The forest gradually thinned behind him.
Ancient pines gave way to smaller trees, the thick scent of mana slowly fading until it blended with the familiar fragrance of damp earth and cultivated fields.
It had been more than a week since he’d last seen any sign of civilization the secret tunnel had turned out to be far more confusing than he’d first thought, swallowing up days he hadn’t planned to lose.
But by the time he made his way back through it, he’d already memorized every twist and turn, and that made the return trip to Pittsburg a whole lot easier.
Dylan stepped onto the old dirt road leading toward Pittsburg Town, the sun had already begun its slow descent beyond the western mountains.
Golden light spilled across the valley.
Long shadows stretched over the quiet countryside, while distant flocks of birds drifted lazily overhead on their journey home.
Dylan adjusted the straps of his backpack with a tired groan.
The familiar weight of Rain rested comfortable against his left hip, gently tapping his leg with every step.
“I’ve officially walked through enough mountains for a lifetime.”
His legs immediately protested.
“…on second thought,” he paused, “make that two lifetimes.”
The road ahead remained pleasantly empty.
Only the occasional wagon loaded with harvested crops rolled toward town, pulled by sturdy Mana Oxen whose dark hides shimmered faintly beneath the evening sunlight.
Their enormous horns curved backward like polished ivory.
Powerful, yet surprisingly gentle.
One of them lazily turned it’s head toward Dylan before continuing to chew whatever it has found particularly intresting.
“…You look expensive,” Dylan muttered, gently running his hand over the Mana Ox’s head.
The Mana Ox blinked then resumed chewing.
“…Fair enough.”
Dylan continued walking.
For the first time in days, there were no charging Mana Beasts, no abandoned tunnels, no ancient shrines waiting to test him, and no life-threatening puzzles lurking around every corner.
There weren’t even any trees trying to strangle him with their roots.
just quiet, ordinary stillness, the kind he’d almost forgotten existed
A pleasant breeze brushed against his face.
“…Nice.” He muttered closing his eyes for only a moment
A small wooden sign eventually appeared beside the road.
PITTSBURG TOWN Population: 87
“…Eighty-seven?”
He stared at the number.
“I genuinely wrote a town with fewer people than my middle school.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“…That actually makes this place more beautiful.”
The smile on his face grew slightly.
The town looked exactly as he remembered writing back in his previous life.
Although Pittsburg only Appeared twice or thrice in his original novel.
He wrote it with precise detailing.
Small cafés released the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread.
Children chased one another through the narrow streets, laughing as elderly neighbours watched from shaded porches.
Several Hunters wearing Bureau badges sat outside the local lodge, quietly discussing requests while cleaning their equipment.
Nobody seemed particularly hurried.
Life simply…
Moved.
Dylan slowly wandered through the main street.
His stomach growled loudly enough to earn a confused glance from a passing child.
“…Don’t judge me.”
The child gave Dylan one last frowning once-over before turning and walking on.
“…Rude.”
He sighed dramatically.
“I risk my life climbing mountains,” he muttered under his breath.
“I survive abandoned government tunnels. I solve an ancient shrine. And somehow, my greatest enemy remains starvation.” His eyes drifted toward a nearby bakery, where fresh bread sat cooling in the window, still warm enough to fog the glass.
The smell alone nearly made him consider changing careers on the spot.
“…Focus.”
He reluctantly tore his gaze away.
“I’m broke.”
“But looking doesn’t cost anything.” He gazed at them one last time.
A few more minutes passed before he stopped beside a small produce stall, where an elderly man was arranging baskets of glowing apples beneath a faded canvas awning.
Dylan approached with an easy smile.
“Excuse me.”
“How can I help you, young man?” the old man asked, looking up.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Oh?”
“It’s an old lady named Mrs. Ekaterina.”
The man’s weathered face immediately brightened.
“Ohh, you mean the Dragonfruit Farm lady?”
“So everyone really does know her.” Dylan muttered.
The old man laughed.
The old man laughed.
“Of course we do. There aren’t enough people here to stay strangers.” He pointed toward a narrow country road branching away from the town.
“Follow that road until the houses disappear, and you’ll start seeing dragonfruit vines. Only one family grows them, you can’t miss it.”
Dylan nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you.”
The old man waved dismissively.
“Tell Ivan he’s still terrible at fishing.”
“I’ll… keep that in mind.”
As Dylan resumed walking, he couldn’t help smiling to himself.
“…Small towns really are something else.”
Leaving the quiet streets behind, he followed the narrow road east.
Gradually, the houses became fewer.
Open fields replaced them.
Rows of fruit trees stretched across the gentle hills, their leaves shimmering faintly beneath the evening light.
Then…
He saw them.
Countless crimson dragonfruits hung from carefully cultivated vines supported by wooden frames stretching across several acres of farmland.
Even from a distance, they looked beautiful.
Each fruit glowed faintly with delicate blue veins of mana.
Nestled beside the orchard stood a modest wooden farmhouse.
Thin curls of smoke drifted lazily from its chimney.
Warm light spilled through the windows.
Someone was home.
Dylan slowed his steps.
“…Looks like I found it.”
He adjusted the backpack resting on his shoulders.
Inside…
Carefully protected beneath several layers of cloth…
Rested three freshly harvested Moonveil Herbs.
He looked toward the warmly lit farmhouse.
“…Let’s hope I’m not too late.”
He walked toward the front gate.
Dylan stopped before the wooden gate and quietly admired the farmhouse one last time.
Warm light spilled through the windows.
Somewhere inside, he could hear faint laughter followed by a fit of coughing.
He raised his hand.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
A few moments later, footsteps approached the door.
The handle turned.
The door slowly swung open.
For a brief second, the elderly woman simply stared at him.
Then her blue eyes widened.
“Dylan?”
A bright smile immediately spread across her face.
“Oh my goodness, You actually came!”
“I said I would.”
“You did.” She laughed softly before stepping aside.
“Don’t just stand there.”
“Come inside, it would be rude to keep a guest waiting on the porch.”
“Then I’d hate to be responsible for such terrible manners.”
She chuckled.
“I try.” Dylan said with a cheerful smile
The warmth inside the farmhouse immediately chased away the cool evening air.
The house wasn’t large.
Wooden floors creaked beneath every step, family photographs decorated the walls, and the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air.
Everything felt…
Lived in.
Real.
Near the fireplace sat an elderly man wrapped in a thick woollen blanket.
His body was painfully thin, his cheeks hollow, and his once-broad shoulders had wasted away until the chair beneath him seemed almost too large.
Every few breaths, a quiet cough escaped him.
Even so…
His eyes remained lively.
“So.”
The old man folded his arms.
“You’re the young fellow who made my wife laugh all the way home.”
Dylan blinked.
“…I plead guilty.”
“Hmph.”
The old man narrowed his eyes.
“You’ve been causing trouble already.”
“I call it emotional support.” Dylan retorted back
“I call it stealing my wife’s attention.”
Ekaterina sighed.
“Oh, Ivan.”
“What? I’m only saying what every husband would.”
Dylan scratched his cheek.
“So, should I apologise?”
Ivan pretended to think.
“Hmm, you could,” Ivan paused “But I’d probably forgive you anyway.”
Dylan smiled.
“I was worried I’d have to duel for her honour.”
Ivan snorted.
“With these old bones?”
He lifted one trembling arm.
“I’d lose before standing up.”
The three of them laughed together.
Ekaterina shook her head with an affectionate smile.
“You two sound like you’ve known each other for years.”
“I like him.” Ivan admitted.
“He’s got a smart mouth.”
“I’ve been told.”
“I can see why.”
Ekaterina walked into the kitchen.
“I’ll bring something warm.”
A few minutes later she returned carrying three steaming mugs.
She carefully handed one to Dylan.
“Warm milk with honey.”
“It isn’t much.”
Dylan accepted it with both hands.
“It smells amazing.”
He took a careful sip.
The warmth spread through his body almost instantly.
“…This is really good.”
“I’m glad.”
As Ekaterina sat opposite him, her eyes naturally drifted toward his waist.
She tilted her head.
“You have a sword now.”
Dylan glanced down at Rain resting quietly against his hip.
“I do.”
“So, I take it your journey was successful?”
Her smile became gentle.
He looked at the Jian for a brief moment before nodding.
“…It was.”
Then he slowly removed his backpack.
“I actually came for another reason.”
Both of them watched curiously as he opened one of the carefully protected compartments.
Wrapped inside several layers of cloth rested three pale-blue herbs whose translucent leaves shimmered faintly beneath the room’s light.
The moment Ivan saw them his breathing stopped.
“…No.” His voice barely escaped as a whisper.
Ekaterina slowly covered her mouth.
“No…”
Her eyes immediately became wet.
“…Moonveil.”
Neither of them moved.
They simply stared.
Dylan gently placed the herbs onto the wooden table.
“I found them.”
Silence filled the room.
Ivan slowly shook his head.
“We…”
“We can’t accept something like this.”
“It’s worth far too much.”
Ekaterina nodded through trembling breaths.
“Please…”
“We could never repay you.”
“You don’t have to.” Dylan pushed the herbs slightly closer.
“The dragonfruit you gave me helped more than you realise, it kept me going.”
“But—”
“If you still feel guilty then feed me a dinner” He smiled.
The old couple looked at each other.
After several long seconds…
Ivan let out a defeated sigh.
“…You’ve trapped us.”
“I try to be efficient.”
Ekaterina laughed through the tears gathering in her eyes.
“You really are impossible.”
“I’ve heard that before too.”
She carefully picked up the herbs as though they were made of glass.
Her hands trembled.
“Thank you…”
“No.”
“Truly.”
Dylan nodded toward the herbs.
“Use them gradually.”
“Boil a small amount into water or mix tiny portions into food.”
“Don’t rush it.”
“The body needs time to recover.”
“Taking too much at once won’t help.”
Ivan listened carefully.
“And…”
Dylan’s expression became serious.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Not your neighbours.”
“Not your friends.”
“Not even your doctor.”
The couple looked surprised.
“Why?”
“If people learn you have them…”
He shrugged.
“It’ll only invite unnecessary attention.”
Ivan slowly nodded.
“…Understood, We’ll keep it between us.”
“Good.” Dylan muttered letting out a breathe of relief.
The heavy atmosphere gradually disappeared as Ekaterina insisted on preparing dinner.
Before long, the small dining table filled with homemade dishes.
Fresh bread.
Vegetable stew.
Roasted potatoes.
Dragonfruit salad.
Simple food.
Yet somehow, It felt richer than any expensive restaurant.
Halfway through dinner, Ivan suddenly looked up.
“So.”
Dylan looked back.
“So, Are you single?”
Dylan nearly choked on his drink.
“…Yeah.”
The old couple froze.
Both of them stared at him in complete disbelief.
Dylan looked between them.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ekaterina frowned.
“How are you still single?”
He blinked.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I’m average.”
Ivan immediately shook his head.
“Average?”
He pointed directly at Dylan.
“You’ve got manners.”
“You can hold a conversation.”
“You made my wife laugh which is impossible even for me.”
“You carried medicine worth a fortune across a mountain.”
“What part of that sounds average?”
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck.
“…I don’t know.”
“I just…”
“…Am.”
Ivan leaned back thoughtfully.
“Hmm, maybe it’s because you’re short.”
Dylan stared.
“…Excuse me?”
“You’re short.”
“I’m five foot seven.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not short.”
Ivan nodded confidently.
“It is.”
“It objectively isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
Dylan looked toward Ekaterina.
“Please tell him.”
She smiled innocently into her soup.
“I’m staying out of this.”
Ivan pointed triumphantly.
“See? I have witness immunity.”
Dylan sighed dramatically.
“I climb one mountain and immediately get bullied by pensioners.”
Ivan laughed loudly enough to trigger another coughing fit.
Even then…
He couldn’t stop smiling.
“You might be short.”
Ivan finally said after recovering.
“But you’ve got the look.”
“The right girl will see it.”
Dylan simply shook his head with an embarrassed smile.
“…I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Hours passed surprisingly quickly.
Eventually, Dylan stood.
“I should get going.”
Ekaterina immediately looked disappointed.
“So soon?”
“I have somewhere else I need to be, Nexus Academy won’t wait for me.”
Ivan slowly nodded.
“That’s true, but promise us something.”
Dylan looked at him.
“Come back, this old house gets lonely.” Ivan said in a low voice.
A warm smile spread across Dylan’s face.
“…I will.”
“I’ll visit whenever I’m nearby.”
Ekaterina disappeared into the kitchen before returning with several neatly packed containers.
“You liked the stew.”
“So I packed some.”
“And bread.”
“And dragonfruit.”
“And…”
Dylan laughed.
“I don’t think my backpack has infinite space.”
“It has enough.”
She gently pushed the containers into his hands.
“No arguing.”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
Together, the old couple walked him to the front gate.
The evening sky had turned orange.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of dragonfruit blossoms across the fields.
“Take care of yourself.”
Ekaterina said softly.
“And eat properly.”
Ivan folded his arms.
“And don’t let anyone convince you five foot seven isn’t short.”
Dylan groaned.
“I’m never escaping this, am I?”
“Never.”
They all laughed.
With one final wave, Dylan turned and began walking back toward Pittsburg Town.
After several dozen steps…
He looked back.
The old couple were still standing by the gate.
Smiling.
Waiting until he disappeared from sight.
A small smile found its way onto Dylan’s face.
“I think I got a pair of grandparents.”
The thought felt strangely comforting.
Then he adjusted the weight of his backpack and continued toward the bus stop, the farmhouse slowly disappearing behind the quiet fields beneath the fading light of sunset.