[Quest: Whereabouts of the Gnosis]
[Quest Requirement: Gnosis × 1]
[Targeting active.
Press V to auto-track.]
[Quest Reward: EXP]
Usually, quest rewards were only slightly better than killing mobs.
If a quest took too long to complete, it might not even match grinding mobs.
So quests didn’t make much difference either way and wouldn’t affect a normal leveling plan.
“Mr.
Daigan, could you please not ignore me?”
Pantalone waved the hand holding the gilded token in front of the man before him.
Dottore, who had not yet left, set down the vial he was carrying, shifting the curiosity hidden behind his mask onto the two of them.
Seeing that two of the most scheming Harbingers seemed interested in someone, Arlecchino, who was about to leave, paused.
Her eyes flickered with red patterns.
Thinking of the Doctor’s nature, he undoubtedly had some blasphemous ideas again.
Though she wasn’t familiar with this eccentric, she stayed to see what the madman was up to.
Daigan stood silently in place.
His pupils were dark and deep, yet covered by what looked like a transparent film, blocking the malicious gazes trying to read his emotions.
Inside his inventory, monster bones, frozen blocks of snow, blunted arrowheads, and trash like seeds, dirt, and dust were packed tightly in grid slots.
A red [Overburdened] warning flashed in the corner.
Seeing that Daigan didn’t leave immediately as he usually did, Pantalone stepped forward.
His ink-black robes brushed over the thin frost on the ice, blocking Daigan’s path.
Pantalone wore a hollow, fake smile, the gilded token in his hand glinting cold in the light.
“Mr.
Daigan, the sea route to Inazuma is perilous, and the checkpoints of the Commissions are stacked high.
If you don’t wish to attract the attention of the Narukami, we would do best to keep a low profile.
“As far as I know, you don’t like wasting time on tedious red tape, do you?”
Pantalone paused, observing the man before him, only to find he didn’t move at all.
Flawless.
Faced with a quest, he felt no pressure at all.
Even with such obvious benefits placed before him, it was as if he hadn’t heard a word.
Pantalone inwardly marveled at Daigan’s poker face.
Adjusting his tone, he said calmly,
“If all merchant fleets at Ritou are at your disposal, customs paperwork already drafted, coordinates for supply posts along the way provided, and dangerous reefs marked…
surely that would drastically reduce your lost time, wouldn’t it?
“As you know, I come from a clerical background.
I don’t have the strength to pull a bow or swing a sword, so I can’t help on the battlefield.
I can only manage these mundane affairs in the rear.”
Before Daigan could speak, Dottore, watching from the side, snickered and interjected,
“Pantalone’s favors aren’t easy to repay, Mr.
Daigan.”
“Haha, you jest.
This is merely standard issue for any Harbinger dispatched on a mission—a routine matter, not a favor.”
Seeing the time was ripe, Pantalone straightened up and offered the token he had been holding.
“This is a command token capable of mobilizing everything.
I believe we should both focus our limited energy on Her Majesty’s task, shouldn’t we?”
Daigan’s eyes remained unchanged.
At this moment, he had roughly cleared out some junk in his inventory that wasn’t commonly encountered and had been auto-looted.
“Pantalone’s routine is thorough indeed.
I happen to have a free piece of advice for you as well: making thorough preparations before going to Inazuma is all well and good, but only if the thing you’re looking for is actually still in Inazuma.”
When those words came out, Arlecchino, listening by a pillar, froze slightly.
*The Gnosis is no longer in Inazuma?
Does this guy know where the Gnosis is?
He usually keeps close to the Sixth Seat…
it seems he was involved in this…*
Dottore still smiled nonchalantly, playful light flashing behind his mask.
In reality, he was deeply puzzled.
This oddball didn’t seem interested in what they were saying at all.
Then again, it made sense.
This guy even had the nerve to cold-shoulder Her Majesty without hesitation.
Dottore had only stepped up because he saw Daigan didn’t leave right away this time, wanting to see if there was an opportunity.
Now it seemed the guy might just enjoy standing here today.
“Oh, it seems you aren’t interested.
I hope you won’t be disappointed if you travel all that way only to find an alibi.”
Seeing Daigan like this, Dottore lost his urge to study him.
After speaking, he turned to leave, walking toward the exit step by step.
Arlecchino kept her eyes glued to Dottore until he passed her, then withdrew her gaze.
However, she remained leaning against the pillar, quietly watching, waiting for this weird person’s reaction.
“Arlecchino, do you know this colleague?”
Tartaglia, standing slightly to her left, was also curious about what he would do next.
After Dottore left, Pantalone looked at the unresponsive Daigan and shook his head.
“It seems Mr.
Daigan prefers doing things himself over accepting help from colleagues.”
Just as he was about to leave—
Daigan suddenly raised his hand.
Pantalone paused, then smiled and offered the token again.
“Could it be that Mr.
Daigan has changed his mind?”
Then, under Pantalone’s shocked gaze, a fragment of monster bone with traces of blood appeared in Daigan’s hand.
*Clack.*
After tossing the bone onto the ground, Daigan thrust his hand inside his cloak, dumping out the junk gathered on its lining all at once.
“What…
is the meaning of this?”
The crisp sound of hard objects hitting the floor drowned out Pantalone’s words.
A monster bone bounced against Pantalone’s boot; a frozen block of snow landed dead center in the palm holding the token, cold meltwater dripping down through his fingers.
Pantalone froze in place, almost dropping the gilded token.
He looked down at the snow in his palm, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
What on earth is this guy doing?!
“Hey!
Has he gone crazy?!
Throwing trash around in a place like this?!”
Watching from the shadows, Childe’s eyes went wide.
His mouth gaped open, his voice rising several pitches in disbelieving shock.
He looked at the emotionless face of the man nearby, then at the mess all over the floor, so stunned he couldn’t even voice the rest of his outrage.
After clearing out the trash, the yellow [Inventory Space Normal] status finally lit up in Daigan’s interface.
He looked up, his gaze locking precisely onto a longsword embedded with ice crystals on the floor not far away.
[Quest Item: Nameless Iron Sword × 1]
[Upon completion: Zapolyarny Palace Access Unlocked]
Under Pantalone’s gaze, Daigan walked over, bent down, and grabbed the hilt, taking this divine weapon—bestowed by Her Majesty as a symbol of Snezhnaya’s glory—into his hand.
He turned and walked straight toward the main doors.
In reality, except during meetings, Daigan could only load the cathedral doors of Zapolyarny Palace; it was a special non-accessible building.
This was the first time he was walking back out on his own.
Looking at the palace, which was far from small, Daigan had no desire to explore.
He ran straight toward the front entrance.
After the perspective compressed, the overall scaled-down palace wasn’t very large in Daigan’s eyes.
At sprint speed, two dashes—about a second and a half—would get him to the main doors.
In Tartaglia’s eyes, however, Daigan’s figure simply vanished, leaving two trails of dust where he stood.
In an instant, he covered nearly fifty meters to appear right before his eyes.
“So fast!”
After a brief pause, Daigan dashed again, his figure vanishing once more.
With two dashes, he had already covered half the length of the palace.
At that moment, Dottore had reached the entrance.
The sound behind him made him look back.
He saw Daigan already standing in front of him, holding the longsword Her Majesty had just bestowed, staring intently at him.
“What?!”
Threat imminent, the pupils behind his mask contracted slightly, his mind racing.
He had previously tried various means to capture this eccentric, but this man had no concept of status, no reservations, and none of the normal human fear, joy, or desire.
Dottore had tried every method short of direct force, and none had worked.
Today, because of Daigan’s abnormal behavior, Dottore had for the first time smelled an “opportunity” on this weird person, which was why he had approached in person.
Could it be that, from just a few words, he guessed that the one who pulled strings in the dark was him?
During the split-second pause, Daigan leaned forward to dash again.
“Wait!”
Seeing his movement, Dottore stepped back hastily, raising both hands in front of him, intense shock flashing behind his mask.
“I have something to say—”
Before he could finish, Daigan’s hand gripped his face.
The moment his fingertips touched the cheekbones, an absolute, indisputable force tore away all the defenses around him.
Dottore felt the barriers woven from intricate mechanisms and elemental power around his body crumble like paper in a window frame upon contact, failing to delay the grip for even a fraction of a second.
His consciousness felt abruptly thrown into a rapidly reversing hourglass, countless scenes crashing into his mind like shattered jade:
The flickering fire in a frozen laboratory, the experimental subject struggling on the dissection table, the wary or mocking glances of his colleagues, the cold gaze from the throne of Zapolyarny Palace…
The life-review flashed too fast—so fast he couldn’t even catch a single clear fragment, only a bone-chilling sense of helplessness surging from his chest…
Through his beak mask, the sensation of death surged into his heart.
*Thump.*
After a brief pause, Dottore tumbled to the ground in a rather dramatic, awkward posture.
His hands instinctively pushed off the floor; his legs failed to follow his brain’s commands, his knees buckling outward uncontrollably.
A dignified Harbinger now looked like a frightened young girl, knees trembling slightly, toes even curling inward reflexively.
He looked up in disbelief at Daigan, who had pushed the door open and walked past.
From start to finish, Daigan hadn’t spared him a single glance.
The shock brought by that absolute force left every bone in his body stripped of its core, unable to muster a shred of strength.
Meanwhile, after stepping out of the palace and loading the map, Daigan felt a bit puzzled.
This was the first time the game had stuttered since upgrading to 3D graphics.
Was the building too big?
Stuttering both entering and leaving?
Whatever.
Time to map-run.
Hopefully complete the quest within twenty minutes to make a little profit, otherwise this would just be a boring story cutscene.
Daigan’s figure vanished into the swirling snow.