps gear in that panic?'

Talk about trials living up to the name. Ruthlessly culling the unprepared into death's trash bin.

"Agh! Ack! N-no. Save me! Aaaaaaaaaaagh!"

In the end, unarmed climbers fell to harpy assaults. Some got eaten alive after desperate holds.

The lucky ones scrambled up during distractions.

'As rumored, hunting starts around 700 meters.'

I watched a bit longer, then glanced around. Fresh witnesses to aerial mobs gulped dryly, frozen in fear.

A few had weapons, but even they hesitated.

'Survival to here: about 30%. Through those attacks to the top: 10% overall.'

...That's how 180,000 died.

Upside: no [Human Hunters] here. Still, 10% survival... truly the worst second trial.

I watched more, then shifted my gaze sideways.

'Can't see up top with interference.'

I sidled along the cliff. Truth was, my second goal was specific—that's why I left the group safe and roamed.

Climbing along, I spotted a small grass clinging stubbornly to rock roots.

'There it is.'

Silver leaves with a sky-blue sheen.

At night, a faint blue glow—eerie luminous grass.

Thin stem rustling like silver bells in wind; three rolled leaf-petals unique.

Carefully harvested, and info popped up.

'No one knew its value yet.'

Boosts potion potency massively—priceless.

Common ingredients hit limits; this leaps past.

'Once alchemy advances and its worth spreads, price skyrockets.'

Unobtainium.

Top-tier coin among herbs. Sells for 1 point per root at next rest area—later, 100,000 each.

Harvest tons now, rake in fortunes.

'With the Frost Plains accessories back at base plus this silver grass, short- and long-term holds are set.'

Managing it ain't easy, though...

Others can't stockpile even knowing—dries out, effect drops.

'[Whispering Silver Grass] lives by freshness.'

But a good fridge at base and periodic [Fresh Cores] keep it prime.

Jackpot.

'Alright. Item secured. Time to get moving for real.'

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