Chapter 4: The Highly Respected Master Joseph?!

With things out in the open, our conversation flowed more freely. Seizing the chance, I quizzed the Old Mage about this strange new world.

"Master, what were those wolves earlier? They used magic?"

"Those earthwolves? Common magical beasts. Infected by earth-element mutations, the stronger ones can cast basic earth spells."

"Earthwolves? Such a boring name. Couldn’t you be lazier?"

"Foolish boy! Names are just labels—and simplicity aids adventurers. In battle, short calls strengthen teamwork."

"Really? That dramatic?"

"Youth, you’re too green! Imagine renaming them ‘Klars Masha’s Roar’—picture this battlefield scene..."

*"Frontline warriors, hold two Klars Masha’s Roars! Ranger and I flank left!"*

*"Captain! Five more Klars Masha’s Roars from the right—and three Ster Aruks!"*

*"Hold firm! As long as their leader—Mikosaki Daluha Atijiamituo Gold—doesn’t show, we win!"*

A chill shot down my spine. That scenario made my scalp prickle. Suddenly, "earthwolf" felt deeply meaningful—describing both appearance and elemental nature. A masterpiece of linguistic efficiency.

"Master! Why’s it called Crescent Lake? Is it shaped like a crescent moon?"

"Nope. Just an ordinary-shaped lake."

"Huh? Seriously? Another lazy name?"

"Nonsense! Legend says a sacred beast with a crescent mark lives there. When Crescent Town was founded, it protected our ancestors. To honor it, they named the town—and since the lake is its home, ‘Crescent Lake’."

"Wait—a sacred beast’s lake is ‘ordinary-shaped’?!"

"I said the *shape* is ordinary, not the lake itself."

This old man... I couldn’t tell if he was messing with me on purpose. Chatting with him always made qi surge through my meridians.

"About names—" Archmage Joseph suddenly stopped and turned to me. "You need a new one. ‘Mashang’ won’t work here. At least adopt a local name."

"No way! A true man never changes his name or surname. My grandfather gave me this—it’s my first gift in life. I won’t change it!"

"You’re dead. Or rather... Mashang is dead. Understand?"

"... ..." Staring at the Old Mage’s grave face, words failed me. He was right. I died. Mashang died. The one reborn here was still me—but no longer Mashang.

"Let me... think about it."

"*Sigh*... Young man, the dead can’t return. Grieve, but look ahead."

"Why does that sound weird? *I’m* the dead one, right? The one who kicked the bucket! Why tell *me* to ‘grieve’?!"

We chatted idly when rustling erupted ahead in the bushes. *Good grief!* More monsters? This time, I’d stay safely behind and cheer. My earlier heroics still felt painfully embarrassing.

Through the dappled foliage, I glimpsed firelight. A fire-element beast? *Heh—heh, having a big leg to cling to changes everything.* No fear now—just giddy curiosity. Turns out gossip truly is humanity’s fifth instinct.

"Archmage Joseph? Where are you?!"

"Master Mage! Master Mage!"

Distant shouts—townsfolk searching for him.

"Over here!" Master Joseph bellowed toward the flames.

Hearing his call, the firelight rushed closer.

"Master Joseph! We’ve been frantic!" A burly leader yelled from twenty meters away. Loud guy.

"Yeah! Why wander Terror Forest alone again? It’s dangerous!" Other youths chimed in.

"Hah! These forest monsters can’t touch me. Come, meet my new disciple!" Joseph pulled me forward. "Introduce yourself."

*Damn it, Master! Who’s your disciple?! What have you even taught me? Shoe-throwing? Staff-throwing?!*

I realized he was covering my origins—but a heads-up would’ve helped. Improvising now risked exposure.

"I’m Klars Masha," I said stiffly. "Master Joseph’s new disciple." *Please believe this.*

"Eh?! Nice to meet you! I’m Cook Lucient."

"Jack Robert."

"Hello..." Though puzzled, no one questioned it. *Master Joseph’s reputation really is something.*

"Master Joseph, let’s go—we’ve got a boat waiting at shore."

"Right, right. Off we go."

The enthusiastic youths surrounded Joseph, marching ahead. I trailed alone. *This scatterbrained old man’s respected? Is he some town hero?*

"Hey, buddy," I called to the last youth. "Does Crescent Lake keep passenger boats on standby?"

"I’m Martin Sybers—just Martin. Only fishing boats here. We borrowed Max’s skiff at the dock. Hiking the mountain path would take hours."

I’d thought the lake led straight to town. Thank goodness for these guys—between my chronic sense of direction and being an interdimensional newbie, finding home would’ve been impossible.

We reached the lakeshore. A "fishing boat" waited—barely. Thick masts, armored plating bolted to its massive hull. *Enough space for us all? Do you fish for whales or plesiosaurs here?* I’d scoffed at "fishing boat" earlier. *Yep. Definitely young and naive.*

As everyone scrambled aboard, I studied the steel beast: intricate runes etched on deck, giant ballistae chained to the rails, fishing nets glittering with metal hooks under a fishy stench.

"Master Joseph, hungry? I’ve got rations."

"Rations? Too dry! I brought premium roast meat."

"Master Mage, fresh fruit here..."

Their over-the-top enthusiasm puzzled me. *Is Joseph their spiritual guide? Leading them to enlightenment?* I glanced at the old man—he caught my eye, beard slightly swaying, pride glowing in his smile.

*Smug old coot! I haven’t forgotten how you tricked me. Careful—I might set your beard on fire.*

Suddenly, glowing blue runes flared at the stern. Wind surged. The boat accelerated, carving a white wake. Leaning on the rail, I admired Crescent Lake’s beauty. That strange sensation returned—I felt rhythmic movement, invisible yet undeniable.

"Wind magic? But weaker than the Old Mage’s wind blades. Heavy elemental leakage..." I muttered. Hours with Archmage Joseph had taught me basics.

*Flashy spells waste power—like a barking dog that doesn’t bite. When magic turns to light, efficiency drops. What good are fancy effects?*

Moonlight silvered the vast lake. White waves scattered emerald sparks—a breathtaking sight. Used to city neon, my heart surrendered to nature’s splendor. *Maybe... this isn’t so bad.*

***CRASH!!!***

A massive shadow leaped from the water, spraying a tidal wave. Moonlight revealed an emerald-scaled fish.

"An Azure Rainbow Pomfret?!"

"Nothing strange—wind-element mutated beast. Max’s *Mears* runs on wind runes. But one this big? Rare."

Even the locals gaped.

"Look! Shore’s near!" Cook boomed. "Figures on the dock—it’s Miss Monaluna!"

Instantly, the youths swarmed the bow.

"Miss Monaluna! I rescued your grandfather!"

"Get lost! *I* found the Archmage! Now you’ll go on a date with me, right?"

"Shameless pervert! Miss Monaluna, I only ask for a single kiss!"

Chaos erupted at the bow. Master Joseph stood amid the wind, utterly disheveled.

As we neared shore, I saw Miss Monaluna clearly: golden shoulder-length curls glowing under dock lights; a practical leather corset armored with metal plates; a metallic skirt over white stockings and iron boots. A warrior’s gear, yet radiating warmth like a gentle neighbor. Her lovely face smiled softly—a beacon in the cold night.

"Master, I finally understand why they respect you so much."

"Boy, some truths are best left unspoken. For everyone’s sake." His face turned tragic.

"Because they all want to marry your granddaughter?"

"... Klars Masha. Do you enjoy swimming?"