The first thing that felt different about this world was the color of the sky.

The pale cream-colored sky, clearly unlike Mika’s world, was dotted with white clouds.

“The color of the sky changes with the seasons. During winter, it’s a yellowish hue. As spring approaches, it gradually turns greener.”

Zurah pointed at the sky with her magic staff as she explained.

Most people seemed to live inside the town walls, so there weren’t many house-like structures along the road. Instead, there were fenced farmlands here and there, with cute little storage sheds placed among them. Vegetables peeking out from the neatly tilled soil created a pastoral scene.

The path they were walking on wasn’t paved, but the well-trodden dirt road had almost no grass growing on it. The soil and stones didn’t seem all that different from what Mika knew.

The plants growing along the roadside also looked like ordinary weeds and shrubs she might have seen somewhere before. Spotting small yellow flowers peeking through the grass, she absentmindedly reached out to pick one.

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

A shrill scream echoed through the area.

Startled, Mika stumbled back, but Gatt reassured her.

“Ah, that’s a Dandelion Mock-Mandrake, Mika. Good eye.”

Dada turned around to explain. Zurah searched the area where Mika had picked the flower, grabbed a large, dark green leaf, and dug up the remaining root.

The ginseng-like root vaguely resembled a human shape, though it had no face or features.

“What was that scream just now?”

“A defense mechanism of this plant. When animals or other creatures come near and try to dig it up, it makes that sound.”

“It contains a hallucinogenic component that attracts certain animals and magical beasts. If something tries to bite or tear it, it lets out that noise to drive them away.”

“The ones with yellow flowers are less toxic than regular mandrakes and are sometimes used in certain… aphrodisiacs. The Guild buys the roots, so let’s take this one back.”

“…I see. Very otherworldly!”

Maybe something like this grew in hidden corners of Mika’s world too, but she wouldn’t know.

Though the group occasionally caused a bit of commotion like this, they continued their peaceful journey without any major incidents.

After about two hours of walking, the well-trodden gravel path turned into an uphill slope leading into the mountains. The winding trail, weaving between trees, was surprisingly wide for a mountain path, with visible cart tracks likely used for transporting ore.

A log cabin stood along the way, seemingly a resting spot for miners—but in reality, its front door was actually a Door. Mika made sure to note its location before they moved on without stopping.

At the end of the path was a gaping black hole, just low enough that Mika had to duck slightly to enter.

The entrance had once been crudely boarded up, but the wooden planks now lay scattered around, leaving it completely exposed.

Iblieth apparently disliked sunlight and wouldn’t come out during the day. But at night, they would swarm out and roam the area, draining the magic from nearby plants and animals. While losing all their magic wouldn’t kill them, the victims would suffer from a mild fever and muscle pain until they recovered—apparently, it was “annoying in a really tedious way.”

“There are probably over a hundred Iblieth inside. At this time of day, they won’t chase us outside, so let’s just go in a little to check the entrance.”

Cautiously, the group stepped a few meters inside and peered into the darkness. Though not as bright as a dungeon, faint outside light and the remaining magic lamps along the mine shafts provided enough illumination—about as much as a dimly lit night street. Within that gloom, a massive, writhing shadow loomed.

With a rustling of wings, several Iblieth emerged from the darkness.

“Let’s fall back for now.”

Dada whispered the warning, but it was already too late.

Guided by the few Iblieth, the shadowy mass—just barely skimming the mine’s ceiling—swept over Mika and the others, circling behind them to block the exit.

The writhing mass of darkness was, in fact, a swarm of hundreds of Iblieth.