Grandpa Thinker reread the letter that Theanore had sent him, and he sighed. There were some sicknesses that simply had no cure, and chronic coughing was one of them.

But how does he tell that to the nymph? She wanted everyone at her grotto to be happy and healthy. Maybe if he pursuit the old legend…but it was just that, a legend.

He went to his bookcase and got out a book on herbs. The mythical Angel’s tear was inside. An illustration with a description. Something that used to grow like a weed before he came here, but was all stolen by Hades. The description read.

Because the God Eomis loved the people who lived in his continent, which he raised from the sea, he created the plant Angel’s tear. It can cure even the uncurable, but there is a price. It takes away from the patient’s lifespan. One year for each plant ingested. Warning: Angel’s tear is only ingested as a tea. If not boiled, it has another name- The Reaper’s Key.

No one knew how Hades had made all the Angel’s tears dry up and die, but he had done so upon his arrival. They had come to this world together, Hades and grandpa Thinker. One a God, the other a mortal.

But what if there were still seeds left of the plant? He needed just one. Angel’s tear was a fast-growing weed that produced numerous seeds. At least on the picture, he could see a lot of them in the flowers.

He called Iffy, his personal assistant. The worker elf came quickly carrying a plate of cookies and a steaming cup of cocoa milk. Grandpa Thinker took them from the worker elf and looked at him sternly.

“Iffy, you have worked for me from the beginning.” Said grandpa Thinker as the worker elf nodded.

“And it has been an honor, grandpa Thinker.” Said Iffy.

“Do you remember the Angel’s tear weed? The one which grew on the continent of Eomis?” Asked grandpa Thinker. Iffy nodded.

“It doesn’t grow there anymore. It withered and died, and there is none left in the world.” Said Iffy. “But…”

“Come on, speak.” Urged grandpa Thinker. Could Iffy know something he did not?

“Rumor has it that there is a grove with it still growing inside in No Man’s Land. But it is in the lands of Ogrog the Giant. The biggest, meanest and most cunning of Giants.” Said Iffy. Well, a Giant grandpa Thinker can deal with. A child needed that plant, and he loved children, despite sometimes putting them on the bad list.

“Ok, Iffy. Thank you for your help.” Said grandpa Thinker, dismissing the elf. Iffy ran out of the door, there was always something to do, and many worker elves required his input.

Grandpa Thinker ate his cookies and drank his milk, and then dressed for travel. He clicked his boots three times and found himself before a giant cave. Inside, he could hear drunken laughter.

He scrunched up his nose at that. It was still morning, and yet, the Giants were drinking. He entered the cave and saw a sign. It read.

Go inside and be eaten. Go outside and be hunted.

“Well, I know who is going on the bad list this year.” Said grandpa Thinker. Not that the inhabitants of No Man’s Land weren’t constantly on the bad list. This was a lawless place and most of the inhabitants were man-eating monsters. Some were even cannibals.

Grandpa Thinker decided silently to not give anything to the giants for the weed, if it was indeed here. He took off his invisibility coat and put it one. Then he clicked his boots once and made his steps silent.

Venturing fourth, he held no fear. He was a powerful elemental mage and no Giant could best him. Besides, he would be fine for as long as his dungeon core crystal remained unbroken. If he got to hurt here, he would just be teleported to his crystal and recover.

Soon, he heard the noise of running water, and yet the giants were nowhere to be seen. They had a good sense of smell, grandpa Thinker knew, and so he wondered if, perhaps, they haven’t smelled him coming and hidden away.

But where would a giant hide in this cave? The corners were too small, and the place was well lit by torches. Grandpa Thinker saw a waterfall, and then he did a double take.

There, behind the waterfall, was a single plant growing stubbornly from the rock. It looked like his picture of the Angel’s tear. He quickened his pace and went to the plant. He stepped on something soft and heard a groan.

Looking down to his feet, he saw nothing. He placed his foot down again. This was not the ground on which he was stepping. He ran to the plant and took it.

All the while he still stepped on something soft and heard groans. Then the drunken laughter that followed him inside the cave grew nearer and the groans become pained.

Grandpa Thinker touched the ground. There was a fabric beneath his feet, not the ground. He took it and followed it to its edge. Then he flipped it off the ground.

The floor was littered with bodies! Old and young, even children. They were all tied up and gagged. Grandpa Thinker didn’t know what to do, but he knew he couldn’t leave them here.

He cast a barrier on the entrance to the cavern and began to untie the captured humans. Then he heard a chuckle and something heavy dropped from the roof of the cavern.

“Who is releasing the food of my pantry?” Asked a booming voice in the darkness. The humans on the floor began to wiggle, and then grandpa Thinker watched with horror as an old man was crushed beneath an invisible force.

That had been the last straw. Grandpa Thinker took off his invisibility coat and prepared for a fight against whatever it was that had earned his ire.