As Xia Lun had anticipated, Joli effortlessly intercepted Liyana's arrow. Having fought Joli before, Xia Lun knew exactly how formidable he was.
Liyana’s true strength—when she got serious—was nearly on par with Wolund’s, roughly 0.9 times his level. In a life-or-death struggle, her odds of winning might even be higher. But compared to Joli, the gap was still considerable.
"We’re here to drag you back, you brat!"
Liyana was visibly annoyed that her attack had been brushed off so casually. Her fierce glare made Joli shrink back instinctively. Though he didn’t understand why she was angry, he always felt like a junior in her presence.
Then it dawned on him.
The Forest of Libya was far from here—not a journey that could be completed in just a few days. That meant… until then, he’d be traveling with Xia Lun and the others on their adventure.
Traveling with such seasoned adventurers was a rare opportunity, one that would surely broaden his horizons. The thought suddenly excited him.
"Aunt Liyana, when do we leave?"
Liyana was taken aback. She had expected resistance—excuses, maybe even an attempt to flee. She’d even planned to have Xia Lun rough him up a bit. But to her surprise, the kid was oddly cooperative.
"Uh… maybe pack your things first?" she said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"R-right! I’ll go back to my place and get ready. I’ll be quick!"
Joli dashed off, but not before glancing back at Xia Lun and the others, as if making sure they wouldn’t disappear.
Liyana scratched her head. His reaction was nothing like she’d imagined. Just earlier, he’d seemed utterly reluctant to return to the Forest of Libya.
"Um… Xia Lun, Aina, sorry for suddenly dragging him along," Liyana said sheepishly.
"It’s just a short stretch of the journey. No trouble at all," Aina replied with a gentle shake of her head.
"Heh…" Liyana grinned, though her thoughts were unclear.
Soon, Joli returned, lugging an enormous bundle.
The burden was absurdly large—hard to imagine how much stuff he’d packed. From a distance, he looked like a giant snail. Despite its obvious weight, Joli carried it effortlessly, proving his decent physical foundation.
Liyana sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"Joli! What is all this?!" she demanded.
"It’s… my luggage," Joli replied nervously, sensing her displeasure.
Liyana: "Why so much?"
"I don’t have a spatial ring yet…" Joli stiffened like a scolded child, rooted to the spot.
Liyana: "Open it. Let’s see."
Joli shrank back. "Now? Here? I spent forever packing it…"
Liyana: "Put it down!"
Her authority over him was absolute. Without protest, Joli obeyed.
The package clattered to the ground, spilling its contents.
First came a few plain outfits, identical to what Joli wore—nothing noteworthy. Then came an assortment of mundane items: pots, pans, toiletries—everything one might need for daily life.
Even Xia Lun and Aina were stunned. It looked like a portable general store.
Liyana wanted to criticize, but… everything seemed practical.
After all, their own supplies were top-tier, far more extensive than Joli’s. She had no room to judge.
"You plan to travel with us like this?" Liyana shot her nephew a withering look. "Don’t you think it’s inconvenient?"
"I… I think it’s fine," Joli muttered, voice shrinking.
"Fine? With this monstrosity, you’ll get snagged on branches the second we enter the woods!" she scolded. "How are you supposed to move nimbly with all this weight?"
Aina chuckled softly, then flicked a shimmering light into Joli’s palm.
He blinked. A spatial ring now rested in his hand.
"Here. A gift," Aina said softly, leaning against Xia Lun.
"Miss Aina… this is too much," Joli flushed.
Spatial rings weren’t common. Only seasoned adventurers could afford them.
"It’s nothing. We’re Liyana’s teammates, and you’re her junior. Consider it a welcome present," Aina said, eyeing the sprawl of luggage. "Unless you really want to haul all that? The carriage won’t fit it."
"Thank you, Miss Aina," Joli said, outwardly composed but already fidgeting with the ring.
Liyana watched his excitement and sighed inwardly.
This kid… he and Mo Lini would get along.
Though Joli had left home long ago and was no youngling by elven standards, he’d spent most of his time holed up in the countryside honing his swordsmanship—never truly venturing into the world.
To Liyana, he seemed like a fresh college grad: bright-eyed, naive, and ripe for exploitation.
Mo Lini, while equally innocent, had a sharp sense of danger. She knew how to leverage her strengths to survive—evading Twilight Apostles and seeking refuge in Olifant.
When they’d first met in Olifant, the little red beast had immediately plotted her escape.
"Hello, Mr. Joli," Mo Lini greeted, the slime atop her head bobbing.
"Hello, Miss Mo Lini," Joli replied, still crouched as he stuffed his belongings into the ring.
Soon, the clutter vanished.
Only the iron sword remained, sheathed at his hip.
Now polished to a shine, free of rust, and fitted with a leather scabbard, it was at least no longer mistaken for scrap metal.
Xia Lun had said Joli was strong.
Mo Lini blinked. She couldn’t see it at all.