“That’s a bit too many, right? We don’t know how they attack either.”

‘You must trust Tréjörð to stop them.’

“I’d like to. But look at them, they never rolled like that. It’s like an avalanche.”

“Dozens of enemies huddled together have been enticed by Wraps of sorrow and despair’s peculiar spell. Every group containing four to eight, their numbers quickly rising above the tens to the hundreds.”

“How is he going to stop them? Are they gaining momentum? This is insane.”

‘Ji. My friend. My roots are as sturdy as Berikin bark, as agile as Derl wood and as united as my whole clan.’

“That’s fine. But I’m staying back and attacking from here.”

“Cowering behind his allies our hero begins rousing the already chaotic ambient mana. Despite his innate abilities, it proves difficult.”

“Something feels off.”

“The area native to these being s has been saturated with their alignment, giving them more control. Moreso now with their great numbers. But in spite of this, our hero manages to assert some semblance of domain.”

“It’s not as much mana as before. I might need to be a bit more conservative with my mana reserves.”

‘When I unleash my wraps, you attack.’

“Alright.”

‘And never stop.

‘Tréjörð. You must stand your ground, even if every root is shattered, broken and burned.’

‘It is my way to stand my ground.’

“What heroic display, a strange contrast to our shameless protagonist.”

“It's just a quest for stone. I’m not going to suicide for. Rocks. Rocks out of all things.”

“It would appear our hero takes these quests lightly. Yet has never considered what would happen should he fail. Would he still retain the system’s will? Will he continue being the scion of the world?”

“I mean. I don’t know. We’re about to fight. Can you chill for a moment?”

“Our determined friends, Tréjörð and Wraps of sorrow and despair. Their lives may indeed be on the line. Some clans are on the brink of destruction. From either disastrous natural events, cunning villains or treacherous allies.”

“Okay! Okay! I get it! I’ll take it a little more seriously.”

‘Ji. They will soon be in range!’

“The thunderous noises nearly drown out her voice. Just above hundreds rolling rocks cascade up and down the hills. Yet despite their violent movements, no dust is thrown into the air. Even the ground is left untainted, seeming as pristine as before.”

“Did the ground just wriggle?”

‘Get ready Tréjörð!’

‘I am in position!’

“The bellow of a tree echoes out briefly before being overwhelmed by the rumbling rockslide.”

‘Now!’

“Thousands of roots shoot from the ground and begin entangling each other. A moment passes and a wide lustrous net has formed.

The rocks perhaps aware of the obstacle yet continue their rampage. They may also be unable to halt their momentum.”

“How is that going to stop them?”

“Our hero’s quiet words are left unheard. The rocks begin colliding with Trjéjörðs barrier. Yet despite their size and vigorous charge.

They fall short of breaking through, the barrier stretches backwards, uprooted by the heavy force.”

“...”

“The monstrous network of roots unearthed, yet this seems to been accounted for. The roots had already been entangled underground, strengthening them.

Copious amount of soil is lifted with the roots. Creating a hill that joins in to cushion the blow.”

“It’s like a the wave, it’s like the land is liquid.”

‘Get ready Ji!’

“Once the first line of offence slows down the second volley rams into their allies. Causing immense chaos. Their forces ground to halt, quarter of them near death, a half gravely wounded.”

‘Tréjörð!’’

“On her command a bridge of roots reach the top of the hill.”

‘Go Ji! Kill!’

“Tréjörð stands in place while the other two rush to the top of the newly formed hill. The littles missus waves her hands around. Her wrappings grow even larger, furthering its absurd size.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

‘Just attack!’

“A sphere after sphere begins hailing down upon the clumped up rock creatures. Their wails incoherent as their already primitive speech is muffled by their impairments.

Every sphere seems to differ in quality. Some so unstable that they come apart mid air.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t control it properly.”

“Despite his struggles our hero continuous to cast his concentrated balls at the enemy. Repeatedly hitting the same targets, dead or otherwise.”

“It’s impossible to see which ones are still alive. It’s just one giant gray mess.”

‘They’re starting to climb up.’

“Having regained their balance and the rock-slide ceased, they begin to climb over the corpses of their allies. Burying them in their stampede.

Tréjörð’s roots sprout, determined to entangle anything they can. Yet it falls short. Tens of of continue their rampage.”

“What do we do? I can’t take this many out.”

‘We’ll hold as many as we can back. You focus on the ones that get through!’

“Roger that!”

“The crazed mana is in continuous limbo. It is naturally attracted to the native beings, yet is forcefully dragged towards our hero. Basking him in unorderly energy, causing his manipulation to plummet.”

“It’s impossible to stabilize it!”

“The nature of a mana-fiend is allowing what should be considered impossible.

However, control. Control is something learned and impossible to convey with words.

It also the extraordinary and erratic nature of this energy that is allowing such destruction. Even as the spheres fall apart their power lesser but remains deadly.”

“It’s like a shotgun. It looks like it is effective enough. Better to work with it rather than against it.”

“A few steps away from our hero, a near naked, Wraps of sorrow and despair is shouting. Her wraps ingeniously dancing among the enemy, distracting, binding and even causing dissension.”

‘Ji! For how long can you go!?’

“What!? I can’t hear you!”

‘How long can you go!?’

“I’m using a lot of internal mana. Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“Due to our hero’s wasteful methods, his current mana use is astronomical. The usually synergy with ambient mana in shambles, forcing him to use his reserves.”

‘Tréjörð! Can you hear me!?’

“After repeated attempts it becomes clear that communication methods are lacking. It may even look like the tree-hybrid has lost its way. Or in the process of doing so. He may go the way of his predecessors.”

“What the hell. Is he going to turn into a tree!?”

‘Maybe.’

“Maybe!? Don’t we have to stop him?”

‘We’ll all die if we don’t stop them.’

“It may seem that the fighting is still at its pinnacle but eighty percent of the enemies have been rendered immobile or dead.

The rest are gravely injured. It is their wails and last movements that make them appear active.”

“Really?”

“Our hero’s reckless and violent attacks wreaked havoc. Wraps of sorrow and despair conniving ways caused dissension that spread like locust.

The lesser intelligent rock lifeforms were easily fooled. And Tréjörð’s bindings caused many to be trampled.”

“Now that you mention it. They aren’t really moving towards us anymore.”

‘What did you say? Speak louder!’

“The dying creatures cacophony still hinders the team’s communication.”

“I said they aren’t moving! Not moving!”

‘Great! I’ll go soothe Tréjörð!’

“Was he really going to turn into a tree?”

‘What!?’

“Nothing! Just go!”

“The field of battle is under control, but the cries of the wounded still reverbs throughout the area. The act of slaughtering the still living enemies falls on our hero.

With a rare expression, a picture of the callousness. Atmosphere turns desolate as the last of the sounds die out. The grim feeling pervades the aftermath of the fight.”

| Ji Aleksy. Elementalist. Mana fiend: Level Three-hundred-eighty-one |

“Not bad. At least seventy levels.”

|Quest log|

|Optional: The reformed city|

“The ancient city of Heo has been reformed, but by who and how?”

Travel to the free city Heo and find out how the city was rebuilt.

Location: Portal room.

Difficulty: Medium

Reward: Tier appropriate item.

|Optional: Back to the grind|

“The prophet said to the wanderer ‘Swim against the water or be swallowed by the tide.’ The wanderer took this advice and escaped drowning.”

Travel to the appropriate wildlands and cull the malignant fiends scouring the land.

Location: Portal room.

Difficulty: Medium.

Reward: Tier appropriate weapon.

|Optional: Camp Sharpstone needs|

“Help those about to fall, for when you descend, they will catch you”

Gather seven-hundred tons of |Living rock|: 0.01/700

Gather ten |Solidified fire|: 0/10

Gather two thousand tons of |Vitalizing soil|: 0/2000

Gather sixty thousand gallons of |Stale water|: 0/6000

Location: Mer-erk mer-Erk wildlands, Camp Sharpstone

Difficulty: Medium.

Reward: Temporary buff last four hours after leaving camp.

Reward: Beginner crafting materials of your choosing.

|Special – Optional: Dying Deliverance, stones to sharpstone|

“When the restless rest. The still, from the ground break.”

Set a up a revival shrine at Camp Sharpstone.

Requires the hearts of one hundred different species: 23/100

Two hundred kilograms of |Living stone|: 1/200

Location: Mer-erk mer-Erk wildlands, Camp Sharpstone

Difficulty: Hard.

Reward: In case of fatality, revive at Camp Sharpstone. Two additional |Life offerings|

Reward: Title that provides improved |Camp Sharpstone buff|.

|Quest pack|

“Carry our burdens.”

Capable of containing a small amount of quest related items.

“Do I just throw their whole bodies in or what?”

‘What are you doing?’

“Collecting quest materials. Or trying to.”

‘If you can’t harvest their bodies you will have to wait for them to dematerialize.’

“Where is Tréjörð? By the way.”

‘He is resting. It takes time to return to his previous form.’

“How do we split up the loot?”

‘Evenly.’

“Oh.”

|Living rock|

“What echoes are lives lost, petrification.”

Crafting material

Do not consume

“I need a lot of these.”

‘I need a five hundred tons and Tréjörð needs six hundred.’

“How much is there? Do you have a scale.”

‘No.’

“Tired of Ji’s absurdity, Wraps of sorrow and despair begins collecting the rocks into her quest bag.”

|Living stone|

“The beating of this dying soul still continues even in death.”

Crafting material

Do not consume

“Why would I eat this?

Do you guys need these living stones as well?”

‘I don’t, ask Tréjörð.’

“He’s still not done resting?”

‘He should be fine by now. You shouldn’t worry about that tree, they are tenacious if anything.’

“Alright. Tell me when you’re finished looting I’m going to go practice my control.”

“Our hero retreats to Tréjörð, who has build a rather sizeable dwelling in the shape of a swelled out tree.”

“Nice place.”

‘Thank you. It is a technique my father taught me. It is a home away from home.’

“I want to check. Did you need living stone for your quest?”

‘No. I require living rocks, solidified fire, Vitalizing soil and stale water.’

“Looks like we have the same mission. For the most part.”

‘I also have a need for and vitalizing water and stale soil. Wraps of sorrow and despair has told me we would gather these together.’

“Alright. I guess we just wait for her to gather everything up. I’m going to go rest for a bit and practice my control.

I feel like I might break through and a another sphere to the formation.”

“It is not our hero’s trust that allows him to walk away from the remains of the battle. At his disposal is a log that stores every item that dropped.”

“They only drop living rocks and a tiny bit of living stone. But this part of the mission shouldn’t give us any problems.”

“With closed eyes our hero summons sixteen spheres that begin their erratic flight. While they might seem at random, there is certain order. And it is in this disorder that our hero will find his control improve.”