A Bug In Fate

Alden ran across the open plains, maintaining a steady pace as the cool breeze swept past him.

The bustling city of Ravenhold gradually faded into the distance behind him, replaced by endless stretches of swaying grasslands. The dirt road beneath his feet cut through the plains like a ribbon, occasionally branching toward smaller settlements. Far beyond the open fields, towering mountain ranges pierced the horizon, their snow-capped peaks disappearing into drifting clouds. Patches of dense forest broke up the landscape, while narrow streams shimmered under the morning sun as they wound through the countryside.

Merchant wagons rolled along the road every now and then, their wooden wheels creaking beneath heavy loads of goods. Farmers led sturdy beasts of burden toward the city, exchanging cheerful greetings with one another, while flocks of unfamiliar birds soared lazily overhead.

Every part of Umbersoul seemed to possess its own charm. The forests, the city, and now these endless plains each felt like pieces of a world waiting to be explored.

Less than ten minutes later, he gradually slowed his pace.

Standing atop a large boulder beside the road, he looked ahead.

Nestled amidst the vast farmlands was a modest settlement.

Eastfield Village.

Compared to Ravenhold, it was tiny, but it was far from lifeless. Neat rows of wooden houses lined the dirt roads, thin trails of smoke drifting from several chimneys. Ox-drawn carts moved steadily between the fields and the village, while farmers busied themselves tending the golden crops stretching in every direction. Even from a distance, Alden could hear the chatter of villagers going about their daily lives.

Beyond the village lay the farmlands mentioned in the mission request.

From where he stood, a few patches of crops already looked strangely flattened, standing out against the otherwise healthy fields.

Alden jumped down from the boulder.

Dust scattered beneath his boots as he landed.

Adjusting the sword hanging at his waist, he walked toward Eastfield Village.

Alden had just reached the entrance of the village when someone called out to him.

"Brother! Are you from the Adventurers’ Guild?"

He turned toward the voice.

Two young boys were running straight toward him. One looked around thirteen, while the other couldn’t have been older than ten. Both were breathing heavily, as though they had been waiting for his arrival.

Alden stopped and nodded.

"Yes."

Relief immediately appeared on the older boy’s face.

"We were told to bring you to the farm. The Morkels are ruining our crops again."

"Please, hurry!"

Without waiting for another reply, the two boys turned and sprinted deeper into the village.

"...Alright."

Alden followed behind.

As they made their way through the village, quite a few people glanced in his direction. Some paused in the middle of their work, while others whispered quietly among themselves before returning to their daily tasks. Their curiosity was obvious, but no one tried to stop him.

Before long, the houses gave way to an enormous plantation.

It stretched for nearly five hundred meters, covered in countless rows of neatly trimmed green shrubs. Their glossy leaves swayed gently beneath the afternoon breeze, creating waves of emerald that rolled across the field.

A refreshing fragrance lingered in the air.

It wasn’t the sweet scent of flowers or ripe fruit. Instead, it carried a clean, earthy aroma that somehow made Alden feel unusually relaxed the moment he breathed it in.

"...This smells nice."

His shoulders unconsciously loosened before he quickly caught himself.

Wait...

Why am I relaxing during a mission?

His expression became serious again.

The peaceful scenery didn’t last long.

Several patches of shrubs suddenly rustled.

Something darted beneath the leaves, moving so quickly that only brief flashes of brown fur could be seen before vanishing again.

"They’re still here..."

"Over there."

The older boy pointed toward the edge of the plantation.

Two elderly farmers stood side by side, their weathered faces filled with worry as they watched the rustling bushes, afraid to step any closer.

"You can talk to them."

Alden nodded.

"Thanks."

Leaving the boys behind, he walked toward the two elderly men.

"Hello."

One of the old farmers slowly turned around.

His tired eyes first landed on the sword at Alden’s waist before settling on the bronze adventurer’s emblem hanging from his belt.

"...You’re the adventurer the guild sent?"

"Yes," Alden replied calmly.

The two elderly farmers exchanged glances.

"...Where are your teammates?" the second old man asked, looking past Alden as if expecting someone else to appear.

Alden raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? Teammates?"

"Kid..." The first farmer frowned. "Don’t tell me you came here alone."

"I did." Alden nodded. "There wasn’t any requirement saying I needed a team."

The old man let out a helpless sigh.

"That’s because everyone already knows it. Morkels aren’t particularly strong, but they’re incredibly quick. Unless you’re a powerful cultivator, you need at least two people to deal with them."

"They never attack one at a time," the second farmer added. "One distracts you while the others keep moving through the fields. By the time you catch one, the rest have already destroyed another section of crops."

"I see..."

Alden finally understood why the guild receptionist had smiled so strangely when he accepted the mission.

So that’s what he meant.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Well... I’ll give it a try first."

Before either of the old men could say another word, Alden stepped over the wooden fence and landed lightly between the endless rows of green shrubs. His hand moved to the sword at his waist, drawing the blade with a clear metallic ring before settling into a relaxed stance.

Behind him, the two elderly farmers could only stare.

"...He’s crazy," the second old man muttered.

"What exactly has the guild sent us this time?" the first replied with a weary sigh, his eyes never leaving Alden’s back.

Meanwhile, Alden ignored their conversation completely.

He took a slow breath as mana flowed from his core, traveling through his arm before gradually coating the blade in a thin layer of shimmering energy. The plantation fell eerily quiet, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves dancing in the breeze.

Then another sound reached his ears.

Rustle.

It came from somewhere to his right.

A moment later, another bush shook behind him.

Then another.

Within seconds, the entire plantation seemed to come alive. The rustling spread in every direction, surrounding him from all sides.

Without hesitation, Alden activated Mana Sense.

The world around him changed instantly.

Several presences appeared within his perception, weaving between the rows of shrubs with astonishing speed. None of them stayed still for more than a heartbeat, constantly changing direction as they closed the distance around him.

They’re surrounding me...

Alden tightened his grip on the sword.

Suddenly, one of the presences lunged from his left.

His body reacted before his mind could.

With a single step, he twisted his waist and slashed.

Whoosh!

The blade cut through the air just as the creature burst from beneath the shrubs.

"...What the hell?"

Alden blurted out in disbelief.

"A Gangar?"

The creature had a perfectly round body covered in thick brown fur. Rather than running on its short legs, it had curled itself into a tight ball and was rolling toward him at frightening speed, flattening shrubs in its path like a living boulder.

For a brief moment, an image from his previous life flashed through his mind.

Back on Earth, one of his favorite childhood shows had been Pokémon. Although this creature wasn’t identical, the resemblance was uncanny.

It looked as though someone had taken a Gangar... and dropped it into a cultivation world.

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