Chapter 45: The Tale of Zephyros and the Wind’s Whisper Forest

Adventurer’s Guild.

Elara and Hilvyn entered, one after the other.

Serene was at her usual window, engrossed in processing commission documents.

“Serene, you’re back too.”

Hilvyn was a little surprised; Serene had been guarding the guild’s potion stall on the basement floor just before noon.

“Ah, if it isn’t little sister Baizhi and Miss Black Rose.”

Serene looked up, her gaze meeting theirs. “The dungeon is in its final stages, so the Guild Master has called some people back.”

Hilvyn’s hair had been dyed black again, yet Serene made no mention of it.

‘Elara silently marveled at Serene’s exceptional professionalism. She never pried into matters she shouldn’t, yet always offered assistance within her capabilities.’

“You two have just returned from the dungeon and haven’t even rested. How diligent you are.”

“Actually, we have something to report.”

Upon hearing this, Serene’s expression grew serious.

“What is it? The forest corruption problem, or the dungeon?”

‘Forest corruption?’ Elara wondered, surprised. Nevertheless, she got straight to the point. “The dungeon. We discovered a new route on the 53rd floor.”

Serene gestured towards the stairs. “Dungeon issues must be reported to Guild Master Sevia. As an A-rank team, you can speak with her directly.”

“Alright.”

It seemed inquiries about the forest corruption would have to wait.

****

As they ascended the stairs, Elara and Hilvyn quickly coordinated their story, just to ensure Hilvyn wouldn’t inadvertently ‘correct’ her later.

“Knock, knock.”

“Enter.”

Pushing the door open, they found Sevia seated at her desk as usual, engrossed in guild affairs.

She didn’t even lift her head. “What is it this time?”

“We discovered a new route on the 53rd floor.”

“I thought it would be something more significant.” Sevia’s tone clearly indicated a lack of interest, yet she gestured towards the long bench. “Have a seat.”

The two sat down side by side.

Elara then used the provided data to mark the details for Sevia, carefully omitting any mention of their fall or the wyvern.

After Sevia confirmed the information repeatedly, her demeanor softened slightly.

“Alright, the data will be updated later.”

“Guild Master,” Elara’s curiosity surged. “It feels as though you’re not particularly keen on handling matters like this.”

She was referring to the process of cross-referencing and updating dungeon intelligence.

Sevia, as if her thoughts had been read, rolled her eyes helplessly at the ceiling. “It’s all because of the rules that little brat of a Guild Master made.”

“These trivial matters insist on being updated by the Vice Guild Master or the Guild Master themselves. He’s rarely seen, perhaps a few times a year, so all the work falls squarely on my shoulders…”

Once her floodgates were opened, Sevia launched into a torrent of complaints.

However, complaining about the Guild Master to their faces wasn’t a sign of favoritism towards Elara and her companions; it was an ‘old tradition.’

During meetings or discussions, Sevia often used the Guild Master as a comedic counter-example, openly grumbling in front of guild members and adventurers alike.

Anyone who had spent a bit of time in the guild was aware of this situation and tacitly pretended not to hear.

Sevia also broadly explained the reason for her frustration: the Guild Master had established a rule that any new discoveries in the dungeon *must* be submitted to either the Guild Master or Vice Guild Master for confirmation before being updated.

As a result, every time the dungeon opened, ‘new routes’ and ‘new discoveries’ were reported daily. Yet, upon comparison, all of them turned out to be old routes that had long since been explored.

Since the Guild Master was rarely in Wind’s Whisper City, all this meaningless ‘overtime’ fell solely upon her, greatly irritating her.

Elara remembered… the Guild Master must be over 60 years old by now.

Yet, in Sevia’s eyes, he was indeed still a ‘little brat.’

‘Fortunately, our discovery is a genuinely new route, which is why the Guild Master’s attitude improved slightly,’ Elara thought, secretly relieved.

“Anything else?” Sevia took a sip of water.

“Guild Master,” Hilvyn raised her hand. “I’d like to ask, if a dragon doesn’t eat or drink and just sleeps, how long can it live?”

Elara straightened her back instantly—’Didn’t we just agree not to mention dragons?’ she thought.

Still, it was a question she was curious about, so she decided to listen for now.

Sevia didn’t find the question strange, but rather cunning.

“I don’t know the answer to your question either.”

She pondered for a moment, then added, “First, a dragon is unlikely to let itself starve continuously. Second, to answer your question, there was once an evil dragon in a certain place that survived for 300 years while sealed. And that one was awake; one that slept constantly could live even longer.”

“Ah?” A flicker of distress crossed Hilvyn’s face.

“What, did you two encounter a dragon?” Sevia asked casually.

“No.” Elara replied just as casually, then quickly changed the subject. “We’ve been in the dungeon. When we came up, we heard everyone talking about the forest corruption. What’s happening?”

“You don’t know?” Sevia sounded a little surprised.

As Vice Guild Master, she was familiar with the résumés of A-rank adventurers. Elara had been in Wind’s Whisper City for five years, yet seemed unaware of the legends surrounding this matter.

Elara looked puzzled. “Should I know?”

It was a minor detail, and Sevia was quite happy to tell stories to the younger generation.

“This involves the birth of the Wind’s Whisper Forest.”

“Legend has it that…”

Long, long ago, at the culmination of the world’s myriad winds, the first pure-blooded dragon was born. It was the Storm Dragon, named Zephyros.

Zephyros was a child of the wind, so the Wind God Hilmellia tamed them, keeping them by her side as she traveled the world.

One day, a great defilement erupted from deep within the earth. From this corruption, another pure-blooded dragon was born: the Decay Dragon, Verglai.

Zephyros went to cleanse the defilement, battling Verglai. Ultimately, Zephyros slew Verglai, but was gravely wounded and fell to the earth. In their dying moments, Zephyros used their own body to cover and purify the defilement, their colossal form giving rise to what would become the Wind’s Whisper Forest.

“That is the story of Zephyros, the Storm Dragon, and the birth of the Wind’s Whisper Forest.”

Elara and Hilvyn were both captivated by the tale.

“So, this defilement was caused by Verglai?” Hilvyn asked curiously.

“No,” Sevia refuted. “Verglai is dead, and the defilement itself has always existed.”

“The Wind’s Whisper Forest used to possess immense power to purify the defilement on its own, requiring no human intervention. However, as its power gradually waned, we now need to actively assist in clearing the corruption.”

“The manifestations of this defilement are corrupt monsters and corrupt aggregates that appear on the ground.”

“Are these corrupt monsters and aggregates difficult to kill?” Hilvyn mentally pictured what a corrupt monster might look like.

“Some are easy, some are difficult.”

Sevia fell into thought, reminiscing.

Elara asked curiously, “How often does it erupt, and how difficult was the most challenging outbreak?”

“The timing is uncertain, but it happens at least once every few decades.”

“As for the most difficult time, that was two hundred years ago…” Sevia sighed. “Everyone was helpless, forced to watch as that aggregate continuously spawned monsters.”

“So how was it resolved?”

“At that time, the eight S-rank powerhouses in the city were all at their wit’s end. It was then—” Sevia paused dramatically. “—that the Hero Aivyn appeared.”

Elara’s pupils constricted.

“With just a single strike, she annihilated the largest aggregate.”