The morning mist hung low over the trees, curling through the branches like a lazy spirit. Sylas sat cross-legged outside his hut, a tattered piece of parchment in hand, scribbled with mismatched symbols and half-translated phrases.
He rubbed his temples, groaning softly. "Why does 'buy' have four variations depending on tone and context? Who invented this language—bards on mushrooms?"
> [Language Mastery: 96%]
Status: Near Fluent – Minor comprehension gaps remain.
For the past three days, Sylas had done nothing but study. The seed patch behind him remained untouched except for careful watering. Even Captain Beak had started looking bored with the routine.
But Sylas wasn't giving up now. He could almost understand people fully—catching the general meaning—but conversations still had missing pieces, like someone mumbling through a locked door.
He needed a push.
Later that morning, Mira came by again, carrying a small bundle of herbs. Her visits were irregular, but Sylas welcomed them like a starving man welcomed bread. She was patient and sharp-eyed, and more importantly, she spoke clearly. Carefully.
"Cabbage sprout," she said, pointing to the fragile green shoot poking from the soil. "That means your hands are not cursed."
Sylas grinned. "Good to know. I was worried the chickens were plotting something."
She tilted her head, not understanding.
"Ah, sorry. Joke," he said, holding up his hands.
Mira smiled faintly. "You speak more. Better. Like child. But not chicken."
He laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
> [Language Mastery: 98%]
Contextual Understanding Improved.
Then it happened.
As Mira pointed at the herb bundle and slowly named each plant—"feverroot," "wormleaf," "springbark"—something in his mind clicked. The words stopped sounding like noise filtered through water. They snapped into place with meaning, tone, and texture.
It felt like a stone rolling into the right groove.
> [System Notice: Language Mastery Achieved – 100%]
You may now speak, read, and understand the regional dialect fluently.
Skill Unlocked: Multilingual Aptitude (F)
Bonus: +10% Learning Speed for New Languages
Sylas blinked as the words in his mind stopped feeling foreign. For the first time, he truly understood Mira's voice—not just what she meant, but how she said it.
"Mira," he said carefully, "thank you. You've helped me more than you know."
She raised an eyebrow. "That... was perfect."
He stood straighter. "I know. Because I finally get it."
She smiled. "Good. Then no more excuses for sounding like drunk."
The next few hours felt like a door had been blown off its hinges. Sylas wandered through the woods, repeating old phrases and reading the carved signs he'd once ignored. Everything made sense now—the warnings posted on trees, the labels in his System, even the scribbles on his old sack of seeds.
Words weren't just tools now. They were keys.
And Sylas planned to use them.
That afternoon, he returned to town with something new in his step—confidence. The guards recognized him and waved him through without a word. That alone felt like progress.
He walked through the market square like someone who belonged, ears open, soaking up every conversation. Merchants shouted about fresh bread and firewood. A child begged her mother for sweets. An old man grumbled about taxes and weather.
It wasn't noise anymore. It was life.
Sylas stopped at the same seed vendor from before. The woman, whose name he'd learned was Danna, greeted him with a nod.
"Back again, cabbage boy?" she said with a chuckle.
He laughed. "Guilty as charged. I'm hoping to expand into carrots. Maybe beans if I'm feeling wild."
Her eyes widened. "You're speaking fluently now. Huh. You have been practicing."
"I'm nothing if not persistent."
"You want another sack? Still ten copper."
He handed her the coins, no hesitation, no fumbling. "Throw in some onion seeds. I'm going to stink in every direction."
She cackled as she packed the pouch. "Careful, cabbage king. You might just become a real farmer."
As he returned to his homestead, Sylas felt something shift inside him. It wasn't just about language anymore. It was about belonging. Every word he now understood pulled him one step deeper into this world.
And with that understanding came new possibility.
> [New Quest Available]
Title: "Foundation of the Fields"
Objective: Grow and harvest three unique crops.
Bonus Objective: Trade produce in town market.
Reward: Unlock Farming Skill (E), Reputation Boost, Cooking Recipes
Accept?
Sylas smiled.
"System," he said. "I accept."
That night, as the stars settled over the silent trees and the soil cradled its tiny sprouts, Sylas sat beside his fire and opened one of the small books Mira had lent him—a basic text for children.
For the first time, he didn't see gibberish. He saw a story.
He read aloud under his breath, letting each word roll off his tongue like it had always belonged there.
And somewhere in the woods, a chicken clucked approvingly.