Game’s Dogma

Drako Yau was speechless when he saw the queue outside the store.

Isn’t this a bit too much? There are at least two hundred players here, right? I’ve heard that the old man only serves ten customers a day…

He didn’t go to queue up, but instead chose to try his luck. If he couldn’t meet Old Florist, it might perhaps be fate and he wouldn’t force it. Ki Industries was already producing various furniture for him anyway.

Drako Yau went up to Graceful Fragrancy’s door and said, ‘Mask of Yoda seeks an audience.’

Everyone went silent as if the word ‘Mask’ was a taboo which cannot be spoken of. Out of both fear and curiosity, they peeked at the red silhouette from behind.

No reply was heard from the store for a good while. Players who were queueing up were about to make him a laughing stock when an old, gentle voice came from behind the door.

‘Sir, there is only one quota left today, so all that remains are plants that have yet to be picked. If you don’t mind, please come in.’

‘Thank you.’ Drako Yau made a palm-fist salute and disappeared beyond the door.

Everyone could only fix their envious gazes on him as they saw him off into the store. Old Florist was almost a transcendent existence in the game because everyone sought his flowers, thus no one pulled off anything rash—guilds from Empyreon would surely hunt down those who dared to.

Such a sweet scent.

This was the first impression Drako Yau had upon entering Old Florist’s store.

Perhaps because he had been using Frost Form for so long, his five senses were far beyond that of ordinary people, which was why he was rather sensitive towards strong and irritating smells such as cigarettes and perfume.

Though the sweet scent was just as strong as perfume, it instead made him feel at ease. He soon realised that the scent was purely natural and contained no artificial ingredients. Such were the blessings of nature, and so it didn’t irritate his senses.

The store seemed more like a residential house. There weren’t any display stands, nor were there any receptions or counters. With walls on all four sides, the place was decorated with four paintings that illustrated the four seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

In the centre of the room was a large, circular table. The old man sat on one of the four chairs that were evenly spaced around the table with his back towards Drako Yau. He held a purple-sand clay pot in his hands, carefully brewing tea. Though vapour was steaming from the teapot, Drako Yau was sure the fragrance wasn’t from the tea.

‘Sir, have a seat,’ the old man said in a soft voice that hinted at his vicissitudes in life.

‘Mhm,’ Drako Yau said before striding towards the table and sitting down across from the old man. 

The two stared at one another. Of course, the old man couldn’t see anything apart from his mask, but he could see the old man’s face. It was nothing out of the ordinary: an aged face full of wrinkles. However, what stunned him the most was the old man’s vibe.

Such gentleness and composure. Even if the world might fall apart the next moment, the old man could still calmly brew and sip on his tea. Nothing in the world could affect him in the slightest.

Though Drako Yau believed he had a resilient way of the heart such that minor issues didn’t cause torrents in his emotions, the old man before him had the perfect way of the heart, even more so than Oda Nobunaga.

Drako Yau then turned his focus to the old man’s hands. They were full of callus, and they radiated the bitter scent of soil despite being void of any dirt or soil. After working with soil for so many years, his hands gradually radiated the scent of soil as well.

Two finger-sized teacups were placed on the table as the old man said, ‘Sir, have a drink.’

Drako Yau looked at the cup of tea then nodded and said, ‘Thank you.’ He picked up the cup and downed it in one gulp.

Old Florist frowned. ‘While my tea isn’t anything special, isn’t drinking tea in such a way rather wasteful? This is not how one should enjoy tea.’

Startled momentarily, Drako Yau quickly recovered and chuckled. ‘Please forgive my rudeness. Different people favour different plants, and the same goes for drinks. Sir, you prefer drinking tea, sipping on it while contemplating life and feeling the flow of time. It is a way of life as well as a hobby.

‘As for me, I prefer alcohol, savouring its frankness in a quick gulp. That’s why I can’t truly enjoy drinking tea. I apologise for wasting your great tea.’

Old Florist squinted his eyes as he sized up Drako Yau. ‘People who speak their minds are rare these days. I shall accept your apology then.’ He then stood up, though his back was slightly slouched. ‘If sir doesn’t like tea, this old man won’t force it upon you. Please wait here for a moment, I’ll be back soon.’

‘Sorry for the troubles.’ Drako Yau nodded.

Old Florist slowly entered the only room within the store and returned with three pots of plants shrouded in white mist. Everything above the pots was completely obscured by the dense mist. Drako Yau sneakily puffed at the mist, but the mist only trembled without dissipating.

Old Florist couldn’t help but smile. Even the famous Mask is such a young man at heart. He then said, ‘Sir, it’s an item from the system, so I don’t recommend trying any further.’

Drako Yau laughed and didn’t reply; his eyes were fixed on the three pots of plants. The sweet fragrance was stronger than ever with how close they were to him, and he could feel his ying-yang symbol circulating merrily.

The scent is helping me cultivate!

Old Florist said, ‘This is what I always do. You can pick one out of the three, but you cannot see what they look like, so it’s all up to chance. Their scents are still discernible though. Sir, take your time.’ 

He then looked curiously at the man who had taken the world by storm. He played the game just for gardening, didn’t engage in any battles, and was merely Level 7, but that didn’t stop him from being interested in the person whom everyone was talking about these days.

Meanwhile, Drako Yau was at a loss as he stared at the three plants before him.

Old Florist didn’t lie when he said the scents were discernible, but he was also being tricky. When placed so closely, the three scents mixed up to form a single indiscernible fragrance.

So in the end it’s still up to luck…

Magic Swordsman

Description: Black sheep among martial artists and outcasts among mages, they are magically talented humans who are hell-bent on pursuing the way of martial arts. They discovered a brand new path of combining magic into martial skills that then became the powerful ‘magic swordsmanship’.

Skill type: One can only proudly proclaim oneself a magic swordsman with extensive knowledge in magic and outstanding technique in martial skills. Magic arrays grant them exceptional destructive power while mana-infused martial skills help them decimate all enemies in melee combat.

Skill tree: Magic Array, Magic Swordsmanship.

Weapon type: Two-handed greatswords.

Class progression: ???

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