Curious, you ask the elder demon about what he thinks you should offer to the hermit.

Elder demon: "There is no single answer to that question. A cook should offer his best meal; a farmer, his best crop; a weaver, his best cloth."

As an adventurer, you realize that you usually deal in services rather than goods. You ask if he believes knowledge would do.

Elder demon: "Hrm... I must advise you against it; the hermit is a seeker of knowledge, and likely knows more than you ever will."

You nod, and figure that you'll have to come up with something. For now, you thank the elder demon for his counsel, and bid him farewell, before taking off southward once more, compass in hoof.

As the small village shrinks behind you, you can't help but wonder why Tsu-Ko was so reluctant to help the demons. After all, they have been nothing but helpful on your journey so far. In response, the invisible sprite's voice echoes in your mind.

Tsu-Ko: "You'd think that, but you've seen firsthoof the mess they made of the river. And as always, it fell to someone else to clean it up."

Honourshine: "Forgive me, but... how did tossing weeds in a river cause it to flood?"

Tsu-Ko: "That river flows into Ishi-Desujo, or the Forest of Stone as you call it. Any plant matter that enters the place is petrified in mere moments, so the weeds turned to stone and formed a blockage.

There's a reason why it's strictly forbidden to throw anything in that river. But out of sight, out of mind is how those cretins think — as if their lives didn't depend on the very land they sully."

Moonflower: "Ohh. Maybe they can learn to be more careful!"

Tsu-Ko: "If they haven't learned a thing over the past centuries, they aren't going to start now. Demons are destructive by nature; they don't belong in the Overworld, plain and simple."

You like to think that ponies can change, but truth be told, you are only well versed in the affairs of mortals. For now, you choose to remain cautiously optimistic. The demons you've met were more polite than the Dwarf, at the very least.

You fly straight ahead for a few more minutes until finally, something on the horizon catches your attention: a lone oak tree sitting at the very top of a wide grassy hill. You put your compass away, and land under the distinctive tree's susurring leaves.

Following Quin Ataraxis's directions still, you look further to the south where you are told the hermit's house should be found. However, you find no such house — only empty windswept meadows as far as the eye can see. Confused, you try taking a peek through your lens of honesty... but nothing happens.