Outside, the night was filled with the quiet rustle of leaves swaying gently in the wind.
Crickets chirped in steady rhythm. Occasionally, a distant hoot from an owl echoed through the forest, accompanied by the soft rustling of small creatures moving through underbrush.
Inside the house, the soft clinking of metal against ceramic broke the silence.
Jericho moved about the small kitchen area he had built beside his workbench. A small kettle hissed softly on the stove.
The scent of steeping herbs filled the air, lavender, mint, and a touch of dried berries.
Simple Forest Tea
Restores 10 Stamina
Boosts Calm +1
Slight increase to Focus for 15 minutes
He poured the tea into two mismatched wooden cups just as a soft creak came from behind him.
Hilda sat up slowly on the bed, her hair a little messy, her eyes half-lidded. She looked around the room with vague confusion, then at Jericho.
He turned and held out the cup.
"Tea?"
She blinked once, then nodded slowly, accepting it with both hands.
She didn't drink, just held the cup under her nose and breathed in faintly.
"Smells nice..."
Jericho sat across from her, legs crossed, sipping his own cup.
"So... random question," Jericho began calmly, "why are you in my bed?"
Hilda blinked slowly.
"...Mmm... Patrolling... foggy..."
Jericho stared.
"I see, that explain absolutely nothing."
She mumbled something unintelligible and yawned. Her head wobbled slightly as if trying to stay upright.
Jericho took another sip from his own tea. He remained perfectly calm on the outside.
Inside?
Okay... did I hit my head on a rock after that blast? Is this a dream? Did I step into a secret route that unlocks if you meet some conditions?
Across from him sat Hilda. The Hilda. The character he had hopelessly tried to reach for most of his time playing the game.
He had done everything right, almost. He got her route, went through every painful flag, only to make the wrong final choice and get locked out at the end.
And now, here she was. Sleepy-eyed, dazed, in his cabin. Like she'd always been there.
He watched her cradle the cup like it was an alien artifact.
She blinked down at it slowly.
"You hold it... like this?"
"Yeah," Jericho said gently. "And then you sip. Not chug. Sip."
Hilda nodded faintly and took a small, unsure sip.
She blinked again.
"...It tastes... very warm."
"That's usually how tea works."
She held the cup closer. Her eyes softened. She closed them.
"...Feels calm."
Tea buff active probably, Jericho thought, watching as her posture loosened a little.
Hilda exhaled softly.
"I was doing my usual patrol in the forest," she murmured, voice still drowsy. "Then I saw your place. I remembered how pathetic it looked before... So I wanted to check."
Jericho nodded slowly.
"Right. Just doing a neighborhood shame tour."
"But when I came in... it felt different. The house. It was warm. Calming. Like... like it wanted me to rest."
Jericho squinted.
... What? The housing buffs now? They actually affect other people too?
He leaned back.
In the game, Hilda used to patrol every night. Sometimes, if you fulfilled certain conditions, you could bump into her.
During her route, you learned she was always exhausted, carrying too much on her shoulders.
In the final arc, the whole point was to help her accept that she didn't have to do it alone.
She drank again, and her shoulders lowered just a bit more.
"You're different than before," she said, watching him now. Her purple eyes sharper.
Jericho met her gaze.
"People change."
"Not usually this much."
He shrugged.
She tilted her head.
"Your movement in the match. The way you dodged. You didn't even use spells."
"I don't remember much," he lied. "I was trying to survive."
She studied him in silence. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"I see, you don't want to share your methods."
Jericho raised his cup.
"Would you trust the words of a certified harasser?"
She observed him a bit longer, then closed her eyes and stood, still a bit stiff. She walked toward the door, pausing beside the entrance.
"Your roof... it still creaks near the back corner. You should reinforce the beam with dry resin," she said absently. Then, almost like talking to herself, she added, "Maybe some shelves too. Somewhere near the window... for books or plants. That would be nice. A small cabinet by the door might make it feel more balanced."
Jericho raised an eyebrow.
"Noted. Though I don't think you'll be back to enjoy the Feng Shui."
She glanced over her shoulder again.
"Maybe."
And then she was gone.
Jericho sat alone, eyes still fixed on the door that had just closed behind Hilda.
Okay... this is getting dangerous. Clarissa didn't start her villain route. Shin is underpowered. Now Hilda just shows up like it's normal?
He rubbed his face slowly, mind racing.
I came here thinking I could chill in the background, sell a few weapons, live like a countryside vendor NPC... but everything's shifting. The plot's off its tracks. If I keep staying passive, I won't be able to predict anything anymore.
He exhaled deeply.
I need to stop slacking. No more waiting in the shadows while the cast takes the spotlight. If the plot won't move like it should, then I'll have to keep an eye on every piece myself. No more guessing.
He stood up, finished the last sip of his tea, and looked around the room.
Time to stop chilling. At least until everything is back to normal.
Meanwhile, outside the door, Hilda paused.
She stood in the moonlight for a few quiet seconds.
He didn't try anything, she thought, vaguely puzzled.
No stare. No smug comment. Nothing.
She had looked tired, vulnerable even, and yet... nothing. Not even a faint chill down her spine.
Even if he was pretending, she should've sensed something. But instead, it felt like he wasn't interested at all.
Like she was just... another visitor.
Is this really the same Jericho?
Later that night, under the light of a mana lamp, Jericho got to work.
First up: potion vials.
He took a set of old glass fragments he had scavenged from broken jars and used basic fire shaping magic to melt and reform them.
Slowly, he shaped them into small vials, each about the size of his thumb.
Using tongs he crafted earlier, he spun the molten glass carefully and cooled it with water infused with calming essence to prevent cracking.
Crafting Result: Empty Vial x5
Quality: Standard
Usable for potions or other liquids
Next, the potion itself.
He pulled out a mix of herbs he'd gathered from the Evermist Forest: sunleaf, bloodroot, and whispervine.
Each had a minor healing property in the game. He mashed them together with a drop of enchanted water, stirred it in a heated cauldron, and whispered the alchemical chant he vaguely remembered from the game's lore book.
It bubbled. Turned goldish.
Healing Potion (Minor) x3
Restores 30 HP
Slightly accelerates wound clotting
Jericho grinned.
"Now to test it."
He grabbed a small dagger and held it over his arm.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
He brought the blade close, touching skin.
"Nope," he said, pulling it back with a shudder. "I'm not stabbing myself over 30 HP."
Instead, he sighed.
"Maybe... maybe I'll try getting nicked in a monster hunt tomorrow. Yes, that's brilliant. Let's do that."
With the potions lined up neatly on a shelf, he moved on.
More wooden weapons. Orders from students. A pair of enchanted tonfas with speed buffs, a staff that boosted spell stability, and another bow with slight impact bonuses.
But then came the real project.
Jericho grinned, eyes gleaming.
"Let's craft the most sacred, most broken, most meta-defining weapon in any fantasy world."
He paused dramatically.
"The gun."
He let the silence hang for a beat.
"Yes. The forbidden fruit of fantasy worlds. No mana, no runes, just pure boom. And if I pull this off... life here is about to get a lot easier."
He started by carving a long, sturdy piece of wood. Shaped it vaguely like a musket. Used enchanted coils, some metallic scraps he hammered thin as wire, and jammed a fire crystal into the barrel.
"Zero recoil, zero danger. Fully magic-powered."
He dubbed it:
Boomstick Mk. 1
Fires Magic Bullet (Fire)
Chance to Burn (10%)
Accuracy: 5%
He stood outside the cabin, aimed it at a large boulder across the field, held his breath, and fired.
Fwoosh!
The shot went flying off course and hit a tree stump twenty meters to the left, setting a bush ablaze.
"Okay," he said, eyebrows raised. "That needs work."
He turned back toward the cabin, thinking.
"If I improve the aim enchantment... and maybe use something for stability... I could eventually make a magic rifle. And one day even a laser gun. Pew pew. Endgame style."
Just then, a voice rang out behind him.
"What in the goddess' name was that?!"
He turned, startled.
There stood Kaela, the red-haired archer girl, wide-eyed.
Jericho froze. He stared at her for a long second, blinking slowly.
"Jeez," he muttered, glancing around the clearing. "This forest's turning into a woman with no moral. People just keep coming in."