5: A transaction

It was night, and in the deep, dark cave, the Halfling with the white beard held a glowing staff, illuminating my surroundings.

I opened my eyes and found everyone sitting in a circle, and I was at the center of it!

What exactly was going on?

My heart instantly grew tense.

Seeing me awaken, the hunter stumbled to his feet and slowly walked towards me.

I watched him helplessly as he once again placed the silver necklace around my neck.

Then, he pinched the necklace's pendant and chanted a spell.

That familiar sensation surged through me, just like the previous days; with a "buzz," my brain was once again assaulted by that energy.

Compared to the pain in my body, this stinging sensation was negligible, like a gentle mosquito bite.

Countless words and symbols flashed before my eyes again, making me feel dizzy and nauseous.

After a few dry heaves, I noticed the white-bearded Halfling and the Female Mage opposite me had cast spells on themselves again.

The white-bearded one said to me in his hoarse voice, "Let's make a deal."

"That voice is just like how I sounded when I had COVID years ago," I muttered to myself.

In fact, they had indeed contracted the COVID virus and Influenza A.

And I, a trans-dimensional traveler from the Blue Planet, carried various viruses and bacteria.

The difference was that they had no corresponding antibodies in their bodies, while I did.

At the time, I wasn't aware of this.

They all thought they were cursed by the ancient ruins inside the cave and never suspected it had anything to do with me.

Their fever and cough were caused by the virus, while my fever was due to wound infection.

My occasional cough was merely from choking on saliva and general weakness.

So, from the surface symptoms, there wasn't much difference between me and them.

I understood his words and replied, "I'm too badly injured; how can I help you?"

After a moment of silence from everyone, the Female Mage, Lavinia, was the first to speak:

"Ryan, I'm very sorry for getting you involved in this trouble. Such responsibility shouldn't be borne by a child."

The white-bearded one tried to stop her, but Lavinia waved her hand and continued:

"Teacher, it's meaningless to dwell on the details now.

Even if that batch of supplies hadn't been lost, it couldn't have been transported in.

We cannot blame a child for this.

Cough, cough…

Since the prophecy told us that everyone will perish, except for this child."

Lavinia gazed at me firmly, a glimmer of hope seemingly rekindled in her desperate eyes.

She continued:

"Since we want to ask for help, we should be honest, even with a child.

Ryan, I am Lavinia Throwstone from Green Field, a Halfling Mage;

This is my husband, Alton Branchbottom, a hunter;

This is my teacher, Mage Wizard Wedell Highhill."

Subsequently, the others also introduced themselves one by one.

"What are they doing? Making it so... tragic..." I secretly wondered.

Once everyone had finished their introductions, Lavinia continued:

"Ryan, I'm very sorry for bringing you into such a dangerous situation.

We have already discussed today that we will do our best to heal you and send you out of here.

It's just..."

A violent cough interrupted her words.

"Let me speak," Old Mage Wizard Wedell took over, "It's just that you have to promise to help us with one thing."

After he finished speaking, Wizard Wedell and the others quietly watched me.

"Okay!" I tried my best to raise my voice, "As long as you can save me, anything I can do, I will promise you."

The Old Mage stroked his white beard, nodding as he turned to another Halfling and said:

"Very good, Gary, you explain the whole situation to this child."

Pastor Gary Goodbarrel, the young Halfling who had fed me before, said with a serious expression:

"A year ago, we set out from Green Field, thousands of miles away, constantly searching for this ruin.

The treasure point deep within the cave holds our Halfling holy relic.

We must bring it back to Green Field because only it can seal away a certain evil entity.

However, we underestimated the hardships of this journey.

Cough...

First, the Sirens and their subordinates killed most of our companions.

The tools originally intended to dig a side passage into the cave have also been lost.

These past few days, the Sirens have been lurking invisibly outside the cave entrance, and we just discovered that the beach outside is their nest.

We are trapped here; we will be attacked as soon as we go out.

And deeper inside the cave, there are deadly traps, and Flesh Golems patrol day and night.

In our current condition, it's hard to survive by just rushing in.

What's worse, we have all been afflicted by some curse of this place.

At the same time, these past few days, no matter how much I prayed, I couldn't sense any response from the gods.

This means I can no longer use any new divine spells, except for those I already had but haven't used yet.

Just today, I used my last divination spell.

The result of the prophecy is that we... will all die here.

Eve! Ry! One!"

Pastor Gary's expression grew increasingly despondent as he spoke; he slowly lowered his head, then suddenly lifted it.

A pair of bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at me, and his next words were cold and emotionless:

"Ex! Cept! You!

Ryan, everyone will die except you.

So... cough, cough... So, Ryan!

We have decided to use all our strength to ensure you survive.

You must swear that after I heal you, and after we risk our lives to retrieve the holy relic, you must help us take the holy relic out and deliver it to High Priest Evanhyde in Creek Valley Village.

There is a Youdala temple there..."

Alton, the hunter who could shoot magic arrows, placed a map in front of me.

The map clearly marked the location of Creek Valley Village.

Why did this map look so familiar? I stared at the map, somewhat dazed.

As Pastor Gary narrated, I gradually understood why this group of people was here.

And I, by chance, was saved by them, but also consequently got dragged into this trouble that originally belonged only to them.

"I swear? Are you so sure I can leave here alive and help you accomplish the rest?" I asked.

Mage Wizard Wedell forcefully struck his staff on the ground, his voice hoarse and sharp, saying loudly:

"You must swear by your soul, to your Elven God: Corellon Larethian."