Pillar of Yita

The forest was deathly silent, the sunlight dappling through the tree trunks and hanging branches had a somber and sacred quality, covering every mound, stone, or rotted wood with lush, green moss. Outside in the sunlight, the leaves glistened while the shadowed sides of the trunks remained dark; at the edge of this verdant green, some clusters of conifer needles had prematurely yellowed.

Below, a person stood, focused, holding a lens to his right eye, clicking the brass ring around it.

The person was a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy, decidedly average in appearance with a hint of delicacy, and short hair neatly trimmed. He was of medium height, neither tall nor short.

His build was relatively slender, wearing an open dark blue robe with a hood, inside which he had on a grey vest with copper buttons, the collar of a white shirt peeking out from beneath its neckline, adorned with two bright silver stars.

The hem of the robe reached just below the knees, revealing a small portion of his dark grey trousers, frayed at the edges. Below were well-worn leather shoes, the toes scuffed in various places.

On his back, the boy carried a cylindrical tin box, its silver-white surface gleaming. Along the top from left to right, it featured four concave slots, brassy and lined, resembling some sort of plug-in. The box bulged slightly on the sides with a peridot mounted across the center, its interior softly rotating light, and was strapped to his body with four buckles on leather bands.

Beneath the box was a brass stopcock connected to a leather tube leading to a thick glove on the boy’s right hand, equipped with a complex device. Around its brass face, several silver tracks moved minutely in all directions, occasionally making clicking sounds.

The boy squinted with his left eye, the other eye peering out from the lens, which was speckled with dirt. In the distance, he could see the ancient elf ruins by the Golgon Riverbank, the sanctuary’s white semi-domed roof piercing the tree canopy, draped with parasitic wisteria plants.

He clicked the lens once more.

This vast forest, known as Fanna Forest, lay to the north of the Sea of Ancient Trees, above which a solitary mountain hovered quietly atop the Cloud Sea, its snowcapped ridge gleaming in the sunlight like a proud silver dragon.

Toward the south of the mountain range, the terrain gradually sloped into a basin, peppered with towering ancient trees, a picturesque scene.

It was utterly beautiful.

He gazed contentedly for a while until the view began to shake and then spiraled out of control, descending rapidly. Suddenly, a shimmering object dropped from the treetops and with a whoosh fell into the nearby bushes.

The elf ranger named Sicape dashed toward it, rummaged under a piece of chalk and after a moment, emerged from the low bushes with a brass-shelled, hemispherical gadget in hand, waving to the others, ”Found it, over here!”

It was a Clockwork Fairy, its copper casing reflecting the sunlight, sparkling in Sicape’s hand.

Her scouting skills were superb, combined with the innate abilities of her elf clan, the Clockwork Fairy in the bush stood out in her field of vision like a heat source under infrared light.

But Fang Hong couldn’t see it this way.

For he was an Alchemist, and those low bushes appeared to him no different from any other part of these vast, pristine forests.

”Ade!” This was Fang Hong’s ID in this world, Sicape called out to him, tossing the sphere his way. ”Thanks, Miss Sicape!” Fang Hong caught the ball and flipped up his lens while opening his left eye, his pupil brown-black like most Chinese, but the iris around it flamed outward, stunningly beautiful.

This world had no magical magic, but ancient Magicians had invented Alchemy and the formula for equivalent exchange to harness magical power, allowing people to utilize powerful tools. These tools belonged in two categories: one that ordinary people could use, called Magic Guided Conductors, and another only adaptable to those with appropriate magic aptitude, known as War Gear.

However, only professional craftsmen known as Alchemists could maintain and energize either type.

”No need to thank me,” Sicape said slyly, eyes twinkling, ”That’s part of your salary.”

”Just make sure room and board are included!” Fang Hong replied nonchalantly with a smile.

”Just joking, I didn’t expect you’d actually use the Clockwork Fairy, startled me there! Ade, why not just join our Adventure Group?” Sicape looked at him half-seriously.

”That won’t do, I’ve only just arrived in Eteliria, I have my own goals! I will go to see the Holy Mountain, explore the Giant Tree Hill of Nulinari, and I might even visit the homeland of the Wilderness People, Rotao—then cross the Continental Bridge to the imagined second world, chasing the footsteps of the Pioneers, maybe one day I’ll even start my own Adventure Group.”

”Tsk! Such grand words from a brat who doesn’t even have magical adaptability, you’d be wise to stick to staying in Tarun before you end up losing your life,” Sicape said, knocking him on the head, irritated.

Fang Hong laughed, clutching his head, unfazed.