Wizarding Era

Whispering Garden

While the fiends were momentarily stunned by the flames in his hand, Grimm quickly stepped out from under a murderous tree and crouched to dig through the roots of one, forcing open the thick bark with his magic. Beneath the tangled roots of the murderous trees and the human bones scattered about, there grew thumb-sized nodules of blocky root, white, red, and purple.

Grimm carefully picked three of the white nodules, stuffing them into his pouch before swiftly retreating back onto the path. He couldn't bear the thought of stepping even a foot outside the safety of this trail. If he had to, he wouldn't hesitate to risk it, but only as a last resort.

The materials he needed to harvest today were essential for his patrol duties, but he couldn’t help feeling a strong sense of reluctance at the thought.

There was no avoiding it, however. This was part of his duty. In normal times, he would have had to enter and exit the area multiple times to search for mature stems, but today, thanks to his elemental vision, he was able to directly locate a murderous tree bearing mature nodules.

Normally, such a task required frequent entry and exits into the area, increasing his chances of encountering danger. But today, his magical abilities allowed him to pinpoint a mature murderous tree without much effort.

Following the narrow path for another two hundred meters or so, Grimm reached the living area of the strangler vines. A sinister tree loomed across the path, its hanging tendrils looking like writhing branches ready to attack.

Grimm pulled out his witchcraft talisman from his neck, murmured an incantation, and released a wave of mystical energy. The talisman, shaped like a black cross, began to radiate invisible power, quickly enveloping the surrounding area.

An urgent alert buzzed in his mind, indicating abnormal fluctuations in the magical field.

Grimm raised his talisman high and boldly approached the tree. As he neared, the tendrils recoiled and shrank back away, carving out a barren path.

With each step toward the tree, the tendrills continued to retreat away, ultimately revealing a desolate road.

Having completed his inspection of the murderous trees and their parasitic vines, Grimm now faced the infant demons' lair. Covered in fear and trepidation, this place always filled him with an inexplicable sense of dread.

Beyond the ghostly tree lay a ghastly garden known as the Whispering Garden, populated by various abandoned plots overrun by gray magic and countless demonic creatures. It was a paradise for infant demons and other beings obsessed with satisfying their hunger, where any adventurer who fell under their enchantment would meet their doom, becoming nourishment for the peculiar plants that favored dead souls.

Groups of mushroom folk clustered along the path, singing cheerfully while shaking hands, inviting Grimm to join them. They resembled little humans with legs, their caps patterned like human faces, making them appear even more terrifying. Despite their small statures and lack of offensive power, these mushroom folk were fierce predators when it came together in large numbers. Their souls were as dark as night, refusing to let go even the faintest hint of desire.

"Warning! Warning!" The talisman around Grimm's neck issued repeated alerts, signaling the presence of a powerful disturbance affecting his magical field. The signal weakened to static, then ceased altogether.

Grimm backed away slightly until the cold sensation on his body started to dissipate. These mushroom folk, though adorable and seemingly harmless, were deadly predators. Even their souls were voracious, never willing to spare their prey's spirits.

For a formal witch, simple hallucinogenic powers might make decent alchemical ingredients. However, for apprentices like Grimm, who had to patrol this dangerous region regularly, venturing into a mushroom folk's garden could spell death.

If Grimm succumbed to their illusionary domain and was lured into the garden, they wouldn't hesitate to feast on him—all the while leaving him blissfully unaware within some fantastical dreamscape. For formal witches, this might be useful material, but for Grimm like apprentices, it meant facing potential fatal danger.

Facing these grinning mushroom folk, Grimm a pebble-sized chunk of rock from his pouch, threw it into their dense ranks among them. A flash of blue light streaked across, followed instantly knocking down five of them without a sound. The others scattered into the distant bushes, and trees behind trees.

Grimm quickly moved to collect the five unconscious mushroom folk, tucking them safely into his pouch. He then retrieved the stone and hurried back to the gravel path.

These mushroom folk had been too frightened to show themselves again after their initial scare. Yet countless pairs of eyes watched him constantly, accompanied by chilling whispers and incessant muttering. Grimm felt a chill run down his spine every step of the way.

These mushroom folk were indeed mandatory harvest materials for every patrol, and Grimm knew he had no choice but to complete this task swiftly and leave this perilous area.

Truth be told, this garden of mushroom folk was also the most hazardous zone for witch apprentices. Therefore, after collecting his materials, Grimm didn’t dare linger but quickly moved along the winding path toward the infant demons' lair.

After passing through the mushroom folk's cultivation area and moving forward, Grimm soon encountered the infant demons' territory. These infant demons were grotesque little humanoids, dried up like withered babies, dragging odd appendages behind them. They moved rapidly on all fours with eerie screeching voices. What made them truly frightening wasn’t that they were infant demons but their innate ability of "speech curses." Part of what they spoke would come true under the influence of strong will, creating boundless wishes that could easily entrap anyone.

When dozens of infant demons gathered to hurl curses at a single target, they could layer upon layer of malicious intent until even a great earth bear would be reduced to mush, allowing them for s*******r. Walking amongst such madness required not just a strong heart and will but a superhuman determination to avoid being stripped of soul and spirit, becoming one of the lost souls wandering in the Whispering Garden.

Every species of demonic beings had its territory, and they seldom crossed boundaries without cause, which could lead to conflict between monster and monster. As Grimm walked briskly through the wasteland garden, surrounded by eerie whispers and strange noises, he dared not pause but tightly clutched his talisman, shaking his head as he pressed forward.

Finally, before the shrill screams could fill his ears, Grimm managed to escape into another path. As a routine patrol task for apprentices as an apprentice, Grimm’s job was not only to monitor but also to periodically gather some witchcraft materials and herbs. And this area he was patrolling still fell within the inner circle of the swamp—a place very few outsiders could reach.

Most adventurers rarely made it this far inside due to the high danger posed by the cultivated monsters. Even witch apprentices wearing protective talismans couldn’t guarantee their safety, often relying on luck more than anything else to survive. Ordinarily, even attempting to sneak into these depths would be tantamount to gambling with life itself.

However, according to Grimm, sometimes the Witches' Tower would intentionally relax some restrictions to lure ordinary people deeper into the marshlands. During those times, they actively guided some into the heart of the swamp where these inner-circle monsters could feast.

As a patrol apprentice, Grim's mission was straightforward: every seven days check the nearby movements of towering monsters and appropriately gather some witchcraft materials and herbs. Starting from the front gate of proceeding counterclockwise through most of the monster habitats before looping back to complete their patrol cycle—this constituted their primary duty.

Each patrol mission brought four points of knowledge and a few coins. Compared to other tasks within the tower, these rewards were already generously generous. Yet numerous hopeful apprentices still hesitated to take on these patrols due to the extreme danger involved. Avoiding these tasks seemed wisest; facing them head-on invited disaster.

This current patrol required Grimm to traverse reverse clockwise through murderous tree forests, strangler vine patches, and infant demon territories—a path no less dangerous than his colleague Tony's. The other witch apprentice Tony followed a clockwise route, which included areas inhabited by old hags, giant crocodiles, and other monstrous beings not to be trifled with with.

Collecting eggs from crocodiles and cutting wormwood from strangler vines proved particularly perilous tasks. Venturing deeper into their nests heightened the risks significantly. Thus facing such challenges demanded utmost caution—his own Incinerate Hand proved too potent for delicate tasks against weaker foes. Hence he had no choice but to find alternative methods.

Fortunately Tony had previously acquired a high-powered shock stone from Rex at a steep price—one designed specifically for dealing with feeble life forms like strangler vines. Its discharged electrical energy sufficed to stun weaker targets like infant demons effectively. Therefore when gathering eggs or cutting wormwood Tony avoided using Incinerate Hand opting instead for safer alternatives whenever possible.

Despite their apparent simplicity these shock stones held significant value as tools for witchcraft apprentices. For formal witches simple hallucinogenic effects made them decent alchemical ingredients; whereas for patrolling apprentices like Tony they presented potential lethal dangers.

Facing these grinning mushroom folk required immense courage; should Tony lose himself within their illusionary domain and stumble into their garden they would waste no time feasting upon him—all while he remained blissfully unaware within some marvelous dreamscape. For formal witches this might serve as valuable material but for patrolling apprentices like Tony it meant risking life and limb.

Hence facing these smiling mushroom folk Tony chose to grin back producing a pebble-sized chunk of rock from his pocket and hurling it into their midst. A blue flash seared across instantly striking down five individuals without a sound; those untouched by lightning bolt scattered into distant bushes.

Tony swiftly moved to retrieve the five fallen mushroom folk tucking them securely into his pouch before retrieving his stone and hastening back onto the gravel path.

These mushroom folk showed no further sign of themselves after initial fright scattering instead into distant bushes accompanied by countless pairs of eyes watching his every move coupled by chilling whispers and incessant muttering that sent shivers down Tony's spine every step of way.