Ren glimpsed a massive mushroom field unfolding in front of him. The big, ice-white caps and gently moving mycelium were quite a view, standing out against the distant skyline.
The sky above was cloudy. A gust of wind blew, and light spores jumped from under the mushroom caps, taken away by the breeze.
In the Polluted Zone, the more gorgeous sothing looked, the more perilous it usually was.
The sight brought back so of Ren’s toughest mories. He had lost everything he loved in a similar spore-filled Polluted Zone.
He vividly rembered the sky full of spores, the ground covered in bodies, and the terrible situation he was in.
Looking at the pure white mushrooms, Ren slowly and quietly stepped back. He bumped into the cold brick wall of a street corner, noticing that he was sweating heavily.
By now, he had traveled through many areas of the Zone, eting many who had dared to enter. He learned that despite their readiness, the fights in the Polluted Zone remained harsh, with a death rate higher than ever before.
Ren sprinted as fast as he could, pushing his boundaries. He saw many victims along the way and asked the survivors, but no one had seen Kestrel.
Once, after turning a corner, Ren saw a woman’s body at the street corner, her long black hair sprawled out. His steps froze and fear overca him. Even though he quickly knew it wasn’t Kestrel, his heart ached with worry, as if a fla was heating it up from inside.
Leaning against the cold wall, Ren took a deep breath, feeling the sweat run down his face.
"Calm down," he reminded himself, "Kestrel is a tough person, tougher than ."
But then he rembered Kestrel’s weaknesses - her thin wrists, her lack of physical power, her struggle to run fast or jump far.
Ren stared at his hand, rembering her fragile hand once holding his black-gloved one. He yearned for a comforting gesture at this mont, a tap on the back of his hand, or even a touch on his ankle.
The Polluted Zone of the Erdtree had attracted nurous explorers, but over the years, most who went in never ca back.
It was one of the most dangerous Polluted Zones worldwide. Those who decided to enter it, regardless of their motives, were mostly desperate folks trying their last luck.
In Ren’s mind, Kestrel, as pure and lovely as the moon, should have been living an easy life, maybe enjoying afternoon tea in a flower-filled garden with cakes and friends around.
However, he had a lingering feeling that despite her delicate and elegant look, Kestrel was a lot like him. Beneath her gorgeous exterior were wounds and flaws, signs of past suffering and rot, stopping her from expressing her feelings like a regular person.
He rembered their psychic selves touching each other at the ocean’s bottom, and how they held each other on that depressing night. Kestrel had seen Ren’s deepest feelings, and Ren had observed the beautiful, but distant and sowhat lonely sea creature within her.
Ren realized that Kestrel often didn’t look after herself, sotis even showing signs of self-harm. For her own goals, she would overlook her safety, even exhaust herself without thinking twice.
Ren could exhaust himself, but he could never stand to see her vanish.
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he pushed his confused thoughts aside to regain his calm. Checking his weapons, he skirted around the mushroom patch and carried on.
At a street corner, he t an acquaintance—Cockroach, with whom he’d shared a beta pheromone and swapped information at a tarven the night before.
Cockroach was sitting on the ground, leaning against a wall, casually puffing on a beta pheromone stick.
A frost-white mushroom had sprouted from his head.
Gooey, white mycelium hung down, partially hiding Cockroach’s face. The soft, web-like threads swayed and slowly started to infiltrate his shoulder and body.
"Don’t look at like that." He saw Ren, pulling the beta pheromone stick from his mouth. "You know the line of work we’re in. It was only a matter of ti. I guess I’ve lived longer than most."
"How much longer can you hold on?" Ren asked him, standing a bit away. His voice was devoid of any particular worry or pity.
Cockroach looked at Ren for a mont before letting out a bitter laugh. "You..." Their friendship was shallow at best, but he imdiately understood the aning behind Ren’s question.
Those who live on the brink of death often share certain traits, and they don’t always need deep bonds to understand each other’s thoughts.
Ren hoped that Cockroach could hold on a little longer, till he could unlock the portal. If they could get out, there was still a chance of survival.
"It’s symbiosis," Cockroach told the younger man. "I won’t die so easily. There’s still plenty of ti."
The Polluted Zone of the Erdtree was like a terrifying dream, sparing its intruders an imdiate death but flipping the roles of humans and animals, subjecting them to a drawn-out, degrading tornt.
Therefore, those who stayed here long enough almost always slipped into insanity.
The possibility of soone opening the portal of the Polluted Zone might not comfort veterans like Cockroach much, but Ren could be an exception. Having explored and safely returned from the Polluted Zone 381 tis, he was seen as the toughest among all northern outpost alphas.
If he could indeed open the gate, there was a chance for many stuck here to escape alive, as long as they hadn’t lost their minds.
"Don’t hurry," Cockroach advised Ren, sitting there. "Be careful, and even more careful. As long as you’re alive, I feel there’s still a spark of hope for everyone."
Ren simply nodded, not saying anything more before turning to leave.
"Hold on," Cockroach stopped him. As the mushroom rooted in his body, he had glimpsed so truths about the Polluted Zone.
"I think I get it now," Cockroach said, pointing at his head. "Everything here is soone’s dream. You need to find that person hiding. He is the Backbone of this place, the Erdtree."
He paused before adding, "Go to the Rose Camp, Ren."
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