Chapter 876 Tales of the Journey

Chapter 876 Tales of the Journey

As they continued their ascent, Potato proved to be as relentless as the biting wind, always eager to interject with another tale or anecdote.

Ren couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the constant interruptions, knowing that their time was better spent focusing on the task at hand.

Despite the distractions, Ren remained steadfast in his determination to reach their goal. He knew that within the Heaven Realm lay countless quests and adventures, each with its own set of challenges and rewards.

But none of that mattered to him in this moment.

All he cared about was finding Lorelai, saving her from whatever peril she might be facing, and unlocking the path to Heaven Realm, so they could start clearing dungeons, get firstblood, and stabilized their guild as number one in the world.

In that way, no one would dare to challenge them again. Such a prominent position would serve as a formidable defense against rival guilds and corporations, establishing their dominance in the world.

It was Ren's strategic approach to safeguarding his team and ensuring that incidents like being blacklisted by other guilds and major corporations wouldn't recur.

After their position secured, Ren then would focus to the pressing issues of evolution and the impending end of the world.

Contemplating the potential devastation and how to communicate such dire warnings to others consumed his thoughts.

Ren found himself grappling with the challenge of conveying the gravity of the situation to those around him.

He hoped that others would begin to show signs of evolution, easing the burden of explaining the complexities of their predicament.

As he pondered the uncertain future and the daunting task ahead, Ren couldn't shake the sense of urgency weighing heavily on his shoulders.

With each passing moment, Ren's thoughts meandered through the possibilities and uncertainties that lay ahead.

Potato cleared his throat before continuing, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Erfitt don't experience death in the conventional sense of old age. Instead, they grow to such immense size and density that they become practically immobile, unable to sustain themselves."

Potato paused for effect, relishing the opportunity to share his knowledge. "Interestingly enough, it's not uncommon to encounter an Erfitt well into their second century still capable of scaling lichen-covered cliffs with surprising agility."

As he spoke, Potato gestured animatedly, his words painting vivid images of the Erfitt in the listeners' minds. "Erfitt come in a diverse array of forms and colors, but most are broader and heavier than humans. Their movements, particularly their legs, can be somewhat unnerving, and their long arms end with claws powerful enough to crush rocks with ease."

Ren and Evie didn't have any choice but to listen to Potato's rumblings. It was better than hauled into the air again. "Moving on to the Woodwose. That's my race by the way," Potato continued, seamlessly transitioning to the next topic. "We possess a unique trait of genderlessness, and our physical appearance defies any logical pattern. Our skin and 'hair' exhibit a spectrum of colors, ranging from purple and brown to orange."

Potato's voice took on a reverent tone as he described the enigmatic Woodwose. "Some Woodwose boast multiple eyes, while others lack discernible eyes altogether. Their voices vary widely, from a gravelly baritone to an airy childlike whisper. Despite our irregularities, Woodwose possess a commanding presence, often adept at diffusing conflicts through conversation rather than combat."

"Probably more like they're annoyed by your ramblings, so they'd rather just run away," Ren commented dryly, earning a chuckle from Evie.

Potato ignored the snarky comment, and painted a vivid picture of the Woodwose and their mysterious allure.

"And then there are the Mjuk," Potato continued, his voice tinged with a sense of solemnity. "They lack a natural 'face,' including eyes and mouth, which some find unnerving, while others find it oddly comforting.

"Their coloration varies across earth tones, often appearing pastel and creamy," Potato explained. "While Mjuk are believed to be immortal, they can be rendered inert if chopped up or burned.

"Despite their longevity, even the oldest Mjuk can't recall the bygone age when the Shapers still walked among them."

"You still okay in there, Ren?" Azazel asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Ren felt the urge to whack his head and swipe away that silly grin of Azazel's. He was clearly enjoying his agony with Potato's nonstop chatter.

Oh, how Ren wished he had chosen Mjuk instead. That silent lump of clay was comforting in its quietness, a stark contrast to Potato.

Potato suddenly halted the rockgoat. "Oh, that's odd."