Cold grass brushed against Dylan’s cheek as consciousness slowly returned.
The first thing he heard was the gentle murmur of a nearby river, accompanied by the cheerful songs of birds hidden among the surrounding trees.
A cool mountain breeze drifted across his face, carrying the crisp scent of pine and wildflowers.
He opened his eyes.
Above him stretched an endless blue sky, broken only by slow-moving white clouds.
For a few silent moments, he simply lay there, allowing himself to breathe.
“…Huh.”
A dull ache lingered behind his eyes as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.
The shrine stood quietly a short distance away, unchanged from before.
Its weathered stone walls were still wrapped in creeping vines, as though it had never opened at all.
If not for the lingering memories in his mind, he might have believed the entire experience had been nothing more than a dream.
Almost instinctively, his hand drifted to his waist.
His fingers wrapped around the familiar hilt of the Jian.
Rain.
The cool steel beneath his palm was more than enough to reassure him.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“…Guess it wasn’t a dream.”
For a while, he remained seated beside the river, listening to the steady flow of water while sunlight filtered through the trees above.
Everything felt strangely peaceful.
His first true weapon.
His first Combat Scripture.
After everything he’d endured since arriving in this world, he had finally accomplished the goal that had brought him to Ashveil Summit.
Dylan slowly rose to his feet and dusted the grass from his clothes.
His body still protested every movement, but compared to the satisfaction settling in his chest, the pain felt almost insignificant.
“Alright.”
He adjusted the strap of his backpack before taking one final glance at the forgotten shrine.
“One objective down.”
His expression gradually became more serious.
“…One more to go.”
The Moonveil Herb.
According to his memories, it grew naturally along the eastern side of Ashveil Summit, nourished by moonlit rivers and dense concentrations of ambient mana.
Fortunately, the herb wasn’t particularly far from the shrine less than an hour’s walk if he remembered the route correctly.
“Before leaving why not test Rain,” A quiet thought struck him.
Dylan rested a hand on the hilt at his waist.
“…Before I leave.”
His fingers curled around the grip.
“I should probably make sure this thing actually works.”
With a quiet metallic whisper, Rain left its sheath.
Shiiing!!!
Sunlight danced across the polished blade.
The flowing patterns etched into the steel seemed almost alive beneath the afternoon light, resembling countless strands of rain cascading down the length of the Jian.
“…pretty.” That’s what he thought as he turned the sword slowly in his hand.
There was no overwhelming pressure, no blazing aura, no thunder crashing across the heavens.
Just balance.
It felt surprisingly light.
Almost too light.
He gave it a tentative swing.
The blade cut through the air with barely any sound.
“…Huh.” He frowned deeply.
“I was expecting at least one dramatic sound effect.”
Back when he was writing the novel, he’d created a dozen flashy armaments to satisfy his readers.
So Rain’s performance made him remember the past where he wrote swords as nukes.
Rain is exactly the opposite of everything he had written in his previous life.
A sword.
Silent, precise, and impeccably sharp.
It quietly suited him.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” he said, lowering the blade before focusing on the faint thread of mana within his body.
It was pitifully small.
Still, he guided it toward Rain.
Almost instantly, the intricate patterns decorating the blade emitted a faint blue glow.
It wasn’t dazzling or overwhelming.
Instead, it resembled moonlight reflected upon calm water, subtle and elegant.
“So that’s how mana conductivity works,” he said with a satisfied grin, slowly loosening his grip.
Then he decided to test Rain’s other ability, “Recall.” He threw it as far as he could, exactly sixteen steps away from him.
Dylan watched the sword tumble through the air before burying itself point-first into the soft earth sixteen steps away.
He straightened his back and extended his empty hand toward it.
“Rain.”
Nothing happened, he cleared his throat.
“…Rain.” The sword remained exactly where it was.
“I was expecting that to sound cooler.”
He narrowed his eyes and focused on the thin stream of mana flowing within his body.
Recall.
The command had sounded simple enough inside the shrine.
He reached for the faint connection he could still sense between himself and the Jian.
“Come.”
For a heartbeat, there was nothing.
Then, without warning, something hot surged through his right arm blue lines erupting beneath his skin like glowing veins, racing from his shoulder toward his fingertips.
“Wha—” The mana circuit burned not painfully, just unexpectedly and a faint symbol resembling flowing rain briefly appeared across the back of his hand before fading as quickly as it had come.
The sword gave a tiny vibration, then fell silent again.
“…Seriously?” He stared at his hand.
“So close.”
He spent the next several minutes trying again, and each attempt produced the same result: mana rushed uncontrollably through his arm, the connection strengthened, and the glowing mark appeared for a brief instant.
Rain trembled then stubbornly refused to move.
Eventually, Dylan let out a long sigh.
“I suppose asking an F-Grade body to properly control a Growth Armament was a little optimistic.”
He walked over to retrieve the Jian and slid it back into its sheath.
“It isn’t the sword. It’s me.”
The conclusion was frustratingyet strangely reassuring.
The ability existed.
His body simply wasn’t capable of using it yet.
“Something to work on later.” He adjusted the sheath against his waist and looked toward the eastern forest.
“Now, let’s focus on side quest.”
Moonveil Herb.
A medicinal plant so valuable that most Hunters would never see one in their entire careers.
Unlike ordinary herbs, Moonveil couldn’t be cultivated artificially.
It absorbed ambient mana through its roots, moonlight through its translucent leaves, and pure flowing water through an unusually delicate root system.
Miss even one of those conditions…
It simply refused to grow.
That rarity was precisely why a single healthy specimen could fetch a fortune through legal channels.
Assuming, of course, one possessed the permits to harvest it.
Dylan did not.
Although finding them was a huge pain in the ass, Dylan wanted to track them down for the old couple.
Not out of kindness, but out of sympathy and guilt.
“That’s all.” Dylan muttered.
The forest grew quieter with every step he took down the eastern slope.
Dylan’s gaze drifted to the vines hanging between the ancient trees countless strands, swaying gently in the wind.
Harmless-looking.
Almost decorative, even.
But he knew better than to trust appearances.
Over the past two decades, several plant species had slowly adapted to mana.
Most stayed ordinary, unremarkable, the kind of thing you’d walk past without a second glance.
Some didn’t.
And those were the ones that killed.
A single careless touch was all it took to trigger their defensive instincts.
The vines would tighten.
Then tighten again.
And again until whatever had disturbed them simply…
stopped moving.
Even seasoned scout hunters approached these things like they were live wire.
There were report more than a few of rookies who never made it back out, all because they’d underestimated a plant.
“I’d rather not become fertilizer today,” Dylan thought grimly.
He kept a wide, respectful berth around every suspicious growth he passed, weaving deeper into the forest with careful, deliberate steps.
Minutes bled into an hour.
Then, gradually, the trees began to thin.
The whisper of leaves faded, replaced by something new, the low, steady sound of flowing water.
A few more steps forward.
The canopy broke open.
Dylan stopped dead in his tracks.
“…Holy fuck.”
Crystal-clear water flowed gently through a broad stream, its surface reflecting the afternoon sky like polished glass.
Beneath the current, silver fish drifted lazily, unhurried, while smooth white stones lined the riverbed below. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Tiny particles of mana floated just above the water, sparkling under the sunlight like scattered stars caught mid-fall.
Along the riverbank, clusters of pale flowers bloomed in quiet clusters, their slender stems swaying gently despite the complete absence of wind.
Soft blue light pulsed gently beneath every petal, giving the flowers an almost otherworldly glow.
The entire riverside looked dreamlike, untouched, serene, the kind of beauty that didn’t seem to belong to the world he knew.
It was beautiful enough that his thoughts gradually began to slow.
His breathing softened without him noticing.
Without realizing it, Dylan took another step forward.
Then another.
Something felt peaceful.
His hand rose slowly, almost on its own, reaching toward the nearest flower.
Smack.
His palm connected squarely with his own cheek.
The sharp sting cut through the haze instantly, shattering whatever strange calm had settled over his mind.
“…Right.”
He rubbed his cheek, letting out a slow breath.
“The mesmerizing effect.”
The Moonveil Herb possessed no natural poison.
Instead, it defended itself the way countless flowers did in nature through chemicals.
Except here, mana had twisted that simple survival mechanism into something far more dangerous than anything found in an ordinary field.
Countless microscopic spores drifted invisibly around each flower, impossible to see, impossible to avoid.
Once inhaled, they gently dulled a person’s desire to harvest them, replacing the urge to pick with a quiet, contented urge to simply watch.
The stronger the concentration, the more breathtaking the flowers appeared.
It was a cruel little trick of nature the very defense meant to keep them safe was also what drew people closer.
Many wandered to the riverbank, sat down, and stayed there for hours, utterly captivated, until the effect finally wore off on its own.
Some never even realized anything had happened at all.
“Readers probably cursed me for this one too.”
“Whatever,” he thought, slowing his approach toward the river before crouching down beside the water’s edge.
“So this is what genuinely pure water looks like.”
Most people assumed pure water was the healthiest thing imaginable.
It wasn’t.
Not here.
Moonveil continuously filtered mana impurities from its surroundings, leaving behind water saturated with concentrated natural essence.
Ordinary humans who drank too much would grow violently ill, and even most Awakeners struggled to digest it without proper refinement.
“Funny,” he murmured.
“The cleaner the water… the quicker it kills you.”
Despite saying that, curiosity got the better of him.
He pulled a small sample vial from his backpack and filled it.
“Research,” he said.
“…Definitely research.” He nodded once, thoroughly unconvinced by his own excuse, before sealing the container.
Only then did he reach toward the nearest Moonveil Herb.
Unlike before, his movements were slow and careful.
He loosened the surrounding soil first, protected the fragile roots with one hand, then gently lifted the entire plant free without damaging a single strand.
“One,” he muttered, sliding the herb into a specially prepared storage pouch.
He harvested a second.
Then a third.
As he secured them inside his bag, another thought quietly surfaced money.
The last time he’d checked, his bank account had barely contained four thousand dollars.
Which is not even enough to survive.
“I’m basically broke,” Dylan muttered as his gaze drifted across the riverside.
Plenty more Moonveil Herbs grew here, but selling them legally was impossible every specimen belonged to the Bureau by law, tagged and catalogued down to the last root fiber.
“…But I could sell them in the black market,” he muttered, the thought turning over in his mind.
The Black Market, the one place where any Awakened could buy or sell through brokers, no questions asked about status, background, or how you got your goods.
It was a haven for many illegal activities.
They even have an online website which made it possible for anyone to contact them from anywhere at anytime.
Risky, sure.
But that was kind of the point.
The Bureau had slapped a full ban on unauthorized moonveil transport, and naturally, that just meant one thing: a thriving little trafficking scene had sprung up to fill the gap.
“No matter what anyone says, Ban it hard enough, and someone’s always going to make bank smuggling it. It is basically impossible to stop human greed.” Dylan muttered, scratching his chin.
“Even so,” Dylan continued, “risky money was still money.”
“I suppose a few extras won’t hurt,” he said, pulling out a separate waterproof pouch and making absolutely certain it stayed isolated from the herbs meant for Ekaterina’s husband.
One by one, he harvested several additional specimens not enough to devastate the patch, just enough to make the trip worthwhile.
“Alright. Let’s head back to Pittsburg.”
With one final glance at the shimmering river, Dylan turned away and disappeared into the forest.