Chapter 38: Arc 3 – Chapter 1: Lonely Road

Ca... us...

 

... Hmm?

 

Yo... ust... h... ry...

 

Ugh... urgh...

 

... ime... s... r... ning... ou...

 

"Hrrrrg... gaaAAH!!"

 

*pant* *pant* What... was... that?

 

Ugh... my head hurts and my body feels a bit numb for some reason... hm? Looks like I spooked everyone else. I signaled those around me that I was fine.

But still... what a weird dream... kinda reminds me of the times I've had those "sleep paralysis" situations back in my old life...

 

Sigh…

 

Anyways, I decided to lay back on the wagon's floor once more while staring at the daytime sky. It’s been about a week since I’ve left Orgo, but without Ellen, Glenn, and the rest… I realized how boring it was.

I also can’t seem to get them out of my mind, especially Ellen. Oh how I miss her touch, being in her arms, and being between her thighs already.

Before I left, I asked for a lock of her hair. I placed it in a pendant that turns it into a medium that would allow me to know her condition and find her in the future. I keep sniffing it every now and then, but I never knew I was the type who easily becomes an emotional wreck from missing his woman. Ugh.

The start of this new trip seemed promising, but it is much much slower when compared to when I was flying before. Worse still, after some time on the road, Fenril started complaining that why did he have to walk as I rode him when there was enough room in the wagon for both of us to lie down as we travel. He also kept getting sidetracked by a lot of things as well as constantly asking for food… what are you, a kid? … oh wait, he is…

Seriously… the point of us riding outside is so that bandits, among other things, won’t get any ideas about raiding the caravan, but Kholdrum didn’t mind it saying that I’ve already cleared out most of the threat of bandits anyway. I was basically here for the minimal chance of the unexpected happening, like stupid monsters who don't sense Fenril's or my presence.

We took a long scenic route for gathering some products and supplies, so I understand why the trip's so long, but other than lying in the back of the wagon while facing the sky all day, there wasn’t much else to do.

Sure there was my portable forge and alchemical lab, but I’ve done most of the replenishment and maintenance in a matter of two days, so other than gathering ingredients, shit got old really fast. Without having an expert Alchemist or Blacksmith to guide me further, there’s no point to continuing my craft.

I also talked to Kholdrum and the merchants for a time, but other than business and the ways of a merchant, there wasn’t much variety to their discussions. No way I want to try becoming a salesman again.

As I had the luxury of time, I decided to think about my old life. Thinking back, I remember a lot of games I used to play on my handheld, laptop, and consoles, as well as looking at my devices to read digital books and other works, listening to music, and watching videos, but for some strange reason… I can never remember their titles or the exact names of anything and everything back in that world… save except for some countries and the world’s name maybe? Other than those, I've pretty much forgotten all the names and titles in my previous world.

I could invent card games or such like those in the books, but unlike those guys in the novels I’ve read, I don’t have something as convenient as eidetic memory for remembering rules and details or powers that can immediately make stuff. Also, I’d rather not just grab some pieces of paper and start drawing on it to create makeshift cards.

While magic here relies on imagination or a clear image, I still need to understand most of the process of how certain things work if I want it to be efficient. I mean, I do have synthesizing magic, but making stuff like back in my old world requires a lot of knowledge of important details with regards to chemicals, physics, and other stuff in nature.

I wasn’t really a well-learned individual with a degree in anything, I had no talents to speak of, and I even had a lousy job as a customer service agent. Other than having learned the art of apologizing in a manner of ways and cooking for myself, I’m not sure how my experiences could actually help me, let alone with my magic.

Seriously, even my gun that took probably 3 years to make couldn’t actually be called a gun. A lot of its mechanisms and components were swapped out and replaced by enchantments using magic as well as stuff that I can only barely imagine.

It’s heavily reliant on mana to fire, and there’s still the odd chance of it exploding in my hands. In essence, you could call this thing a failed artifact, but the fact it works in the way I want already makes it a success in my eyes. As I was thinking about it, I decided to tinker with it a bit more to pass the time.

 

“Hmm? Interesting trinket you have there, Sir Camus. It looks quite similar to something my brethren have made.”

 

It seems Kholdrum took notice of my gun. Similar to something the dwarves made? Although, I’m surprised to hear about guns existing, I soon calmed down when I realized that I’m dealing with dwarves. Who other than them are as widely known as artisans in fantasy?

 

“You know about guns?”

“Guns? Is that what you call this? Us dwarves call a similar-looking weapon such as this, Hand Cannons or Boomsticks. And being a dwarf meself, it shouldn’t come to you as a surprise for knowing about crafted arms. May I have a look?”

 

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I handed my gun to Kholdrum. I’d have hesitated if it was a normal gun, but it couldn’t fire without incredible amounts of mana and it's not even loaded, so it’s fine. Seeing the expressions on Kholdrums face, he must have seen something incredible in the way I made it.

 

“So… how is it? Any good?”

“…hmm… you said you made this yerself, right?”

“That’s right.”

 

He paused again and after some time, he gave the gun back to me.

 

“Well… to be blunt… it’s garbage.”

 

Ugh… that’s harsh. I knew it wasn’t made right, but I didn’t think it was THAT bad.

 

“I can see yer' upset, umm… us dwarves can be very blunt and it’s hard to get out of the habit sometimes. Especially when it concerns our kind’s specialties… I hope you don’t take offense.”

“No… it’s fine, but… why the harsh evaluation?”

“Well… other than the fact it requires a huge consumption of mana to activate, which I’ve already taken into consideration with yer’ constitution… the enchantments are a shoddy patchwork, the components inside looked like they were haphazardly molded like clay by a kid, the chamber’s all…”

 

'Gaaaaaah! Stoooooop! I get it! I get it! So please, stooooop!'

Faced with this depressing situation, I was forced to listen to Kholdrum's harsh criticism of my work for more than 5 minutes...

 

“… so in conclusion... I’m afraid I can only call it garbage. However, I remember you tellin' me that you never did learn advanced armscraft from your pop. The fact yer’ able to make this ‘gun’ without prior knowledge on the inner works of such a device is a feat in itself. I believe, if yer’ able to apprentice yerself to an Armsmith of repute, you’ll be able to make yerself a fine weapon. If you’d like, I can refer you to several acquaintances of mine in Korvstaag.”

 

Ugh… my ears are in pain but I think I heard something good despite all that… become an apprentice was it?

 

“… I’ll think about it if I ever have the chance to go there. If a time comes, I’ll look for you then.”

“Hohoho! You’ll love Korvstaag if you’re a craftsman! It’s the heart of all artisan classes in the continent! I’ll be sure to help you then should you require it.”

 

I smiled and nodded to him in response. The day passed leisurely for a time, but just before lunch, I suddenly heard Fenril’s warning howl from beyond the road.

 

[My King, we have trouble. Warn the others and get ready for battle.]

[Fenril, what is it?]

[Those ones you call ‘bandits.’ They’re great in number and attacking another ‘caravan’ like this one we’re with. Also…]

[Also?]

[These bandits somehow… move like wolves… coordinated… cunning… and fast.]

 

Coordinated like wolves? They definitely don’t sound like bandits. Well, at least not like the ones I’m used to.

If they’re much more coordinated than regular bandits, then I can only think of two scenarios…

They can’t be soldiers from an enemy nation since we aren’t even close to any other territory, so they’re either a well-trained force that went rogue… or a bunch of killers for hire on a kill mission.

Whichever it is, I warned the caravan and prepared myself for a bloodbath.

I’m bored, cranky because no Ellen, and just got my prided work insulted… so to these bastards...

Please happily accept my frustrations!

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