The outpost at the edge of the Swamp Forest.
Compared to the storm and clamor brewing in the Gray Mist Lake's Underground City, this place was much more serene.
Bright sunlight spilled down, piercing through the sparse canopy and casting mottled, shifting spots of light on the soft, damp, dark earth.
THUMP THUMP THUMP...
A Slime sat limply on the edge of the unfinished low wall, earnestly waving an oak branch like a diligent little artisan, building the outpost's final wall.
Beside the outpost was a newly tilled flowerbed planted with daisies, wild lilies of the valley, a few clumps of unknown little purple star-like flowers, and the butterflies and bees drawn by their fragrance.
The flowerbed wasn't large, but it was vibrant with life, like a freshly washed, colorful velvet blanket laid upon the edge of the dark green forest.
At that moment, Arthur was kneeling on one knee by the flowerbed, carefully planting a pale blue flower before watering and fertilizing it.
