Chapter 20 | Just How Many Skills Do You Have?

The four of them briefly introduced themselves.

The man with the sword was named Sargon, a self-proclaimed wandering knight, while the female mage was named Matilda. Aside from that, they didn't chat much.

After all, they were only thrown together for a temporary scouting mission; there was no need to pry into each other's backgrounds like they were conducting a census.

After a brief exchange, the four of them set off toward the forest.

Roger walked at the very back, using his position to observe his three temporary teammates.

Irene's gear was about the same as usual.

Aside from the eye-catching greatsword on his back, Sargon wore a well-worn suit of chainmail, complete with dark metal pauldrons and greaves. He was fully equipped.

The mage robes Matilda wore didn't look like ordinary goods either. The dark blue fabric was embroidered with subtle patterns, and a faint magical luster shimmered along the edges. She held a long staff that was half a head taller than she was, with specks of light slowly swirling inside the crystal at its tip.

In comparison, Roger figured he was probably the most shabby-looking of the four.

However, he was quite optimistic about it.

Being shabby was only temporary. The system shop was packed with items; as long as he lived long enough, he would eventually have everything he needed.

On the way to the forest, Roger also took some time to observe the interactions among his temporary teammates.

From the moment they stepped out of the camp, Sargon had proactively positioned himself next to Matilda, their shoulders maintaining a nearly constant distance.

Whether the female mage walked fast or slow, the wandering knight always adjusted his pace in a timely manner, staying perfectly in sync with her.

His body leaned slightly in her direction, and whenever he spoke, his gaze would always linger on her face before turning elsewhere.

Irene was clearly unfamiliar with the two of them, keeping a distance of a few paces from the pair.

“We're about to enter the woods, Miss Matilda. Please rest assured and stand behind me when the time comes. My swordsmanship is superb; I will definitely protect you.”

Sargon turned his head and spoke to Matilda. His voice was pitched lower than usual, carrying a gentle tone. Combined with his tall frame and the greatsword on his back, he did indeed strike quite the pose of a “knight protecting a lady.”

Matilda kept her eyes straight ahead, offering only a flat, “Mm.”

But Sargon didn't seem to mind her coldness at all. With a smile still plastered on his face, he continued to babble on. It was likely about his past adventures or praises of her magical prowess.

Roger, who was following far behind, couldn't hear the details clearly, but he could feel the sheer sycophancy from a mile away.

“Seriously? I'm just here to grind in the wild, and I still run into a simp?” Roger thought to himself. He planned to suggest splitting up once they entered the woods to prevent these two from messing things up.

After entering the forest, the light dimmed.

Roger quickened his pace, moving from the back of the line to stand directly in front of Sargon. He then turned around to face the three of them and offered his suggestion:

“In my opinion, it's better if we split up. This forest isn't small, and having all four of us clustered together is too inefficient.

“Splitting up will allow us to cover a larger area and quickly figure out what's hiding in here. I'm sure that with everyone's strength, a few mere beasts won't pose any threat.”

Sargon nodded. “Indeed. Although sticking together as a group of four is much safer, the efficiency is indeed too low. It would be better to split into groups of two.”

As he spoke, his gaze naturally drifted toward Matilda, his body leaning slightly toward her. He might as well have written “I'm with you” on his forehead.

Matilda frowned, however. “But this forest shows signs of being tampered with by cultists. If we split up and run into an ambush, won't it be easier for them to defeat us one by one?”

Roger continued to argue, “Our mission is scouting, not clearing. We just need to find out how many beasts are in the forest and if there are signs of cultist activity, then bring that information back. That counts as completing the mission.

“If we find anything amiss, we can retreat immediately. There's no need to engage in direct combat.”

Matilda fell silent for a moment, then looked at Irene.

“I don't mind,” Irene replied succinctly.

Matilda could only nod, no longer objecting.

Seeing this, Sargon immediately seized the opportunity. He turned to Matilda, placed a hand over his chest, and performed a rather sloppy knight's salute.

“In that case, Miss Matilda, please allow me to act as your guardian, just like before.”

“Enough,” Matilda interrupted him. Her tone was still devoid of warmth, but she didn't refuse either. Holding her staff, she took the lead and walked toward the eastern side of the forest.

After watching the pair disappear into the depths of the dense forest, Irene turned around and cast an inquiring look at Roger. “So, what are your thoughts?”

“First of all, I personally prefer to work alone, which you should have noticed by now. Secondly, as you saw, that so-called wandering knight has nothing but pleasing his crush on his mind. I'm afraid he'll just get in the way.”

Roger began walking in another direction. “The two of us will still split up. Like I just said, it's more efficient this way. Or, as we agreed before, we can keep a certain distance from each other and stay out of each other's way. If one of us runs into trouble, the other can go over to help.”

He didn't voice all of his reasons.

His insistence on splitting up, besides not wanting to team up with potential liabilities, was driven by a more practical motive.

He wanted to take the opportunity to gather some herbs and useful materials in the forest.

He had tasted the benefits of gathering Firekiss Flowers last time. The system storage had a massive capacity, and items placed inside wouldn't spoil. It would be a waste not to make use of it.

Although he currently knew absolutely nothing about alchemy, as long as he accumulated enough points, learning an alchemy skill would be a matter of minutes.

By then, the materials stored in his inventory would serve as free starting capital.

Irene's gaze still held some doubt, seemingly unconvinced by Roger's words, but she didn't press further.

The distance between them gradually widened, but they remained within sight and earshot of each other.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, a pungent smell of rotten eggs drifted from ahead.

Roger frowned, pulling his collar up to cover his nose and mouth. Suppressing the wave of nausea rising in his stomach, he endured the stench and continued forward.

Before he had gone far, he spotted a thick, decaying log lying in a clearing ahead, with ten grayish-white mushrooms growing out of its crevices.

Roger looked around, confirming there was no sign of lurking beasts nearby, nor was there any red light from 【Danger Sense】 shimmering at the edge of his vision.

Crouching down, he picked up a clean leaf from the ground to wrap around his index finger. He gently touched the cap of one of the mushrooms through the leaf, then muttered in his mind.

“Appraise.”

【Name: Stink Shroom

Quality: Common

Description: A type of mushroom that has a chance to grow on decaying vegetation, named for the unbearable stench it emits. When its spore gas reaches a high enough concentration, it can cause brief dizziness in humans. Direct contact with the cap should be avoided when harvesting, otherwise the spores will adhere to the skin and continuously emit the odor for several hours.

Recycle Points: 40】

“My word, isn't this a ready-made chemical weapon?”

He plucked all the visible gray mushrooms from the decaying log, wrapped them in leaves, and placed them into his system storage.

The Stink Shrooms lay quietly in a storage slot, coexisting peacefully with the nearby Firekiss Flowers without emitting any smell.

Having dealt with the mushrooms, he was about to head deeper into the forest when he suddenly heard Irene's voice coming from behind and to his side:

“Mr. Roger, come over here for a moment.”

Roger walked toward the sound. Parting several waist-high bushes, he saw Irene crouching on the ground, staring down at the dirt.

He walked up to Irene's side and followed her gaze. On the dead leaves ahead lay a pile of purple ash.

Roger recognized it at a glance. Back when they attacked the goblins in the forest outside Salard Village, he had seen the exact same purple ash in the goblins' campfires.

However, the situation back then hadn't allowed for a closer look, nor did he have the time to use his appraisal function, so he had never known what this purple substance actually did.

“A cultist, or at least a goblin, was likely here not too long ago.”

“Since goblins can't seem to do without this stuff, it's probably some kind of casting material,” he quickly deduced.

Cultists wouldn't light a purple campfire in the forest for no reason. Its function was likely related to their methods of controlling beasts or goblins.

Roger picked up another clean leaf from the ground to wrap around his fingers, carefully pinched a tiny bit of the purple ash, and muttered “Appraise” in his mind.

【Name: Purple Embers

Quality: Common

Description: Originally purple crystals processed from various common minerals and herbs through dark magic. When subjected to high temperatures, they produce smoke that enhances the inhaler's strength. Each crystal is single-use, turning into ash of the same color after use.

However, inhaling too much in a single session will cause irreversible damage to the body and gradually erode the mind, ultimately leading to a complete loss of sanity.

Recycle Points: 10】

Roger's gaze swept back and forth across the interface. A buffing material that worked through inhalation, and inhaling too much of it would damage the brain and body.

This concept felt incredibly familiar.

“The sudden abnormality in the goblins here is probably related to this stuff,” Roger thought. “And as for who provided it, without a doubt, it's the cultists.”

At the same time, new questions flooded his mind.

Although the description mentioned that the minerals and herbs were common goods, where the cultists obtained them was highly intriguing.

After all, the more commonplace something was, the less attention it would attract. Anyone buying a few pieces of ore or a few bundles of herbs wouldn't raise any suspicion.

But if someone knew the correct recipe and proportions, they could use these unremarkable materials to refine a stimulant that could turn a large number of goblins into rabid dogs.

Where did the cultists get these raw materials? Where did they refine them?

In the black markets of Orland City, was someone currently shipping carriage after carriage of raw materials to the cultists under the guise of “common minerals” and “ordinary herbs”?