Chương 53: World Tour Part 1

Meno considered going back to Westmarket. Instead, he looked east, where the Melrai Dunes thinned into cracked soil and thick green growth pressed against the desert, as if it had been waiting for the sand to get tired. He adjusted the spare Rune Spire on his back. Its durability was still decent because he had not abused this one against the shield yet, unlike the battered low-durability version sitting in his inventory, and started running.

"World tour begins," Meno said, heading east out of the Melrai Dunes toward the jungle-looking zone pressing against the sand.

"No looting unless something literally lands in my mouth. Normal threats only. Low threats are scenery. Moderate and above can live their lives away from me." efficient or insane both? open map"I don't have a map," Meno said.

"That is why we are doing the stupid thing manually." [Zone Discovered: Verdant Maw Jungle] Recommended Range: 30–40 Meno stopped for half a second when the notification appeared, then exhaled through his nose.

"Oh, that is so much better." settings victory zone names unlocked immersion mode defeated he can read now Verdant Maw Jungle did not feel like ordinary forest. The trees were too thick and too old, their trunks twisted around each other and split by roots that crossed the ground like wet ropes. Vines hung from the canopy in curtains, broad leaves shed water from somewhere above, and the mud tugged at his boots every time he planted too hard.

The first Mosswalker pulled itself from a fallen log with root-knotted limbs and a wet green back, registering as Normal threat with a body that looked built to soak hits and keep moving. Meno killed it from medium range and kept running before the mud under it started twitching. Viewers sat around 68, 000, lower than the raid wave but steady enough for Meno to pretend this was research instead of one man running recklessly through unknown areas.

Two Stranglevine Crawlers dragged themselves out of the leaves behind it, Normal threat until their thorn tendrils spread wide enough to turn the path into a net. He turned a straight run into a wall-kick, let False Wings carry him over the first thorn sweep, and fired down while the silver shield around him took the scrape of a vine he had misjudged. first vine almost got him jungle already rude medium range tourism The jungle refused to give him a clean line after that.

Every useful gap bent into another gap, and every second gap ended in a root wall, a puddle, or a branch low enough to punish confidence. Canopy Leeches dropped from overhead as Low threat nuisance enemies, trying to stick to his shoulder or boot before he cut them apart mid-run. Their only real damage was to his patience. A Barkhide Prowler watched from a branch with wooden plates layered over its catlike body, its Moderate threat more about patient ambush than raw speed.

Farther in, Thornjaw Apes with Moderate threat red sap smeared across their faces blocked clearings and beat their chests hard enough to knock leaves from nearby branches. Meno gave both kinds of monster room, because the tour had rules. At the twenty-minute mark, whistles cut through the canopy. A spear struck the mud ahead, bone charms rattling on the shaft.

Lean jungle-dwellers moved above him in leaf masks, their bodies painted green and red, and their Moderate threat came from how they communicated rather than how hard any one of them hit. One whistle pushed a Maskbinder to his left, another answered from above, and a weighted net dropped into the space Meno would have used if he kept running on instinct.

He kicked off a slanted trunk instead, hit another branch with his shoulder, and turned the collision into a half-spin that carried him down into mud beyond the net. The Maskbinders did not chase far, but their whistles stayed behind him, sharp and irritated. jungle won neutral mask tribe saw the interview talk to them no talking tour Meno spat out a leaf.

"That was terrain-assisted." Crossing Verdant Maw Jungle took forty-three minutes because every path lied. He killed Mosswalkers and Stranglevine crawlers when they stood in his way, ignored Moderate Prowlers, Apes, and Maskbinders, and lost several minutes climbing a broken stone marker that pointed to an overgrown shrine instead of an exit. The XP bar moved, but with smug patience, like it knew he was not farming a dungeon.

Near the end, the jungle opened into a hollow where black-green water sat still beneath a torn patch of sky. [Hostile: Sleepwalker | Type: Dream-Touched Humanoid | Threat:??? | Trait: Dreamer] The Sleepwalker drifted above the pool with its head bowed, pale cloth hanging around a body that never touched the surface. Its aura made the jungle grow backward.

Leaves shrank into buds, branches folded into trunks, moss crawled off stone and vanished into cracks, and then the whole hollow snapped forward again into rot and wet leaf fall. A Mosswalker wandered too close to the aura and collapsed into a sapling, then swelled into a Root-Knotted Brute twice its old size before the bark on its back split open. [Hostile: Root-Knotted Brute | Type: Dream-Rotted Plant | Threat: Lethal | Trait: Bloomrot] Meno stepped away.

"Rot zone. Great." fight it 5k bounty money remember worm call BrineSaint nope nope nope"No." He found another route through the trees, and the jungle finally thinned into dry grass, stone, and wind-black ridges. [Zone Discovered: Stormcrown Highlands] Recommended Range: 20–30 Meno expected danger from the sky because the sky looked prepared for it. Bruised clouds dragged low over the ridges, silver light flashed inside them, and wind pressed against his chest like the zone wanted to shove him back downhill.

Then a Windbitten Wolf snapped at his boot, registered Low threat, and bounced off his stride. Luckily, his HP had regenerated since the last Panic Pump, because if he had died to a Low threat monster, he would never have lived it down. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He kept running. The path climbed in jagged bends, gravel sliding under his boots while the storm pressed lower over the ridge. Stormhorn Rams crackled faintly with static along the slopes.

Ridge Harpies circled with ragged feathers above rocky outcrops. Stoneback Lizards basked on warm slabs, and little cloud-mites drifted around him in biting clusters. The monsters had weather and attitude, but nothing that mattered to a Level 37 player unless he stopped long enough to become embarrassed. The dramatic sky had written checks the threat prompts could not cash. Meno pushed up the ridge anyway, boots scraping over loose stone, and found the path blocked by deserters. They had more personality.

Patched red cloaks, old Northspire polearms, and a formation that probably frightened low level players.

"Road tax," the front deserter said. Meno looked at the spear points, then at the seventy thousand people watching him.

"Do you take apples?" He pulled one from his inventory and tossed it underhand toward the front deserter, because diplomacy was mostly just finding out what counted as currency before the stabbing started.

"What?" The deserter caught the apple on reflex, then stared down at it in blank surprise. Two more shifted behind the front line with quiet discomfort. Before the situation could turn into a lesson, three players came up from the other side with bright starter cloaks and too much lightning between them. [Rillspark | Class: Thunderseed Acolyte — Level 24 | Ability: Static Seed] [MudNova | Class: Clay Hexer — Level 23 | Ability: Mire Sigil]"Are you PrayerBeadGod?" Rillspark asked.

"No," Meno said. His nameplate chose that exact moment to proc betrayal. MudNova laughed.

"We can clear the deserters if you don't want them."

"They charged me road tax."

"Yeah, they do that." Meno stepped aside and let the party have the content. Lightning popped from the acolyte's staff a moment later, mud hands grabbed ankles, and the deserters' business model collapsed behind him. For once, he took a break on a flat ridge overlooking Stormhold Redoubt, a compact fortified outpost tucked into the hills with a Zubra catapult station beside it. The catapult's arm was folded down while striped engineers climbed over the frame with ropes and chalkboards.

[Catapult Station Discovered: Stormhold Redoubt] Zubra travel point available. One Zubra fired a weighted sack into a net eighty steps away. The sack hit the net, bounced out, and knocked another Zubra into a barrel.

"They made that the flight point system," Meno said. ZUBRA AIRLINES register fast travel by trauma safe? absolutely not"I respect the brand." Stormcrown took twenty-seven minutes, gave him almost no useful kills, and delivered one awkward realization: Stormhold guild had apparently started south in Southreach, not in Northspire, despite there being a place called Stormhold Redoubt in the north.

He guessed the big guilds had skipped the roleplay and divided the starting regions among themselves so they would not have to fight over the same spots. Crownfall went west, Highbanner claimed the north, and Silverwake spread east. The biggest walls on the horizon pulled him north. Northspire appeared ahead in white stone and red accents, built upward instead of out.

Tall buildings clustered along the slope, their upper levels linked by enclosed walkways, while red banners snapped from spires and steep dark roofs cut hard against the sky. Around it, the land had turned cold and open. Frost silvered the grass in thin patches, low shrubs clung to rocky ground, and the wind dragged loose snow across his boots. The city looked smaller than Westmarket from a distance, but denser, stacked like someone had run out of ground and refused to admit it.

Meno treated it as a landmark rather than a destination and kept to the outer roads. [Landmark Reached: Northspire Outer Approach] Meno was not dressed for cold, and the Soma-X7 made sure he knew it. The capsule translated the open gaps, and wind-cut fabric into a steady bite against his skin, immersive enough to be impressive and annoying enough to feel personal. The creatures were beneath him.

Frostbitten Crows watched from signposts, stray Ice Foxes crossed the road in white flashes, and Mountain Goats twisted by cold magic butted each other beside the lower trail. Meno followed the outer road along the city's edge, keeping Northspire to his right. Chimney Imps stole scraps from market carts near the side gates, patrol hounds barked without committing to a fight they would lose, and players along the approach took screenshots, argued over auction house prices, and practiced spells on training posts.

A player on a bench looked up from a steaming cup and pointed at him. [SnowTheory | Class: Frostline Caller — Level 12 | Ability: Ice Thread]"You're the stool guy." Meno changed direction without slowing.

"City is not what I'm hunting." Northspire behind him, he cut west into the snowy valley rather than through the gates. [Zone Discovered: Frostroot Vale] Recommended Range: 1–10 Frostroot Vale confirmed the northern starter lands were far beneath him before he finished his first hill. Snowhares with antler nubs scattered ahead of his boots, Frostmotes drifted like tiny blue lantern insects, Pineback Boars charged with icy bristles and no future, and Vale Wolves circled until he looked at them.

Frozen Sap Slimes wobbled beneath trees with all the menace of dessert left outside too long. The zone was full of beginners. Some moved carefully with wooden shields held too high, some chased Snowhares they absolutely did not need to chase, and a small caster group nearly set a fence on fire while trying to coordinate on a Pineback Boar. Frostmere Poachers lurked at the edges in fur-lined hoods with bone knives and little sled packs, but even they took one look at Meno and started becoming less present.

Meno stopped near a snow-covered stump and took a short rest, mostly because he wanted one. [CandleMothXO | Class: Hearth Witch — Level 7 | Ability: Ember Charm]"Are you really Level 37?" CandleMoth asked, her staff taller than her avatar.

"Yeah."

"Why are you here?"

"Map completion." She nodded like that explained enough.

"Do you know how to stop Frostmotes from interrupting casting?"

"Move before they touch you."

"That's it?"

"Usually." She looked disappointed, then wrote it down anyway. mentor arc helpful Meno Lysa would cry TrainerBeadGod charge for coaching starter zone guru Meno left before the zone made him responsible for anyone. Frostmere glowed in the distance, the only real town in Frostroot Vale, like a warm coal tucked into white ash. Lantern windows dotted its roofs, smoke trailed from chimneys, and safe roads curved toward it from the surrounding frost.

The whole area around it had been built to teach people how to move, cast, eat, fail, and recover. It took eighteen minutes to cross because Meno stopped twice and answered one more question about why his sword was so long. He turned back from Frostmere and ran past Northspire again, this time keeping the city on his left as he pushed farther east through the northern region. The snow hardened beyond the outer roads, and glassy patches spread across the ground where the wind had scraped the trail clean.

[Zone Discovered: Shiverglass Pass] Recommended Range: 10–20 Shiverglass Pass looked like it should have mattered. Ice roads cut between cliffs, blue glass sheets hung from overhangs, and wind screamed through frozen arches. The enemies did not rise to the scenery.

Ice Gnats sparkled in the wind, Snowblind Bats flapped from cave mouths, brittle Ice Crawlers skittered over frozen rocks, Cliff Cats with blue fur tracked him from ledges, and Glassback Beetles clattered underfoot with a crunch that made chat accuse him of Low threat violence even when he stepped over them. Shiverwatch smugglers gave the pass its only real shape, bundled figures hauling sleds of stolen goods past barracks patrols, using rope traps and crossbows that barely reached his threat floor.

One snare caught his boot while he was watching chat instead of the ice, and Meno hit the ground shoulder-first. trap boss low threat defeated him clip it stronger than raid trash smuggler MVP He cut the rope, stood, and brushed ice dust off his sleeve with as much dignity as the situation allowed.

"Terrain-assisted." Two players on the ridge above had seen the whole thing, which was somehow more humiliating than chat because their avatars could point. [Brattman | Class: Mourning Spark — Level 18 | Ability: Funeral Bolt] [MagicTheooryy | Class: Candle Rotter — Level 17 | Ability: Wax Hex]"Nice fall!" Brattman shouted. Meno looked up at the black coat and skull-topped wand.

"Nice coat. Did the hole come included, or did you spec into it?" The player laughed instead of getting offended, which improved him slightly. Shiverwatch Barracks stood in the distance with flags snapping against hard wind, and Meno avoided the guard road because every barracks in every world had paperwork disguised as security. The pass took twelve minutes, mostly because ice hated speed, and off-trail travel kept trying to trade his ankles for comedy.

Then the neat road broke apart into older ruins, and the snow began sliding uphill. The first sign of the Sunken Observatory was a dome half-buried in snow and stone. The second sign was gravity changing its mind. [Zone Discovered: Sunken Observatory] Recommended Range: 30–40