Chapter 63

My Combat Level has risen to mid-level 7.

I’ve invested in purchasing seeds on a large scale.

Though my money dwindled rapidly, I wasn’t overly worried because I knew it would come back even bigger. It was all thanks to the spirits that I could buy more seeds than originally planned—those little guys can do more work in a day than I ever could. They’re truly remarkable.

The reward for battling fairies while taking risks was certainly worthwhile. Even if there hadn’t been much loot, I probably still would’ve acted similarly, but when these kinds of bonuses come along, it’s hard not to crack a smile.

The rain has stopped.

The thunder and lightning have quietly faded away.

I see Anne curled up asleep in my arms, trembling slightly from fear. She looks so calm and elegant.

Is this what an angel sleeping looks like?

When you compare her unpredictable behavior with how serene she is now, it makes me wonder if maybe charm doesn’t need anything extra after all. That’s just how beautiful she is.

I gently slide my arm out from under her head.

Before I know it, the spirits are hopping around on me.

They’re urging me to hurry up and get to work, so I follow their lead. They seem to enjoy it so much—it’s repetitive labor, and I was a little worried they might get tired of it, but clearly, there’s no need for that concern. They love it.

Suri spreads her wings and glides magnificently through the air.

She lands silently on my shoulder.

Lately, she’s been flying more often, but she always returns to my right shoulder. It feels like it’s become her safe haven, which fills me with pride.

“Huff.”

As soon as I step outside, the heat hits me like a wall.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had the air conditioner running constantly indoors, but the temperature difference is making me uncomfortable.

Still, the spirits don’t seem bothered at all. They’re bouncing around happily. I grab some seeds from my bag and scatter them, each one picking up a type and stuffing their mouths full before heading off to plant them in the soil. Excellent. They’re clever and perceptive.

They understand concepts like spacing and designated planting areas—they follow my instructions precisely.

Could this be the power of mods? Or perhaps this isn’t typical spirit behavior? Hard to say since I’ve never experienced spirits before.

In past games, I used dark magic to summon skeletons as laborers, disregarding the opinions or goodwill of villagers. But now, doing something like that would raise eyebrows and paint me in a bad light. No need to invite unnecessary trouble when I have these adorable spirits working diligently.

Thus, I leave the sowing entirely to the spirits.

I visit the barn and chicken coop to check on the livestock, equipment, and buildings. If everything is fine, my morning duties are done.

Just having spirits around gives me so much more free time despite the increased workload. Their cuteness and diligence make them impossible not to adore.

Occasionally, when I show deep affection, Suri pecks my cheek with her beak—perhaps jealousy? Or maybe she just wants attention. Regardless, when I give her some, her round eyes brighten, and she beams with happiness.

Even her actions are getting cuter.

Though she’s growing into a majestic form, to me, she’ll always be a baby. Maybe it’s because we grew up together during her fluffy stage; she’ll forever feel like a small creature I need to protect.

It seems mornings will settle into this rhythm: spirits working, me checking on things, then returning home to eat breakfast prepared by Evangelin.

Afterward, I either follow a set schedule or tackle whatever tasks need doing.

Today, I’ve decided to mine for materials to craft additional Mithril Sprinklers.

With Suri well taken care of at home, I warp confidently to the mine.

Floor 60.

The dusty, heavy air of the mine greets me.

I pull out my pickaxe, its golden glow softly illuminating the space, and prepare for work. Equipped with jewelry and armor, I take a deep breath.

At higher skill levels, experience and senses expand abnormally.

Mining is no exception.

A sixth sense tells me where resources lie hidden.

An intuition estimates how much material exists.

And calculations predict how many strikes it’ll take to break through.

All these abilities merge into one cohesive expertise.

Clang!

First day miners who struggle holding their pickaxes due to resistance are long gone. Now, only a ravenous demon remains, rushing toward veins of Mithril and Orichalcum.

The oppressive atmosphere of the mine feels almost cozy now.

Or is it my heightened senses playing tricks?

Hard to tell whether it’s genuine familiarity or a skill-induced perception.

Regardless, my body adapting means I can move freely without issue.

Crunching over loose rocks, I descend further.

The deeper I go, the hotter it gets, the fiery heat becoming noticeable.

Floor 80 lies below, scattered with sharp obsidian fragments and gold-laden ores.

I notice how much faster my mining speed has become compared to before—a clear sign of improvement.

Sweat beads on my forehead and back as I work.

It’s less about the labor itself and more about enduring the harsh environment. Some kind of heat or flame resistance would help.

Skipping lunch, I push forward with renewed energy, aiming to finish early for dinner prepared by Evangelin.

Reaching beyond floor 90, I press on to floor 100, where I first met Suri.

Normally, I’d stop here, satisfied with reaching the goal and collecting rewards. Yet, seeing the Skeleton Door, I can’t resist opening it.

Creak…

Dust fills the air.

The stale, stagnant breath of forgotten spaces greets me.

As expected, it’s empty.

Or so I thought.

Something subtly stirs my senses.

A blocked passage.

No, a plain wall.

A solid, unyielding wall blocking any breeze.

Yet…

Instinctively, I swing my pickaxe at the sturdy wall.

Is it experience guiding me?

Or my body moving naturally?

High-level skills must change something fundamental. This wall hides something. My senses scream it.

“Hmph.”

Since when have I ignored my instincts?

They rarely steer me wrong.

So, I stubbornly swing my pickaxe at the wall.

BOOM!

Like rotten wood, the stone crumbles.

It wasn’t actually wood—it’s the result of skill, tools, and ability combining perfectly.

Stone collapses.

Bang!

Crash!

I demolish it relentlessly.

The fractured wall reveals more stone behind it.

But I continue, driven by an inner whisper.

Finally, a faint breeze brushes my face.

This enclosed space shouldn’t have such currents.

“Hmm.”

There it is—a certainty born from doubt.

Something awaits beyond.

Hot, dry air flows against my skin.

I strike harder with my pickaxe, guided by familiar patterns and rhythms honed from experience. Slowly, the wall yields, revealing what lies beyond.

“Huh…?”

Golden hues.

More accurately, sandy yellows.

Sand.

Hills of sand.

Dunes.

A desert stretches before me.

Unsure if it’s real, I widen the hole with my pickaxe. Shards of broken rock clatter to the ground. Finally stepping inside, I taste the gritty, dry air.

Only then do I truly recognize the desert.

“Desert…?”

A small lake sits nearby—an oasis, perhaps.

Nothing else in sight.

Where should I walk? How far?

The minimap shows nothing but sand, no matter how much I zoom out.

Why does this place connect to the 100th floor of the mine?

Looking back, I see the portal.

A jagged stone formation, proof this connection isn’t natural.

Moving between the two locations is easy, no restrictions apparent.

But why does this strange place exist?

Thinking about it, I realize I’m back to being a newbie, despite past gaming experience. Maybe new conditions apply?

A new area to explore awaits, though not today.

For now, I tuck away my excitement and return to the mine, aiming to arrive home in time for dinner prepared by Evangelin. Reaching floor 60, I activate the warp device, arriving home covered in dust and debris.

“Good job!”

Evangelin’s calm voice greets me.

“Great work!”

Anne’s cheerful voice joins in.

Somewhere along the way, Anne became a regular visitor in my home, though I didn’t complain too much. In a small village, neighbors often stay overnight—it’s not unusual.

Coming home alone to silence isn’t as comforting as having someone welcome you. Mentally, it’s reassuring to feel needed.

“Go clean up.”

Following Evangelin’s quiet yet commanding tone, I head to the shower.

Refreshed, I change into lighter clothes. A cold tea with ice and a hearty dinner cap off the day.

“Thank you, Evangelin. Always.”

“Oh, it’s my job. Anne helped a bit today.”

“Anne cooked?”

“I’m learning to cook!”

Anne stands proudly with hands on hips.

“Thanks.”

“Hmmph.”

Anne giggles oddly before the evening ends. Evangelin departs, and Anne follows, thanking her for helping out.

Tomorrow, they’ll likely return.

My house has turned into a workplace of sorts—a company with daily commutes.

Hmm.

Does that make me the boss?

If Evangelin’s the chef, what’s Anne?

Lost in such trivial thoughts, time flies by. As night falls, spirits gather at the door, excitedly announcing their day’s work with soft plops.

Covered in dirt and mud, I guide them to the bathroom for cleaning. They splash water everywhere, delighted by the sensation.

Once cleaned and dried, glowing faintly with silver light, I bring them inside. Despite their hard work, they show no signs of fatigue—truly dependable.

“Good job, everyone.”

Of all the fruits and crops I’ve offered, the spirits love Shine Muscat grapes the most. I carefully slice one open and feed pieces to each of them. Watching them chew happily brings joy to my heart.

Day 32 of summer comes to an end.

Summer’s halfway point has passed.

Around day 56, I should start preparing crops for the transition from late summer to early autumn.

With plans in mind, I drift peacefully to sleep.