Chapter 25: Unexpected Harvest

Wade walked across the wasteland under the dim moonlight that illuminated the path ahead. 

To call it a path wasn’t entirely accurate—it was just bare, rough sand and dirt. 

As far as the eye could see, emptiness, silence, and desolation dominated the landscape.

This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Without dense shrubs covering the ground, there were no dangerous snakes or insects to worry about.

As long as he avoided difficult ravines and patches of quicksand, the experience wasn’t much different from walking on a flat road. 

For travelers, this could be considered fortunate.

After all, Wade wasn’t out for a leisurely stroll—he wasn’t seeking birdsong, fragrant flowers, or picturesque skies.

However, there were two crucial points to remember when traveling through this area.

First: Maintain a clear sense of direction. In a place where every view looked nearly identical, losing one’s bearings would be troublesome.

Wade had experienced getting lost before. When sandstorms obscured the moon, he’d had no idea where he was, forced to wander aimlessly like a headless fly.

Before transforming the cave into his new home, he’d had a temporary resting hole. But that day, unable to find his way back, he’d simply leaned against a mound of dirt to rest.

Learning from that mistake, he now consciously used distinctive landmarks to navigate.

He stayed within familiar territory, avoiding unexplored areas. This way, even when the moon disappeared, he could still maintain his bearings.

The second thing to watch for: wandering skeletons.

The chance of encountering other skeletons was actually quite low. This wasteland stretched endlessly in all directions, and even with many skeletons roaming about, they were widely dispersed.

Moreover, a strong wind had recently blown through, seemingly carrying the bony creatures elsewhere. These skeletal beings traveled like tumbleweeds, borne away by the wind.

It was rare for Wade to journey outside without seeing a single skeleton.

Looking into the distance, all he could see was more wasteland stretching to the horizon.

Today, he probably didn’t need to worry about any skeletal brethren raising their arms to charge at him. Still, Wade called Mia back, not wanting her to stray too far.

Having traveled some distance from the cave into unfamiliar territory, he needed to remain vigilant.

Mia’s initial excitement about being outside had faded. The little creature now perched on Wade’s shoulder instead of floating about.

Wade advanced with intense focus. The open, unobstructed wasteland meant clear visibility—he could see other things, and other things could see him.

A seemingly peaceful place might conceal numerous dangers.

Fortunately, luck was on his side. Wade reached his destination without incident.

He stopped walking. Before him lay a valley flanked by cliffs on both sides, spanned overhead by an arched, root-like mass of thorns—a colossal structure requiring him to tilt his head back to see it fully.

It resembled a massive bridge connecting the gap in the valley, growing in a curved line from the dirt on one side to the dirt on the other.

The thorns’ surface was gray-brown with bark-like wrinkles, covered in outward-pointing spikes—each spike large enough to be a small house.

Only near the Thorn Forest had Wade seen thorns of such immense size. Their age was impossible to determine, but they appeared more massive and ancient than so-called thousand-year-old trees.

These enormous thorns were merely scenery to Wade. His target was smaller branches—those about as thick as his finger bones would suffice. Slightly thinner ones would work too, but anything larger would be difficult to handle.

Further ahead grew the smaller thorn branches, unable to span the valley like their massive counterparts.

Wade climbed a slope to higher ground. From this vantage point, the crisscrossing thorns formed an extraordinary sight—the gigantic ones twisting and spreading like complex roots, with hollowed sections resembling everything from birdcages to twisted spears.

Standing before them, Wade felt as insignificant as a speck of dust. He could even walk across their surfaces.

Though not his first time seeing them, Wade still felt like he’d stepped into a primeval forest from millions of years ago—albeit a monotonous one with only this single plant species, making the sight all the more striking.

Gathering materials from the edges would suffice.

Wade had no intention of venturing deeper. The interior was vast with complex terrain—one misstep could send him falling into unknown depths, requiring who-knows-how-long to find his way out.

Besides, there was no telling what might lurk within.

He was here to collect materials to reinforce his cave, not to play the role of adventurous explorer or curious scholar. There was no need to investigate these thorns’ origins.

Searching the valley cliffs for broken thorns, Wade quickly found a suitable one—about a meter long with a rough, irregular break showing signs of erosion, clearly snapped by natural forces.

Judging by the weathering, it had broken within the last couple days, likely weakened over time before the recent strong winds delivered the final blow. Located at the forest’s outer edge without larger thorns to shield it, breaking had been inevitable.

Natural breakage was rare for these resilient thorns, but the sheer quantity in this forest meant some younger branches would inevitably succumb to strong winds.

Like gathering firewood, Wade collected the broken thorns. Peering into the ravine below, he spotted more fragments barely visible through the blowing sand—soon to be buried completely when the next wind arose. The ravine served as a natural grave for these fallen thorns.

This worked to Wade’s advantage—he’d arrived at the perfect time. Only immediately after strong winds were there so many usable fragments. During his last visit, he’d found nothing suitable. Any later, and these too would have been buried.

He efficiently gathered a bundle of appropriately sized thorns.

Untying the cloth strip from his waist, Wade bound the thorns together to carry on his back like firewood.

Being a skeleton had its advantages—a living person would have had their clothes shredded and skin bloodied by the thorns’ spikes.

Time to head back, Wade thought.

But suddenly Mia flew off somewhere. Pausing in surprise, Wade received her mental signal—she wanted to feed.

Was there something edible nearby?

Wade called her back. She’d sensed something not far away—beneath that colossal thorn structure.

Only about a few dozen meters.

After brief consideration, Wade decided to investigate. Leaving the thorn bundle behind, he drew his warhammer and raised his round shield, keeping Mia within half a meter as she led the way.

Head lowered, Wade entered the shadows.

Something glowed there—a small patch of luminescent moss growing in the massive thorn’s crevices.

Beside the moss, Wade spotted a set of decayed bones.

These bones still wore clothing—a faded gray-green linen robe with pale fungal threads emerging from torn cuffs and hem.

At the skeleton’s waist hung three pouches, their openings sprouting tiny rootlets that burrowed between the ribs.

It even wore boots—thick-soled things resembling pressed bark and moss.