Before the final rays of the setting sun plunged beneath the horizon, Pierce and Valeria finally emerged from that suffocating, dense forest.
As the shadows of night surged over the island like a rising tide, the two arrived at a deep cleft at the base of a cliff. Backed by a gargantuan granite wall and surrounded by rocks rounded by eons of sea winds, it served as an excellent haven for the night. Valeria, appearing somewhat spiritless after the day’s heart-shaking events, volunteered to stand the first watch.
Pierce shook his head. With a casual flick of his sleeve, a deep streak of black peeled away from his skin, unfolding in the air into a crow with eyes as red as fresh blood.
"Let it keep watch. In the darkness, its perception is far closer to reality than ours," Pierce remarked, patting Mistfeather’s head.
Valeria’s eyes widened, staring in bewilderment at this uncanny familiar. In the textbooks of the Arcane Academy, crow familiars were generally considered the most mediocre of choices—possessing almost zero combat potential beyond cheap reconnaissance. She could not comprehend why someone of Pierce’s caliber, capable of breaking into the top twenty, would contract such a "useless" creature.
Pierce, however, had no intention of explaining. He retrieved a set of alchemical cookware from his Dimensional Pouch and used the remaining wood to kindle a small, flickering campfire.
Soon, as steam rose, a pot of "otherworldly Oden"—a blend of dehydrated rations, fresh herbs, and cured venison—emitted a seductive, rich aroma. Pierce took a sip of the savory broth, narrowing his eyes in satisfaction. In the wizarding world, the ruling class pursued things like Life Tree Sap or Soul Fruits that could directly bolster spirituality; few were willing to spend effort on the "mundane matter" of seasoning.
"Unbelievable... your culinary skill is more intoxicating than those expensive alchemical potions," Valeria said, holding the hot soup, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.
Pierce looked at the girl’s gray robe, which remained nearly pristine despite the day’s battles, and offered a faint smile. "It’s merely a way to give myself a sense of being alive amidst the cold intervals of experimentation."
After dinner, Pierce manipulated energy particles to swiftly purify the utensils before rising to walk toward the dark perimeter of the camp.
"I’ll set some sensory traps around and check for usable materials. Stay by the fire; do not step outside the shield’s radius."
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Pierce walked slowly through the rock piles. He knew that in Valeria’s eyes, he was a knowledgeable elite, but only he knew that his efficiency in searching for materials on this deserted island depended entirely on the trans-dimensional auxiliary system within his mind.
Suddenly, Valeria let out a crisp call from nearby.
"Pierce, come look at this! The plants here grow so strangely."
Pierce followed the sound. In a sheltered corner at the base of the cliff grew a cluster of vivid, crimson flowers. Their petals were as translucent as rubies, radiating a nearly sinister allure under the moonlight.
"Frenzy-Lure Blossoms," Pierce’s gaze narrowed slightly.
"Frenzy-Lure Blossoms?" Valeria reached out curiously, intending to touch them.
"A Rank 1 material containing potent spiritual toxins," Pierce halted her movement. "The scent from its evaporating sap can travel several kilometers, specifically designed to lure bloodthirsty beasts into a state of madness. It is the core component of the Frenzy-Beast Potion. On this island, it is a fuse for death."
Valeria instantly retracted her hand in fright. If these flowers were shattered here, it wouldn't be long before the area became a slaughterhouse for high-rank beasts.
Pierce knelt and began to skillfully harvest these precious herbs. Every 100 milliliters of pure sap could be sold for 1200 Gold on the black market. There were about thirty blossoms here, with a total value nearly equaling half of his previous potion business.
However, as Pierce’s gaze swept over one particular blossom at the edge—the most exquisite in posture—the deep data returned by the Omniscient Eye made his heart leap.
Target: Frenzy-Lure Blossom
Status: Highly Mimicked
Original Form: Myriad Flower Fey
Pierce’s expression remained unchanged, but a cold sneer rippled through his heart. The fey worth 5000 Points, which countless geniuses were searching for in vain, was actually waiting here like a sitting duck by his camp, attempting to mock these lowly humans through mimicry.
Had it been Gwendolyn or Silas, even with their superior arcane vision, they would have found it difficult to see through a supernatural creature adept at illusion without direct contact.
Unexpected, isn't it? I hold the exploit!
Pierce maintained the rhythm of a harvester, picking the true flowers one by one until only that "lonely" blossom remained in the corner.
The breeze blew, and the fake flower swayed gently, seemingly still mocking Pierce’s dullness.
Just as Pierce reached out and gripped its stem, his lips moved rapidly, spitting out a string of precise arcane syllables like rapid-fire.
Hum!
The "Frenzy-Lure Blossom" instantly sensed the threat of death, its previously fragile stem erupting with startling strength as it struggled to break free from Pierce’s grasp. Valeria, watching from behind, was stunned; she had never seen a plant struggle so violently, like a snake.
At that moment, Pierce’s right hand was dyed a heart-shaking crimson.
Touch of Fatigue!
This was the deeply optimized version. Empowered by over 43 units of Spirit, a massive amount of negative energy was violently injected into the tiny body. The once-twisting plant let out a faint, microscopic shriek and slumped into a state of extreme frailty.
Emerald light exploded as the mimicry illusion was forcibly dispelled. A palm-sized creature—a butterfly-winged beauty in miniature—fell limply into Pierce’s calloused palm.
"M... Myriad Flower Fey?!" Valeria shrieked, her voice filled with unbelievable shock.
