Pathfinder

Chapter Five

"What does it mean to buy dimensions?"

"You really don't know anything, do you? In simple terms, it means you gain access to another dimension. Right now, you can only travel between here and your base camp, but if you buy another dimension, you can go there too. It's incredibly expensive, though. You can also give up on this dimension and switch to another one, which is a bit cheaper. I've been alive for nearly three hundred years, but I've never seen anyone gather enough paths to buy another dimension."

Garam was taken aback by the mention of 300 years. She had not been listening very attentively since she heard that filling up the tattoo would allow her to return home, so her reaction was a bit delayed. Almost unconsciously, Garam pointed at Mordred and stammered.

"Th-th-three hundred?"

Mordred looked a bit displeased as he glanced at Garam's pointed finger, but he eventually nodded.

"You really have quite an impolite finger."

Garam felt a strange sense of déjà vu. She felt like she had heard that phrase somewhere before. Whether it was true or not, she quickly retracted her finger. Mordred chuckled in response, watching Garam's actions with his squinted eyes.

"Why? Is it weird that I don't look like an old man even though I'm three hundred?"

"Y-yes..."

"...Well, you are a very honest girl."

With the knowledge that she could return home without much effort, Garam seemed to have regained some composure. The anxiety and nervousness that had gripped her earlier must have disappeared. Mordred was surprised by this transformation.

"Pathfinders don't have a lifespan anyway. They gather paths and change their bodies."

"Can't I just go back home?"

"No, you'll definitely want to find paths. It's the instinct and destiny of all pathfinders."

Mordred looked a bit solemn as he said this. The atmosphere became heavier, and Garam asked another question.

"But why are we pathfinders? Did we receive some kind of divine selection?"

"I don't really know. One thing is certain, though. It's because our souls have different origins. I learned about pathfinders and their souls when I bought the knowledge about that with some paths."

"So we can buy things like that too."

"I told you, you can buy anything. You can buy whatever you have in mind. Even if it's not on the list, if you wish for it, it will be priced and become available. And we have no choice but to move to obtain it."

Mordred, with his oddly beautiful emerald eyes, gazed at Garam and spoke with conviction once more.

"You'll become like me, too."

After saying that, Mordred remained silent for a long time.

As evening approached, they looked for some dry grass and firewood to make a fire. At this time, Mordred approached Garam and offered to help her find paths if she ever considered it. However, Garam firmly shook her head. She had a family and a life back home. The life of a pathfinder that Mordred had described to her was undoubtedly intriguing, but as attractive as it sounded, there must be drawbacks that he hadn't mentioned. Upon her rejection, Mordred didn't push the matter any further.

"Well, Garam, you said you’re on your way to find your father, right?"

"Yes."

Garam was struggling to eat a piece of dry bread that Jerome had handed her which felt as hard as a brick. Despite her efforts to bite into it, the bread remained intact. Suddenly, Garam remembered the fruit of the meat tree she had eaten with Trigger and longed for it.

"Oh, you poor thing! I have a daughter just like you. I'm sure she misses me a lot, too."

"Certainly."

Garam removed the bread from between her teeth and wore a melancholic expression. Mordred silently chuckled as he watched her. Garam felt his amusement and gave him an annoyed look before going back to attempting to eat the tough bread. After all, she would only have to endure one more day there. The next day, at midnight, she would be able to open the gate to return home.

Garam checked how much the tattoo had filled up. She had been glancing at her hand whenever she had the chance. The growing pattern provided some solace. Once she returned home, she would have a warm meal with some spam and other side dishes. The hard bread that she was eating just didn't compare.

"By the way, where is your daughter, Mr. Jerome?"

Garam eventually gave up on eating the bread. She observed Jerome with curious eyes as he effortlessly tore into the tough bread as if his teeth were made of iron. After a while, Jerome burst into laughter at Garam's question. She thought he was a very good-natured man.

"Ah, I'm no nobleman. Just call me Jerome, or Jerry. Haha. Am I being too rude? I’m just kidding."

"Just Jerome it is, then."

"That's right. My daughter is back in our hometown, Belbaria. This wine is a specialty of Belbaria, and we make it at home every year. We sell this homemade wine in the city and make a living from it. My daughter must be waiting for me to bring her a gift. I really miss her."

After finishing his sentence, Jerome bit into the bread again with a somewhat somber expression. Upon his words, Garam saw the image of her own father in Jerome. When she returned home, she would hug her dad tightly and apologize to her mom.

It was clear that her father had come home early precisely because it was her birthday. Even though her father worked late every day, he would always come home early on Garam's birthday, no matter what complaints he might face from his boss.

Garam wanted to return home quickly. It had only been one day since she had left, but she couldn't bear the longing for her family. She couldn't believe that she was now a pathfinder, about to embark on a journey to find paths. More precisely, she didn't want to believe it.

"So, your father is in Verok, isn't he?"

Jerome, who had calmed down a bit, asked the question. He seemed to have been somewhat embarrassed in front of the young lady, and his cheeks had reddened slightly.

"Yes."

"Well, what does he do?"

"I don't really know. It's been such a long time since I've seen him..."

"I see. Most Asians work in trade as far as I know. Erbiermann, run by the family of Duke Kaltsburg, is probably one of the largest merchants in the world."

"And where is that located?"

"Obviously, it's in the Kaltsburg region. I haven't been to Kaltsburg myself yet, but I've heard it's a breathtakingly beautiful place because it's right on the harbor. They say all the houses there are built with white sand, so it's very picturesque."

"What about Verok?"

Jerome was taken aback by her question. He had been lost in his thoughts, imagining the Kaltsburg region with his eyes closed. When Garam asked about Verok, he felt like he had been jabbed in the side.

"Verok? Well, there are big decent merchants there too, of course.”

Jerome hastily tried to cover up any doubts Garam might have about the city. Garam intentionally looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Mordred couldn't help but laugh at this awkward situation.

Garam didn't want to make things difficult for the kind man, but she had to stay in that place for at least another day, so she had to avoid any situations of suspicion. It was better to eliminate any doubts in advance.

"Even though I don't know it very well, I heard that the Verok region also had good merchants, haha. Are you done with the bread? Yikes, why did you eat so little?"

Seeing that Garam had hardly eaten her bread, Jerome looked at her with a sympathetic expression. It was clear that her worries about her father were affecting her appetite. In times like that, it was crucial to eat well to sustain one's strength.

"I'm sorry. I know this is precious food, but I don't have much of an appetite today."

"No, it's okay. It'll be easier to swallow if you moisten it with water. Here, I have a water bottle."

In such a place as this, water was more valuable than food. Unaware of that, Garam simply said thanks and accepted the bottle, drinking some water to wash down the bread. As Jerome suggested, the bread softened in her mouth after absorbing the water, making it easier to eat. Although it lacked flavor compared to fresh bread, Garam stuffed it into her mouth to fill her stomach.

"Wow, you seem to be hungry. Help yourself."

Jerome watched Garam eat with a warm smile. Mordred gave her a brief glance and then lay down on a blanket he had spread on the ground. On the other hand, Garam had nothing more than the clothes on her back because she had left home without much preparation, so she borrowed a cloth from Jerome's wagon and lay down.

Then, the three of them fell asleep under the sky filled with stars, each dreaming their own dreams.

* * *

The next morning, the group set out early on the road. While Jerome was busy preparing the carriage and grooming the horses, Garam quickly climbed up on the back side of the cart. Jerome chuckled as he watched Garam do this, but Mordred took turns looking at both of them with expressionless face before settling in the seat next to Jerome.

Seeing Mordred's reaction, Jerome felt sorry for yet another young lady getting hurt, but Garam seemed unfazed. In reality, Garam was in a state of absolute excitement that no one could take away, knowing that she would return home at midnight.

Jerome looked at Garam with a somewhat compassionate gaze as he tried to interpret her starry eyes. Mordred had broken the heart of another cute girl, he thought.

"Alright, Garam. Take this."

Garam, still a bit drowsy, accepted what Jerome had offered. It was the hard, almost tooth-breaking bread they had eaten yesterday. Upon receiving it, Garam's expression stiffened, but Jerome grabbed her hand and spoke earnestly.

"Don't be upset. There are many other men in this world besides him."

Garam, realizing the meaning of those words a bit late, was about to protest but decided against it. After all, she would return home that night, disappearing into a midsummer night's dream.

Jerome handed the water bottle to Garam and then began to drive the carriage. The carriage, carrying the three of them, moved slowly but steadily along the road.

'Has Trigger returned to the Beast field?'

If she indeed returned to the world, that large tiger would surely leave a lasting memory. The first encounter with him was no mere joke. A tiger that eats grilled fruit from the meat tree. At that point, it wouldn't be that surprising to see him talking, not to mention the fire lizard...

As Garam smiled to herself, lost in her thoughts, the carriage suddenly came to a stop. Since they halted abruptly, Garam bumped her head quite hard against the wine barrel next to her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she rubbed the back of her head. It was painful enough to make her feel like crying. When she peered out from behind the barrel with her head still throbbing, Mordred warned her in a low voice.

"Enemies. Duck down."

Before she could grasp the meaning of his words, an arrow flew straight over her head, deeply embedding itself into the wine barrel behind her. Despite the short, thick grass providing limited cover, the enemies were adept at concealing themselves and couldn't be seen anywhere. The sharp sound of the arrow striking the barrel made Garam's complexion turn pale. If she were just a little bit slower, the arrow would have pierced her forehead.

Seeing Garam in this state, Mordred snapped his finger and created blue flames, which Garam had seen before. Then, he divided the empty sky horizontally with his finger. Mordred's blue flames followed the trajectory he drew in the air, igniting the surroundings with a crackling roar. Soon, they spread out in a fan-shaped pattern from the center point. The heat was so intense that even the stones on the ground sizzled and turned red-hot.

Garam had barely registered what was happening when the enemies, who had hidden their presence so well in the grass, were all reduced to ashes in an instant. There was nothing that could maintain its shape in such scorching heat.

While Garam and Jerome were stunned, not even realizing that their jaws were dropped, the magical flames conjured by Mordred disappeared.

"Well, you're an incredible wizard!"

Jerome said after the event, regaining his composure. It was impossible for a human to perform such a powerful spell without preparation, but Jerome didn't know that because he was ignorant about magical spells. He was just taken aback by the tremendous power of Mordred's spell.

Mordred, with an indifferent expression, listened to Jerome's words and then cast a proud glance at Garam, clearly implying something, but Garam avoided his gaze. What he did was a bit cool, but going back home was a lot more important to her. Garam's shoulders trembled as she recalled the arrow that had just passed over her head a moment ago.

"The enemies are all gone now. Let's depart."

Mordred sat down on the seat. Jerome, who had been absentmindedly gazing at the burnt field, snapped out of it at Mordred's words and sat down next to him. It was as if he had become Mordred's servant.

Jerome, who was amazed by Mordred's incredible magic, worried intermittently about the status of the wine barrel pierced by arrows, but he spoke less and less. It was even more noticeable because no one responded to him.

In the serious atmosphere, the carriage continued along the path through the wilderness.

In truth, Jerome had not believed Mordred's claim that he was a wizard. Jerome thought that even if Mordred could indeed cast spells, they wouldn't be something so formidable. Actually, young wizards of Mordred's age could typically only levitate a rock, create a cupful of water, or barely manage to light a fire with some effort. Jerome's continued companionship with Mordred was more due to the fact that he felt Mordred seemed too helpless to travel alone. Who could have ever imagined that the young man who had been walking without any plan for over a month was truly such an extraordinary wizard?

Amidst the uncomfortable silence, the evening that Garam had been eagerly awaiting finally arrived. Garam, who was given the same tough and tasteless bread as before, hardly ate a bite and lay under the blanket, staring at the back of her hand. Eating such bread for three meals a day would undoubtedly lead to malnutrition. Garam flipped the blanket over herself and eagerly waited for the pattern to fill up. When the pattern was complete, she could return to the base camp in her original world.

Finally, when the pattern was full, it emitted a faint light like a signal and then disappeared. Instinctively, Garam stood up carefully behind the support beam to avoid waking up Jerome and Mordred. Then, she imagined her house at the base camp and hoped that the gate would open. According to Mordred, just thinking about it would open the gate. Come to think of it, even when she first arrived there, Garam had been wanting to go to a different world.

Just as Garam had hoped, a gate appeared soon after. It was a familiar one, just like the one she had seen when she arrived there.

"Are you leaving?"

Just as Garam was about to leave quietly, Mordred, without making a sound, suddenly appeared behind her.

Startled and about to scream, Garam realized that it was Mordred and quickly calmed down.

"You startled me!"

"Sorry, but I had to, otherwise Jerome would have woken up. By the way, you're leaving after all. Aren't you curious about the power of the magical spells you saw today?"

"I'll say it once more, I'm really not interested at all."

Upon Garam's firm refusal, Mordred gave up and stepped back gracefully. Even though his suggestion wasn't accepted, there was a meaningful smile on Mordred's face. Garam didn't like that. It felt very ominous and made her uncomfortable for some reason.

"Well, we can say our farewells. Goodbye, Mordred. Thanks for teaching me various things."

Instead of responding to Garam's farewell, Mordred only showed a deeper smile. It was an attitude as if there was no need for a farewell since they would inevitably meet again.

Garam shrugged as if she had no other choice and then vanished into the hole, leaving everything behind.

"Next time, make sure to wear shoes when you come!"

Mordred's voice followed her behind as she disappeared.