“Greetings, guest from afar. I am Moat, the Sage of these marshes!”
“So you are Moat! Honestly, we were on the way to look for you!” Greem was somewhat shocked. He became warier of the uncanny omniscience of these Sages.
“Guest from afar, before we find a place to talk, don’t you think…you could save Blackwing first?” Moat might look small in size, but there was no fear or humility in his voice. Instead, his voice was filled with a commanding confidence.
Greem raised his right hand and looked at the charred creature in his grasp. He chuckled slightly.
“I’m only good at setting fires, not so much at saving people. If you, sir, have some way of healing him, I will be more than willing to witness your powers!”
“Very well, since you have no objections, just hand him over to me.” Moat’s face was still hidden beneath the seaweeds, making it hard to see the changes to his expression.
He was leaning on a black staff that was slightly taller than himself. He tapped the staff against the ground, and a green beam of light landed on the Blackwing.
The charred skin on its body crackled and fell off, revealing a new layer of skin beneath. Even though it was on death’s door earlier, the Blackwing instantly became lively once more. However, out of fear of Greem’s might, it remained limp on the ground, not daring to move a single inch.
Since a Fourth Grade Sage was asking for mercy for this creature, Greem had no choice but to relent.
He snorted lightly and waved his right hand, cutting off the Blackwing’s poison stinger.
The stinger fell onto the mushroom cap and bounced slightly. The Blackwing trembled in pain, but it didn’t dare to struggle too much.
“Go. Next time, use your eyes and don’t make an enemy of someone stronger than you!” Greem cast the Blackwing aside and kept the poison stinger for himself.
There were some scales on the poison stinger as well. That was more than enough for him to examines the scale powder!
The Third Grade Blackwing instantly flew away without turning back once it was released. Its unreasonable, barbaric aura of ferocity was also gone.
Moat did not object to any of this and watched on calmly.
Greem smiled when he smelled the fragrant smell of stew from beneath the mushroom. He invited Moat graciously, “Emelia’s meat stew is done. Sir Moat, why don’t you grace us with your presence and join us for dinner!”
Moat smiled.
“I hope I won’t be a bother!”
Emelia wasn’t at all surprised at the sudden appearance of Moat, the Sage of the Marshes. They had come into contact with a Sage of another region before this, after all. These Sages seemed to have an unusual way of communicating amongst themselves.
Thus, Emelia had predicted that Moat would find them a day after they entered the Wetland Marshes.
She diligently helped the two Fourth Grades sit by the fire and filled a large bowl of stew for each of them. The three of them then feasted on it, along with a helping of bread and cheese.
Greem glanced at this Sage of the Marshes with his unusual appearance as they ate. Finally, he couldn’t help but ask, “Sir Moat, may I know what species you are exactly?”
In all honesty, Greem had been trying to guess at Moat’s species from the moment he saw him. Unfortunately, every one of his guesses didn’t quite fit the mark.
“Hahaha. My species might be somewhat out of your expectations,” Moat chuckled and said, “I am a Swamp Giant!”
A Swamp Giant. A one-meter-tall Swamp Giant.
Greem was utterly stunned in confusion when he heard Moat’s reply.
Chapter 1200 - The Blight
Greem had seen plenty of Swamp Giants on the way here.
They were humanoid creatures, wide and bulky, with massive bodies, thick legs, and tentacle-like arms. Their bodies were also covered in many strange, tumor-like growths.
An adolescent Swamp Giant was an average of ten meters tall. Even juvenile Swamp Giants were at least three meters tall.
Yet, Sage Moat was claiming that he was a Swamp Giant. That…was slightly beyond Greem’s comprehension.
It made Greem more certain that Sage Moat was certainly a deviant, even amongst the Swamp Giants.
Only someone with exceptional talent could outshine the rest of the Swamp Giants and become the guide, observer, and Sage of the massive Marsh Wetlands.
Greem fumbled for words for a few seconds before finally nodding, “It seems you must be an exceptional person, even among the Swamp Giants. Otherwise, you couldn’t have reached your current level.”
Even though he was already a Fourth Grade that stood far above most planar creatures, Sage Moat still lived a simple and humble life. Greem could barely see any of the blinding energy radiance given off by high-grade equipment on his body.
There were no energy signatures on the moss robe he was wearing, the staff he was holding, or any planar law flux unique to high-grade items. These were obviously just mundane items. In all honesty, even an ordinary apprentice adept in the World of Adepts would not be so poor!
However, Greem quickly understood the situation.
After all, the creation of any high-grade item required a tremendous amount of alchemical knowledge as support, as well as many forging techniques and methods. This knowledge didn’t come just from the inspiration of one or two geniuses. It was an accumulation of experience over generations.
Meanwhile, the Spirit World had not constructed a centralized system of knowledge and legacy.
Their Sages and powerhouses were scattered across the Spirit World like loose pearls, lacking a single thread that could unite them into a unified force.
If one were being nice, you could call this being free, and if you wanted to be honest, you would say that they were in a state of disunity!
No wonder Moat lived such a simple, crude life even though he was a Fourth Grade.
The two Fourth Grades sat by the campfire, enjoying the stew made out of fire dragon ribs. The rich energy aura in the stew stirred Moat’s appetite as well. He devoured his portion in the blink of an eye.
“What meat is this? The fire aura in it is so dense,” Moat enjoyed his meal tremendously. When he let out a burp, a small burst of fire flared from his mouth. “It’s good…so good! I haven’t had ribs with so much kick in my life!”
“It’s Third Grade fire dragon meat,” Emelia giggled as she continued stirring the metal pot with a ladle. “This is the fire dragon feast that only our clan leader gets to enjoy. If it weren’t for you today, our clan leader wouldn’t have been sharing it with us!”
“Fire dragon meat…and Third Grade!” Moat couldn’t help but gasp in surprise.
Dragons were terrifying creatures that reigned over the skies in the eyes of the Sages.
Moat might be a Fourth Grade, but if he were to challenge a Fourth Grade dragon, he would have no chance of victory. Moat didn’t even have absolute confidence in defeating a Third Grade dragon.
The most important reason for that was the dragons’ ability to fly, as well as their fearsome breath. Having Moat fight against the dragons when they could fly and he couldn’t was a ridiculous proposition.
He couldn’t pursue them or hit them.
Even Moat couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of dragons.
As it goes, when you eat someone’s bread, you owe someone a favor!
Moat hesitated for a brief moment. Finally, he took out some dried mushrooms tied in a string and tossed them into the pot.
“Since you were so generous as to treat me with fire dragon meat, I can’t be holding back either. These are Giant Shiitake Mushrooms unique to the Marsh Wetlands. Their fragrance lingers for a long time and is the best condiment to any dish. Moreover, if you eat these mushrooms for a long time, it will improve your Physique as well!”
“Oh? It’s beneficial to one’s Physique?” Even Greem couldn’t help but be moved when he heard this.
Elementium adepts like himself, whose
Physique had reached 32 points, were already a rarity. Trying to improve Physique further at this point was exceedingly difficult.
Of course, if Greem used the body-refining adept’s method of stimulating the body, there would still be room for improvement. However, those methods often came at the cost of Spirit. Greem could not possibly resort to such measures!
Thus, Greem couldn’t help but pick up one of the cooked mushrooms and place it into his mouth when he heard of their wondrous benefit.
The mushroom was fragrant, and its texture was smooth.
While Greem was tasting the mushroom, his Spirit was focused on the Chip’s report.
[Beep. Detecting strange, high-energy material. Edible. Said material’s fragrance contains elements that are capable of asserting beneficial stimulation to cells. Estimates suggest that the host’s Physique will improve slightly after consuming the material. Host will have to consume the material 100 times to improve Physique by 1 point. Resistance to improvement is estimated to be after 210 servings.]
Greem instantly drew in a breath of cold air when he saw the Chip’s analysis.
Didn’t this mean that his Physique could still improve by 2 points if he continued to consume these mushrooms?
The fundamental benefit that 2 points of Physique could bring for a Fourth Grade fire adept like himself was far more than 5 or 6 points for a low-grade adept. If these 2 points of Physique could be provided to Fourth Grade body-refining adepts, it would only bring them more benefit.
If the Crimson Clan got their hands on these mushrooms and sold them in the World of Adepts, it would surely drive the Fourth Grade adepts mad with desire.
After all, at their level, there were simply far too few means by which to improve any of their attributes by 2 points without any drawbacks.
Greem remained silent for a moment. He couldn’t help but speak up, “Sage Moat, will you be willing to trade the spores of these Giant Shiitake Mushrooms? If you are willing, I can trade some knowledge and materials with you.”
“These Giant Shiitake Mushrooms are a special mushroom that I managed to breed. If you want the mushrooms themselves, I’m happy to give you a batch of them. But if you want the spores, then…”
“Then?”
“Then, you will have to help me with something!”
Greem wasn’t surprised at Sage Moat’s suggestion. Instead, he looked calmly at him. “What is it?”
“Several small lakes in the Marsh Wetlands have gone dry mysteriously without any reason over the past few years, reduced to dead, dry mud. Many Fungus Giants, Swamp Lords, and other creatures living in these places have contracted a terrifying blight. Swamp creatures infected by this blight show obvious signs of decay on their bodies. They then go mad and start attacking everything around them.”
Greem listened silently to Moat’s explanation. His eyebrow was raised slightly, as if deep in thought.
“You mean…you want me to investigate the cause of this blight for you?”
“Yes. As long as you can find the source of the blight, I can give you the Giant Shiitake Mushroom spores as a reward. If you can eliminate the source of the blight, I have two more special mushrooms in my possession. One is beneficial to the Spirit, and the other benefits elementium affinity.”
“Hss…” Greem drew in a breath of cold air once more. When he looked at Moat again, it was as if he was looking at a walking treasury.
Even a sunken ship had three pounds of nails in it!
He honestly had never expected that this seemingly poor and broke Sage Moat could have treasures that would move even him.
However, even the best treasures could not get in the way of his central purpose here!
Greem fell silent for a moment before speaking, “Sage Moat, in all honesty, we are here at the Marsh Wetlands for the Primal Water. Before we get our hands on the Primal Water, I don’t wish to branch off into other affairs.”
“Primal Water?” Moat turned and looked at Emelia, before calmly saying, “This little girl didn’t provoke you into coming here, did she? There is indeed Primal Water here in the Marsh Wetlands. It is kept in the holy lands of the magical sporepeople. If you want to obtain the Primal Water, you will unavoidably clash with them!”
“Yes. That is why I want to hear your opinion before I head to the Spore Forest!”
Moat fell silent.
After a long pause, he finally said: “You must have heard the news of the Marsh Wetlands along the way. Over the past few years, there have been drastic changes happening here. The driving force behind the changes is the leader of the magical sporepeople, Fahssn, the lord of the Fungi Giants Kalvax, and several other independent Swamp Lords.
“So, I suggest you accept this request to investigate the blight! With the investigation as an excuse, you can brazenly enter most regions in the Marsh Wetlands without being stopped by the local creatures. If I am not wrong, this calamity that has befallen the Marsh Wetlands is very likely to have something to do with the actions of the magical sporepeople.”
Greem’s eyes gleamed when he heard Moat’s words.
“You mean to say that if the blight does have something to do with the magical sporepeople, you will be willing to act as well?”
“Not just me,” Moat tapped his staff angrily. “I have contacted Mortok, the King of the Hydras and Morses Lightwing, the Leader of the Sporebats. As long as you produce sufficient evidence, I will personally exile those bastards from the Marsh Wetlands!”
It seemed like the calamity of the Marsh Wetlands had caused Moat to become uncharacteristically furious.
Chapter 1201 - The Dead Mire
Spirit World, the Marsh Wetlands.
Coilfang Cave.
It was a vast body of water in the northwestern corner of the Wetlands.
Some called it a lake and others called it a sea. However, with his experience, Greem could see that this was an inland sea.
Greem glided about forty meters in the sky, riding on a large sporebat. He flew along the river as they wound down the landscape, making his way into the region where the mist was thickest.
“This is the Niga Waterway. It is mainly merlocs and lobstroks that live here. They don’t get along well and are almost always at war with each other.” The large sporebat was an intelligent Second Grade creature. As such, he was far more respectful towards Greem than the other sporebats were.
Greem looked around curiously when he heard the sporebat’s explanations.
A massive waterway, about a hundred meters wide, was flowing beneath him and between the forests of mushrooms.
Several small streams split off from the waterway every few kilometers, forming small ponds and puddles here and there. The village of the merlocs was built above a shallow pool. They were all simple wooden huts of crude, shoddy work.
When the sporebat flew past the merlocs’ village, Greem could see their ugly, dark green figures chasing after each other as they garbled in their strange language.
“What sort of merlocs are they? Mirefins, or Inkspewers?” Blue light flickered in Greem’s eyes as he quickly recorded the appearance of these merlocs. The Chip then started comparing them to the information in the database.
The Chip’s data revealed that there was a 67% chance they were Mirefins, 25% they were Inkspewers, and a 7% chance they were Tidecallers. The chance that they were any other type of merloc was lower than 1% and was not displayed.
“They are Mirefin merlocs!” The sporebat turned its head and replied as it weaved between several tall mushrooms, “You adepts are truly knowledgeable and powerful individuals. To think you would even know of beings as weak as Mirefin merlocs.”
Greem didn’t mind the sporebat’s reverence. He simply looked into the distance, observing the looming figures standing upon some small isles in the middle of the waterway.
These creatures were like magnified lobsters. They walked upright like humans, walking around with the four limbs extending from their flat abdomens and intimidating
their enemies with their two strong claws.
Compared to the merlocs, the lobstroks were larger, more muscular, and more ferocious. A thick shell protected their bodies, and a layer of moss grew on their shells. The crude spears and blades of the merlocs could not break their shells and even simply slipped past the moss, making it very difficult for the merlocs to inflict any serious damage.
It was no wonder the lobstroks had taken up the best hunting positions in the center of the waterway, while the merlocs had been chased away to a relatively remote corner.
The food of the merlocs and lobstroks were the various fish that swam in the waterway.
The merlocs were chasing after the sporebat, garbling as they hurled their javelins into the air, only for the projectiles to fall limply back to the ground, impaling several of their own kind instead.
“They seem to be hostile towards you?” Greem asked.
“My people will sometimes come over and eat a few merlocs when they get bored with mushrooms. That’s why we aren’t on good terms with the merlocs!” The sporebat gave a simple explanation.
He couldn’t help but smile when he recalled the fresh taste of merloc flesh.
“Does the Sage not restrict such acts of ‘killing’?”
“Killing? No, no, no. This isn’t killing; it’s hunting. The merlocs are far too good at reproducing. Without someone to limit their population, they would be able to stuff every inch of the Marsh Wetlands with their green forms. They have no restraint. Thus, we eat the merlocs, the merlocs eat the aquatic creatures, and the aquatic creatures eat the mud. These are the rights bestowed us by the planar laws. Even the revered Sages cannot take these rights away from us!”
Greem couldn’t help but nod when he heard the sporebat’s reply.
Many of the Second Grade creatures in the World of Adepts were still stuck in a primal, instinctual state of intelligence. Yet, an ordinary Second Grade sporebat of the Spirit World already had such a deep understanding of its world.
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