Vol. 3: Chapter 38
After organizing his inventory, Kael took out the [Pass Token] and activated it.
System: Please select your destination.
A selection menu with twenty locations popped up in front of him. Kael navigated the path:
Alderfall City > Brindle Town > Village #158.
Village #158, also known as Feybrook, was the most remote starting village in the southwestern corner of the Mythrosia Empire. It was bordered by a vast, primeval forest where the monster levels varied wildly. While the immediate area around the village was home to creatures below level 15, the depths of the forest teemed with monsters ranging from level 20 to 60.
This perilous environment kept the village almost completely isolated from the outside world; its teleport nexus was the only reliable way in or out.
During the Horde invasion, Feybrook had unfortunately fallen, and its nexus had been severed. Because current players had no way to traverse the high-level forest on foot, the village was now completely cut off. While players were beginning to move back into the other starting villages recaptured from the Horde, not a single one had returned to Feybrook.
The power of Kael's [Pass Token] was that it ignored the factional restrictions of both the Human Alliance and the Thunder Horde. He arrived without a hitch, becoming the first player to set foot in Feybrook since its fall.
The scene that greeted him was familiar. The tailor's shop, the blacksmith, the narrow streets—it wasn't much different from how Starlight Village had looked in its earliest days.
In fact, all starting villages shared a standardized template: a forest to the east, a vegetable patch to the west, a quarry to the north, a mine to the south, and even bandits in the nearby hills. This design ensured all players began on a level playing field. Only later, depending on the quest paths players chose to pursue, would each village develop unique structures. Feybrook's ritual altar, for instance, had been built as the result of a player-driven quest chain.
Beyond the basic architecture, however, everything was different. The streets and shops were now occupied not by humans, but by a variety of orcs. There was a Goblin tailor, a Tauren blacksmith, and a Troll armor merchant. He even spotted some beastmen and beastkin among the populace. It seemed The WarChief had not only united the orcs but had also brought the beast tribes into his fold.
Upon seeing Kael, the shopkeepers' sales pitches grew louder, each hoping to lure him into their store.
Near the defunct teleport nexus stood an alluring Three-Tailed Fox. She had the face and figure of a human woman, but three fluffy fox tails swished gently behind her. She approached Kael with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Feybrook, adventurer. Would you like me to be your guide?"
Kael shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I'll just look around myself."
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The fox gave him a bewitching smile. "Think of Feybrook as your new home. Chat with the villagers. You might just find a way to join us for good."
Kael nodded. He knew exactly what she was implying: there were quests here to change one's race. It wasn't something that interested him, but he had to admire The WarChief's strategy.
After his first failed invasion of a human city ten years ago, The WarChief had learned from his bitter defeat. He first united the weaker beastmen tribes, then meticulously planned his next move.
This time, instead of targeting main cities, he struck at the vulnerable starting villages. More importantly, he had opened these conquered territories to all players, actively recruiting them to his side. It was this gambit that, a few months later, would lead to the conflict that truly changed the fate of the world...
Leaving the fox, Kael wandered through the village, hoping a special quest NPC might have spawned. After a full circuit, he came up empty. He wasn't too bothered; his true objective wasn't in the village itself.
It was in a hidden location, nearly a hundred miles away as the crow flies.
Kael checked the two items in his trinket slots, the [Soul Cloak] and [Faerie Wings], and weighed his options. Should he run, or should he fly?
The [Soul Cloak] was the safe bet, offering permanent invisibility. Its drawback was speed, and the fact that a sufficiently high-level boss could still detect him.
The [Faerie Wings] were incredibly fast, and he'd be safe in the air. The problem was the landing zone; the area was packed with high-level mobs, and he could easily get insta-gibbed the moment he touched down.
If only I could activate both at once, he thought. But at my current level, that's impossible.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. I could just ask Orion for a revival sigil. That way, even if I get killed on landing, I can pop back up and immediately cloak to escape. Yep... solid plan.
He eagerly opened his friends list, only to be met with disappointment. Orion was offline. In fact, Kael realized he hadn't seen him online at all since the Burning Horde event ended.
Guess I'm taking the slow route. I'll just have to be extra careful to stay clear of anything over level 50.
Having made his decision, Kael equipped the [Soul Cloak], and his form faded into thin air. Instead of heading east out of the village, he went west. He followed a river at the base of the western mountain, swallowed a [Gills Potion], and slipped into the water, swimming upstream. It was the same route he had taken on his first journey from Starlight Village to Beryl Creek.
Here, however, the landscape began to diverge from the map he knew. After about twenty minutes of swimming, aquatic creatures started appearing.
At first, they were just level 20 or 30 Freshwater Snapping Turtles, but the further he went, the higher their levels became. After forty minutes, he spotted a massive, serpentine creature coiling in the depths—a level 55 [Dreadwyrm].
Kael froze instantly, praying it hadn't noticed him. He waited for what felt like an eternity until the wyrm finally swam away. He quickly found a spot on the riverbank with fewer mobs, surfaced, and clambered onto dry land.
According to his memory of the Starlight Village area, this should have been the Verdant Pool. But there was no tranquil pool here—only a murky swamp teeming with level 40 crocodiles and a massive level 50 alpha croc.
He carefully skirted the alpha's territory and pressed onward. He encountered countless high-level bosses along the way. If he could go around, he did. If he couldn't, he waited for the boss to move on. In the worst-case scenarios, he used a clone to draw its aggro.
A direct flight would have only taken three hours. However, having set out shortly after 2:40 PM, he didn't reach his destination until well after 9 PM.
Before him was a village straight out of a fairy tale. It was built upon the massive branches of a single, colossal tree that stood fifty feet tall and thirty feet thick.
The inhabitants were even more remarkable. Each one had long, pointed ears, a slender build, and flowing golden hair. Their voices, carried on the gentle breeze, were as melodious as music.
The village was named Aelindale. Its people were Elves.