After Monica walked out of the tent, she exhaled in relief.

  It had been a scary experience with the mystic.

  Were all fortune readers like that?

  No wonder Morus didn’t allow her to get her fortune read.

  She would have felt so transparent in front of them, they probably even knew what color underwear she was wearing.

  Once her thoughts calmed down from the small spike of adrenaline, Monica looked down at Vigil to pet the cute snowball.

  Something was amiss.

  The cute expressive snowball was not looking at her, it was looking at the tent behind her.

  To make matters worse, Vigil wasn’t even moving. She could not hear nor see him breathe.

  Monica looked up, towards the two women by the treeline, she waved at them. They did not wave back, they just stood there.

  Staring.

  Unmoving.

  Frozen.

  A flash of panic surged up Monica’s chest.

  Before she could move or do anything, she felt it.

  Someone or something hugged her from behind.

  A pair of hands wrapped themselves around her chest. The feeling against her back told her in no uncertain terms, that whoever was behind her, was a she.

  Monica looked down at the arms of the woman hugging her.

  They were resplendent and glittered under the now-still sky.

  A melancholic voice broke the silence.

  “Monica.”

  A voice filled with affection and radiated with safety, though it did not belong to anybody she was familiar with.

  Monica’s nerves relaxed, just before she spoke, the woman continued.

  “You are sought after by my kind. For most, it is a desired blessing. For some, it is an unwanted curse. I’m sure you would carve out your destiny.”

  A warning tone, not a hostile one.

  “Goodbye, Monica. Your greatest treasures are beside you.”

  She said with a longing voice.

  Then the hands unwrapped themselves around the young girl. The warmth that she had been feeling was gone.

  Monica turned around, wanting to ask her who she was.

  As soon as she did, she was met with the face of her brother.

  Morus cocked an eyebrow at his sister, “Yes?”

  Vigil immediately stood up, he stared at the siblings.

  Behind him, the two women whispered to each other.

  “Hey Asa, did you see what happened?”

  “No. She appeared suddenly.”

  “You think they found anything?”

  “Let’s just ask.”

  With that, Asa called out to the siblings.

  “You two found anything? Is the mystic there?”

  “Yeah, we talked with her. Received our affinities and all.” shouted Morus to the two women, Monica and Vigil walking behind him.

  Monica wondered if the Goddess that just hugged her was just a hallucination, but the lingering warmth on her back told her it was real. Magic was real. Gods were real. This world is real.

  Asa and Ban looked at each other, confusion on their faces for a moment, then Asa nodded to Ban.

  Ban understood the message and stated.

  “We saw you two walk in and almost immediately walk back out. But Nichole kinda just blinked out.”

  This time, the siblings looked at each other, trying to confirm that what they had experienced within the tent was not a fever dream. They looked back towards the tent, but the flaps were covering the entrance, then they looked back at each other, the answer clear in their eyes.

  “I see… How long has it been?” Morus turned towards Asa.

  “10 seconds, 15 seconds at most.”

  “Weird. Regardless, our business here is concluded. Shall we head back for lunch? Or should we help out elsewhere?”

  Asa smiled at the older sibling for offering their help, then the ranger looked up at the sky, “Lunch is almost upon us. Let us return, and you may visit any of us should you wish to help us after lunch.”

  Morus nodded, with Monica mimicking her brother absent-mindedly.

  Then the party of four plus one companion made their way back into the village, through the way they came.

  Asa climbed over the walls with unnatural speed and opened the gates.

  The gates closed behind them then they made their way towards the Dining Hall.

  Ban mentioned that the siblings could come pick up their spare clothes at her workshop, which they greatly appreciated. Ban also asked Monica if she wanted a satchel to keep her items, which the girl graciously accepted.

  After that, Morus and Monica went back into their respective guest rooms to drop off their stuff, brush their teeth with a bristle brush and tooth powder obtained from Herbalist Ren, before meeting the same lunch group in the dining hall.

  Morus and Monica picked up their own food. There was rice, sweet and sour meat — venison assumed, steamed eggs and a herbal broth soup. The siblings, not forgetting their new mascot, also prepared a plate filled to the brim with sweet and sour meat.

  Gad was quite surprised when he saw Morus was packing almost the same amount of food he had on his plate. When probed, Morus just said he had found his appetite.

  Not long after the lunch group sat down, Herbalist Ren entered the Dining Hall, meeting eyes with Morus, she smiled and nodded at him, then continued on her way.

  It could have been a hunch, but the siblings felt that the atmosphere within the Dining Hall felt much more pleasant and cheerful compared to yesterday, But they chalked it up to the villagers having a good day.

  Morus, being eager to both get rid of the terminal illness that had plagued him for the past 20 years, as well as starving to eat his fill after so many years, wolfed down his food at a speed that put Gad and Vigil to shame.

  Monica chuckled at the scene, remembering what Herbalist Ren told them earlier. The solution Herbalist Ren had told them was surprisingly simple.

  “It will take years. Months at least. First, if you stay in an area filled with mana, your symptoms will recover quicker. The richer the better, but you need to take it slow.”

  “Secondly, mana enriched foods will help. Usually, the more dangerous a beast is, the more mana they contain, but also the greater chance of it messing with your mind or body. However, a good chef will be able to enhance and amplify the benefits while removing the deficits of the raw ingredients when made into a meal.”

  “Last but not least. Remember to take things slowly. Have you heard that starving people shouldn’t eat too much food? Yes? Good. The same applies for you, food is fine, but be careful when dealing with mana. And under no circumstances empty your mana reserves again before you are healthy. It will be catastrophic and leave behind an incurable void.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  ?( ? ? ?)?

  ?/づ??

  After cleaning up their dishes, the siblings split up. Monica followed after Ban, asking for more lessons. Ban tried to decline, but Monica promised that she wouldn’t get in her way of work.

  Meanwhile, Morus went to search for Chief Ata, finding him at the main gates with the help of Gad.

  “Walk with me, lad.” The Chief said, letting Gad take over sentry duty. “I’ll introduce you to the farmers.”

  The farmer quadruplets were outside the tailor’s workshop, sitting on the bench, out of the sun.

  Chief Ata presented the farmers, and introduced them to Morus, “LiChun, LiXia, LiQiu, LiDong.”

  The farmers stood up and nodded at Morus.

  Morus just stared blankly at the quadruplets, as the four carbon copies of a middle aged man with wispy beards, stood side by side in front of him.

  Not just because of that, but because of their names, though he didn’t have time to wonder because they wanted to shake his hand.

  “Spring.”

  “Summer.”

  “Autumn.”

  “Winter.”

  The first brother added, “In the common tongue, that is.”

  Still somewhat confused, Morus looked at the tools they were carrying.

  In order, they carried a pickaxe, a spade, a rake and two hand sickles.

  Then he realized he forgot to introduce himself.

  “I’m Russel, glad to meet you four. Might I ask where you got your names from?”

  The quadruplets looked at each other, then at their oldest brother, as the supposedly younger three shrugged at the same time.

  “Big Bro did.”

  “One day.”

  “Goblins came.”

  “Into our cave.”

  The eyes of the four siblings lit up with a fire in them, the earth seemed to have started rumbling.

  “We were hiding.”

  “We killed them.”

  “When we went outside.”

  “Our garden was in flames.”

  They spoke calmly, as if just recounting a casual event of the past. Though the veins bulging on their hands as their grip tightened around their tools spoke otherwise.

  “The goblins did it.”

  “There was a mountain of corpses.”

  “All of ‘em goblins.”

  The quadruplets have been through such situations countless times, their voices filled with despair and tiredness.

  “Big Bro stood there.” A renewed sense of life from the eldest.

  “A dead goblin in his hands.”

  “He threw it.”

  “Landed on the pile.”

  “Asked us.”

  “Our names.”

  The farmers looked at each other, communicating telepathically, or perhaps through a bond of blood and shared experiences.

  “No names.”

  “Nameless.”

  “Homeless.”

  “We only had each other.”

  “He gave us names.” At that, the four brothers bowed in sync. Not towards Morus, but paying respects towards a great person of their past.

  Morus was dumbfounded. This was beyond the realm of twins finishing each other’s sentences. They told him a story with each brother taking a turn, and it synced.

  “That’s amazing.”

  Morus took a moment to process his thoughts.

  “I’ve never seen goblins before, what were they like?”

  “Green.”

  “Short.”

  “Ugly.”

  “Disgusting.”

  Spoken by them as if to cement a point, hatred gathering in their eyes.

  “Thieves.”

  “Raiders.”

  “Bandits.”

  “Pillagers.”

  Shots fired one after the other. Each copy angrier than the last, their faces more contorted with each word, as they seethed through gritted teeth.

  Chief Ata raised a hand to calm the farmers, they were starting to get heated.

  “It’s fortunate that you haven’t. They are revolting creatures.” Chief Ata nodded at the farmer brothers. “We’ll be leaving now. Do start taking stock of our supplies for our pending departure.”

  “Yes Chief.” The farmers chorused, their calm demeanor returned, as if what Morus just witnessed was but a hallucination.

  When each of the quadruplets spoke, their voices were similar. Now that they are speaking in sync, Morus realized that each of them had a slightly different pitch, but it was nigh impossible to tell them apart with how short he’s known them.

  Once the old man and young man were out of earshot of the middle-aged men, “How do you tell them apart?”

  The old man guffawed.

  “You think I’m able to?”

  He slapped his knee as he walked.

  “They always carry the same tool. Without that, nobody could tell them apart.”

  Morus nodded his head in disbelief, “That makes sense.”

  “Anyways, we’re headed to my office. I have something to discuss with you.”

  ??- ? -??⌒)?

  Vigil laid in Monica’s lap as she sat on a couch, enjoying being petted as his owner listened to Ban’s lesson.

  Ban, meanwhile, was using a needle and thread to stitch leather into a satchel.

  They were in Ban’s workshop, on the second floor. Spools of thread of mostly white and various colors gathered on one side of her table. The other side was filled with different tools that a tailor may or may not use.

  In the open shelves against the wall, rows upon rows of rolled leather rested on them. There were a great number of them, too many to count and at least over a hundred, accrued over the years.

  The room itself pleasantly smelled like a mixture of earth and wood, and was quite well ventilated.

  “Nichole, show me what you’ve got!”

  “Alright Ban!” Monica concentrated, and a marble of light floated towards Ban from Monica’s fingers.

  “Hah! That’s cute! Baby steps!” Ban giggled.

  Monica pouted.

  “Oh come on! Isn’t this normal being my first time using magic?”

  “I mean, I guess?” Ban’s hands stopped for a moment as she looked at Monica. “The size of your light ball is based on your imagination and how much mana you put into it.”

  Monica took Ban’s advice to heart and tried again, focusing all her mental power into her fingertips.

  “Pfft! No no no! Don’t scrunch your face up! That’s not how you do it!” Ban stifled her laughter as she helped Monica get things right.

  “Huh? Okay? How do I do it then?”

  Ban fanned her face as it was getting red from how amusing the girl in front of her was acting.

  “Alright! First, you need to have a clear imagery of what you want to make. How bright it is. How would you like it to act? Do you want it to follow you? Stick to the walls? Or just stay in place? While you’re imagining it, use your mana to make it into existence.”

  Monica exhaled, then took in a deep breath. She tried following Ban’s guidance.

  She closed her eyes and imagined a bubble forming between her hands. She ‘blew’ into the bubble, making it bigger until it eventually became a cube before her. She visualized it to be around the size of a tin can.

  When the girl felt light shining on her eyelids, she opened her eyes, and saw a dice-sized cuboid of light.

  “Great attempt!” Ban clapped her hands enthusiastically.

  Monica frowned a little, because she was aiming for something bigger and brighter.

  A droplet of water hit Monica’s face. She turned to look at Ban.

  Vigil looked up at Monica, then at Ban as well, lowering his head because he knew this was not his fight.

  Ban had her hands on her waist and a stern look on her face, “Hey young lady. I don’t know what you were thinking! But you need to learn to crawl before you can fly, alright!”

  Monica raised a finger and her hand drooped down.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Though I think you are skipping quite a few steps there before flying.”

  The girl squeezed her cheeks with her palms, “I guess practice makes perfect. Any tips?”

  Ban put a finger under her lower lip, “Just one. Don’t overuse your mana. Though you’ll feel it.”

  “What does that feel like?” Monica leaned forward a little, almost pushing Vigil off her lap, but pulled him back before that happened.

  Ban grinned mischievously at the girl, “You’ll know.” and winked.

  The tailor turned back towards her project and continued working on it.

  “Say Ban.” Monica called out, “What are goblins like? I’ve never met one before.”

  “Hmm…” Ban’s hands stopped for a moment, before they continued again. “Imagine rats. But the size of a ten year old child. Intelligent, not as intelligent as humans though. They are the nightmares of many people. They lived in warrens, ruins, once-settlements, I heard they conquered a city at one point.”

  The imagery of a rat-man half of Monica’s size popped into her mind.

  The tailor continued. “They are always in groups. The smallest ones have five, more or less. The larger groups can go up to a few hundred.”

  Monica shuddered, “Were they all armed?”

  “With anything they could find. Some used adventuring equipment from, you guessed it, dead adventurers. Some from still-alive adventurers. Clubs, spears and bows were more common. Once in a while they had their magic casters, shamans, or even larger goblins the size of Gad.”

  Monica’s face paled from thinking of a muscular goblin that could go toe-to-toe with Gad, she looked down at Vigil. Her Guardian shot her a look that said, ‘Don’t worry, I will protect you.’

  “That sounds scary.”

  “They were!” Ban squealed. “And I’m done!”

  Ban picked up the satchel and showed it to Monica.

  Monica looked at the finished product, it was basically a handbag that rivaled the luxury brands she knew from her old world, but slightly bigger.

  “Too bad we don’t have a rune mage or a space mage around these parts! They’ll be able to enchant this beauty so that it can store more things.”

  Monica bit down the urge to spill her brother’s affinity and decided to praise the bag instead.

  “It’s so beautiful! It’s basically a work of art!” Monica got up, and Vigil being the quick-thinker, was already on his feet. “Thanks Ban!” The girl hugged the tailor.

  The tailor’s sixth sense screamed at her that the girl was important, as such, Ban pulled Monica into a tighter hug.

  “You’re a smart girl, Nichole. I hope you grasp your skills soon! And don’t skip out on physical training either!”