Chapter 37: Ash Flower ① – The Sound of a Flute

I returned home, locked the door, and went to my room.

Carefully, I took the egg out of my pouch.

It wasn’t particularly heavy, but I could feel the weight of something inside.

The contents… I had a bad feeling. I cautiously opened the container.

The container was filled with liquid.

No mistake about it. A wave of shock and disbelief coursed through me.

This clear yet viscous, faintly glowing liquid…

It was elixir.

“……Hah…”

It wasn’t just an egg-shaped container.

I wished it had been nothing more than that.

At the same time, I felt relief. I was glad I noticed it before it fell into the hands of the witch, Arifa, or anyone else.

“Phew… Alright.”

For now, I couldn’t bring myself to waste the liquid, so I poured it into the crescent moon vessel.

The egg-shaped container was empty once again.

Now for some testing. I prepared an hourglass.

In this world, there is a concept of time,

but it’s not commonly used.

Even so, there are various tools for measuring time—

fire clocks, sand clocks, water clocks, and sundials.

This hourglass takes about 10 minutes for all the sand to fall.

It’s not precise, but close enough for my needs.

I wanted to find out how long it would take for the elixir to refill.

Either way, I already knew it would refill.

The question was whether this was truly as threatening as it seemed,

and that depended on how quickly it refilled.

It had been quite a while since I first acquired and used it.

If it only refilled over an extended period, that would be fine.

But what if it refilled much faster?

I didn’t want to think about that possibility.

For now, I fixed the egg-shaped container securely within a wooden frame and watched it intently.

“…Ah.”

From nowhere, droplets began to form along the inner surface of the egg.

They gathered and trickled down to pool at the bottom.

It was faster than I expected.

By the time the sand in the hourglass had completely fallen, the container was full again.

So, about 10 minutes.

“…It refills in just 10 minutes…”

This was incredible. I clutched my head.

It was far too fast.

“Wait a minute. Maybe there’s a limit to how many times it can refill.”

Holding onto that hope, I continued testing.

10 hours later.

“…It refilled again…”

Over 10 hours, that was 60 refills.

I took breaks in between, but I tested it that many times.

“…Legendary, huh…”

There was no sign of it stopping.

Testing beyond this—like hoping it might stop at 100 refills—would be endless.

This was most likely infinite. That’s the impression I got.

This was bad. I threw myself onto the bed in frustration.

Ugh, what in the world is this?

A legendary elixir container that refills in 10 minutes is an obvious problem.

It’s definitely a national treasure, not something a private individual should possess.

But how could I get rid of it?

One terrible and worst-case scenario after another ran through my mind.

The worst of all was war. That seemed entirely possible.

“…Alright!”

For now, I decided to put the matter of the elixir and its container on hold.

Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. I switched my focus to the next issue at hand.

“…Being a luggage Carrier, huh.”

And doing odd jobs. That wasn’t a problem.

What concerned me was what kind of party they were and what kind of people they would be.

“…I hope they’re good people.”

Explorers are rarely any good.

The decent ones are just a handful—that’s been my experience.

But there’s no point in complaining.

I tucked the elixir egg deep into my pouch.

The next day.

I immediately went to the forest, herbology book in hand, to search for potion ingredients.

Not the forest where the witch lived, though.

This was the opposite direction, a forest I had never visited before.

Since I was here, I figured I might as well explore the area a bit.

There are no dungeons near this forest.

So, it’s unlikely that explorers would venture into it.

Which means there should be herbs here.

With that optimistic thought, I began my exploration.

“…Hmm?”

I compared the wild plants growing in front of me to the illustrations in the book.

It was a grass with a red tip.

The book described it as well—Red Tail Grass. Easy enough to identify.

But next to it, there was a similar-looking grass with red tips on both ends.

Its shape was also similar. Could this be another type of Red Tail Grass?

“…It’s not in the book.”

It wasn’t listed in the herbology book.

Should I leave it alone, then?

“It’s like mushrooms.”

I recalled a time in my previous life when I went mushroom hunting.

Most of the mushrooms I collected turned out to be poisonous.

I was shocked by how many toxic varieties there were.

Incidentally, I occasionally collect mushrooms in this world too.

I don’t know which mushrooms are poisonous or edible.

But I do have the relic [Danger Detection].

With it, I can determine if a mushroom is harmful.

However, it doesn’t tell me whether it’s edible.

Some were harmless but tasted awful.

I applied the same logic to these herbs.

Both types of grass glowed white under the relic’s judgment, meaning they were harmless.

But that doesn’t confirm that they’re both Red Tail Grass.

Even with the relic [Fortune’s Wheel], the result was the same.

My relics can’t distinguish between different herbs.

“Still…”

This herbology book is impressive.

It’s not as complete as the resources in my previous life, but still remarkable.

The detailed sketches are well done.

Not all, but some of the more distinct features are depicted in color.

The accompanying explanatory notes are also incredibly helpful.

I don’t know if they used movable type printing or something else, but the writing is beautiful.

I wonder about the technology behind it.

Does this world have something like movable type printing?

It’s hard to say. This world has artifacts, legacies, and relics far more advanced than anything like that.

Yet, they often rely on those to explain away things.

For something as simple as printing, I have a general idea of how it might work.

But I’m not particularly proactive, so I don’t know if my knowledge would be useful here.

With those thoughts in mind, I continued collecting herbs while flipping through the book.

I steadily gathered herbs and made my way deeper into the forest.

“—♪～♪♪♪—♪♪”

Suddenly, the sound of a flute echoed through the air.

It was a strange melody—cheerful yet somehow dark, almost dissonant.

“Is someone there?”

Of course, someone must be there; otherwise, I wouldn’t hear it.

Still, the words slipped out of my mouth.

I immediately became cautious.

It could be a monster.

But a monster that plays a flute…?

Does such a thing exist? Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin? But is that even a thing in this world?

“―――~♪~~♪~♪♪”  

Was it just my imagination?  

The flute’s melody seemed to be drawing closer.  

“This… feels bad.”  

I turned to head back, but I froze in place.  

Fog.  

Thick fog had suddenly rolled in without warning.  

Something was off.  

I quickly activated my relic, [Danger Detection], at full power—  

Nothing.  

Everything was pitch black. I couldn’t see anything. Pure darkness.  

“―――~♪”  

This was bad.  

I deactivated [Danger Detection].

As the blackened view cleared instantly, I was left speechless.  

The sight before me was bizarre.  

Amid the dense fog, trees and gravestones stretched endlessly before me.  

Countless graves, varying in size and crumbling with age, filled the forest.  

“What is this…?”  

None of this had been here just moments ago.  

Where… am I? The flute…!  

The realization struck me like lightning.  

It was that forest.  

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