I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 725: Savage Silks and Stitches

Leaves crumbled beneath Adam’s feet, the scents of pine and wild game—freshly killed—filled his nose. Long blood trails stretched across the musty earth. They snaked through trees and mounds to the predators’ burrow.

Mushrooms clung to roots and gnarled barks, feeding on glistening sap. Insects stood on patterned webs of their own making, poised on grass, ready to strike smaller prey, or flying from one plant to another, each playing their part with clear purpose. No matter how he looked at them, they were more than creatures—they were the forest’s silent architects.

Amidst the wonder, his eyes narrowed on the ghostly mist blanketing the forest. It licked his skin a little more with each step. Cradled against his chest, Qing shuddered as the frosty sensation increased, and in front of him, Yann let out disgruntled grunts.

"This damned mist tries to crawl beneath my skin." Yann eventually punched the air, mist spreading outward in concentric circles for a fleeting moment before slithering back as if nothing could disturb it. "Tsk. We’d better make haste."

He pointed at a squirrel perched on a twisted branch. Adam followed his finger, gazing at a ball of white fur. It should have been cute. Its piercing red eyes weren’t. Neither were its protruding jagged teeth.

His eyes widened as he took in the earlier insects. All white. All filled with spikes, and blades, and claws they shouldn’t possess. All powerful magical beasts.

"What’s this place?" He asked, his steps noticeably faster. "Is the mist corrupting them?"

Shadows danced on Yann’s face as his voice grew heavy with tension. "Not corruption, lad. A side effect. I know where we are—the cursed forest of Ashenveil Grove. Few dare to cross it, and even fewer have reasons to."

Adam tucked his fingers around his chin, scrutinising the barbed stinger and sharp wings of a hornet. "The region we landed in is indeed isolated. Suits me—fewer risks of being found out. But side effects? What did they try to achieve?"

"Purification," Yann answered with a simple word, yet his curved moustache twitched like flickering candles. "There is something you must know about the archipelago. Unlike rogue mages, no one hates cultivators here. Instead, they turn their rage toward the supernatural. Some say this remote forest was meant to purify ghosts, others that it trapped their souls into its ecosystem."

He waved his hand, his brow creasing in worry. "No matter what the mist does, it turns wild beasts into bloodthirsty magical beasts. And they’ve been eying us since we entered their territory, waiting for the right moment to strike."

"Let them try." Adam’s eyes flared, sky-blue mana and grey qi drifting. "I’ll burn the entire forest to the ground."

"Then, we’ll die." Yann spun on his feet, gripping his shoulder with a frown deep enough to age him ten years. "Not from beasts. From men. They consider it a historical site. And the land behind it isn’t worth its destruction. Anyway, their instincts are sharp. They know attacking will spell their doom... unless we threaten their habitat."

He turned back, stomping over a dense shrubbery from which hideous insects immediately scrambled with outraged hisses. "Walk faster if you understand. And don’t try to fly over it. What’s above is... worse. Much worse."

Adam scrutinised his surroundings, unimpressed by Yann’s story about ghosts. He had cleaved a path through the ghostly canyon’s evil ghosts.

But he was one thing, the shivering Qing another. With a gentle touch on her forehead, his mana weaved into solid threads. They pulsed a sacred radiance as they sewed themselves together, unfurling into a brilliant, long dress that repelled the mist.

Qing’s trembling lessened, and she soon closed her pink eyes, eager to rest her tensed nerves rather than enduring this forest’s eeriness. She knew nothing would happen to her, not when her big brother carried her. So she fell asleep, her rhythmical breath echoing against Adam’s bones.

Yann witnessed the magic with a snarl. But his pride didn’t allow him to request a protective dress. Anyway, he’d be damned if he wore those frills and embroidered butterflies.

A brow raised, he clicked his tongue. "Amateur who wastes time and energy on useless decorations. And arrogant enough to display qi, spatial ring, and cultivation robes on the mage archipelago. Put them away if you want to avoid the displeasure of meeting enforcers and their mana-suppressing chains."

"Right." Adam placed his ring inside his pocket before his lips twisted. Mage clothes weren’t something he owned. Though he could sew a few in the blink of an eye, an existential question prevented him from doing so. He needed an answer. "What’s the trend in the archipelago?"

Yann leaned forward, frowning. "Does it matter? My cloak was trendy around five hundred years ago. But you know how fickle people’s interest is."

"Exactly!" Adam pointed at him, his voice crackling like a burning fire. "One day, your cloak is your district talk, the next, they look at you as if you were a beggar. But more than that, style above all!"

"What nonsense—" Yann’s words froze in his throat, his eyes widened as pieces of silk, thin and vibrant, erupted from his spatial ring.

They ruffled softly like feathers drifting to the ground before mana needles disturbed their fall. Holes were pierced, and stitches connected the sheets into a long coat. A piece of curated leather followed, mana scalpels separated it into smaller pieces before a string of rivets fixed them around the coat’s shoulders down to the chest. Finally, a piece of snow white fur appeared. The hands stitched it around a hoodie and over the leather, adding a feral sense of elegance to the newborn piece.

Adam’s obsession with style had merely started. Diamond-shaped patterns lined the leather, each hiding a string of enchanting symbols. The vibrant silk took a dark brown shade as obsidian limbs were embroidered. Bulging arms capable of levelling mountains, a howling maw that seems to contain an abyss, and horns raised against the heavens—the tragic Behemoth that died under the even more tragic Lin Yao’s blade, fluttered in the wind like a living beast once more.

Yann blinked once. Then, realising he had merely taken three steps since Adam started, he blinked again. Words dissolved like ice under the summer sun, leaving his jaw dropping open as Adam used his mana to make Qing hover while he switched his robes for the cloak.

"Not bad." Adam nodded in satisfaction as the fabric caressed his skin. Then, he snapped his fingers, the mana hands swirling around his pants. In a heartbeat, they adjusted its style, sewed leather pockets, and added a thick belt that emphasised his thin waist. "I only miss a pair of boots and a collection of shirts. A hat would do, too. I used to have one."

As a soft smile spread across his face at the memory of Alina’s birthday gift, Yann almost choked on dry saliva. He had marked Adam a fool with a weird obsession, but now? His heart hastened each time he locked eyes with the fierce behemoth. And the craftsmanship... Pieces of higher quality he had seen were few, even in the college.

After a moment, he licked his lips, his hoarse voice breaking the forest’s tranquillity. "You didn’t tell me you were an enchanter."

"You didn’t ask." Adam shrugged, then his lips curved in a mocking grin. "What? Does the amateur’s useless decorations interest you now?"

"Humph," Yann snorted, fixing his eyes to the forest’s depths. "I’m only interested in the promised wine I won’t get if you keep squandering time." He whispered to himself, "Sharp bastard."

A predatory glint flashed in his eyes. No matter where, craftsmen were valued. If he could force Adam to spend time in a few cities during their journey, prestige would flow into his pockets like streams.

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AN: Still sick. I’ll try to write another Chapter with more information about the archipelago’s working, but I have a running nose, ultra ultra-painful throat, and my eyes sting...