Lament of the Slave

Chapter 64: Chapter 64: Worries


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I tried, I really did. It still wasn’t enough. All it took was just one moment of distraction, a small hesitation, for my leg to end up in the maw of the mossbear. There it was torn by sharp teeth and crushed by massive jaws while I struggled screaming to break free from the beast’s grasp.

That I eventually managed to get mossbear to let go of my leg was of little use to me. My mobility, the only thing that kept me out of its tooth and claw reach, was gone. 

It wasn’t until too late that I realized my legs were what the beast was after, well aware of my advantage. And since I wasn’t a gymnast, or whoever it was who walked on their hands, without my legs, I had become easy prey to the beast, whose only defense was a flimsy shield and the ability to roll aside.

So how did the rest of it go? I wouldn’t even call it a fight and rather not talk about it. Too pathetic. I don’t even remember parts of it.

After a brief blackout caused by blood loss, I found myself lying on the ground covered in moss again. At least this time, I didn’t panic and see myself as fertilizer.

Instead, I took a breath, and for the first time during my stay on Eleaden, I looked up at its night sky. Even though surrounding trees limited the view, it was breathtaking. The sky was full of bright stars with two moons floating in it, the big one the color of sapphire with a hint of green, the smaller one violet. It was like I was looking at a painting or something I would normally only see in fantasy or sci-fi art, quite a difference from the night sky on Earth. Still, I missed it.

A tad sad that I had been denied this view during my confinement in the basement, and regretting not having looked up at the night sky sooner after I got out, I wondered why that was. What kept me from doing it?

I spent my first night of freedom in the company of an old merchant named Scoresby in the middle of the woods. In Castiana I worked in the brothel until the evening, and then I was either in the inn’s kitchen or holed up in my room without a thought of looking up at the night sky.

Now, thanks to the cloudless sky that showed me its beauty in full, I saw it was a mistake by which I deprived myself of an incredible spectacle. Clear skies and two moons were also the reason my concerns about fighting at night were unnecessary, as the clearing was bathed in more than enough moonlight.

This picturesque moment had only two flaws.

The first was the ongoing battle between an adult and the last of the men. Whether it was Shadowbreaker or mercenary, I couldn’t tell just by the noise of the fight and honestly didn’t care. The second flaw was my hunch that this idyll would end as soon as I was combat capable, forced to face the mossbear again.

I wasn’t so sure the three skill level-ups I got from my last beating were worth the pain and effort.

 

(ding) Painless Agony reaches lvl 12

...

(ding) Tireless Machine reaches lvl 14

...

(ding) Swift as a Whip reaches lvl 13

 

Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t be complaining. After all, in a few minutes, I got three skills to the next level. I just felt bitter about the defeat and tired. I was so exhausted that if I closed my eyes for one more moment, I’d fall asleep. The thought was so tempting I couldn’t get it out of my head. Just take a nap for a few minutes. What was wrong with that, right? Deckard or Esu would wake me up when they saw fit to torture me more.

So what kept me from closing my eyes? [When you feel tired, it is the best time to try harder and push your limits.] Looking at the description of [Tireless Machine], I had to admit that this was the best time to practice the skill. Well, I think I was pushing my limits pretty damn hard.

Also, the very first sentence in the description kept me from succumbing to fatigue, [Sleep is for the weak]. 

Sleep overcame me, anyway. At least that’s what I figured when I was awakened by the alarm sounding in my head. As I opened my eyes, my head spun, a headache hit me, and I whimper in displeasure. The main reason I tried to avoid such naps, they always made me feel worse. My body needed a good night’s sleep, not this kind of teasing.

So it wasn’t surprising that it took me a while to realize I wasn’t in my bed, that it wasn’t the alarm clock on the nightstand next to me, but a charred root. That it wasn’t an annoying alarm sound, but a system notification I heard?

Two of them, actually.

(ding) Never-Dying reaches lvl 30

(ding) Never-Dying reaches Tier III

“Finally,” I muttered, grinning. My first skill to reach this level since I got out of the basement.

Never-Dying: lvl 30

Passive II

Dying is not good for your health. Although you died several times, always coming back to life. The regeneration of your body is exceptional, and even death does not mean the end of the road for you. As long as the brain is not damaged, you can find a new way to die later.

II - To avoid further death, the regeneration of your body is further enhanced by 82%(50%->75%) and the constitution by 22%(10%->20%)

III - In some situations, it may matter how quickly you can get back on your feet. There’s nothing easier than boosting regeneration with a little bit of mana.

“Holy shit?” I gasped out loud in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” responded Deckard quickly to my grunt.

Grinning, I shook my head. “Just, skill tier-up.”

“Oh, I don’t get many of those anymore,” he sighed, basically complaining. “Enjoy it, kid. As you get stronger, tier-ups become rarer and rarer.”

He didn’t have to tell me that. I wasn’t a complete noob when it came to games. I played my share. Plus, thanks to the [Indomitable Will], I knew the next tier-up would come at level 60, then 100. Beyond that, I could only guess. Was it 150? It seemed most likely.

“Deckard, what’s the next skill tier-up after the one at level one hundred?” I asked instead of pondering it like I always did. There was no point in doing that when I had someone in front of me who was over level three hundred.

He looked puzzled for a brief moment. “You don't know...that’s basic. You had a really shitty master, kid. Anyway, it’s a one-fifty, then two-ten, two-eighty, then it should be three-sixty. I’ll tell you for sure when I get some of my skills there.”

That’s some confidence. I thought admiringly of how he had no doubt that one day he would achieve it. Or was it foolish? I didn’t think so. Without such confidence and determination, one could not reach the level of strength he has.

On the contrary, I thought it was stupid that I was celebrating reaching skill level thirty, while Deckard’s skills were almost ten times that. Of course, I couldn’t help thinking about whether I would be able to reach such levels one day, whether it would be enough to achieve my goals. 

“Have you ever met a Fae?” I asked, after toying with the idea for a while. “Would you be able to defeat it?”

“Where did that come from, kid?” He asked in amazement.

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I wiggled my ears in a shrug, as it was the only thing I could do while covered in moss. “One of them kidnapped me.”

Not really something I’d like to share, but he was the strongest person I’ve met so far. I needed to know if he’s already had the misfortune to meet them if he was capable of defeating them.

He looked at me for a moment, considering something, before he spoke again in my mind. “I’ve never met these little buggers.”

“Ah,” I sighed, somewhat disappointed, wondering how unlucky I must have been if a man like Deckard, living his whole life on Eleaden, fighting monsters and beasts every day, never met them.

“Rumor has it they’re masters of illusion and trickery. Better not to meet them. That they will bring misfortune and so on. That’s what the common folk say,” he said after a moment’s thought, and I found myself listening to him with my ears pricked up, hoping he knew something after all. “We both know that’s bullshit!”

We do? Startled, I wondered what he meant. 

“When you hear enough stories, tales, and rumors, you start connecting the dots, and I heard enough of them in the Army. You, girl, met one of these flying buggers. So you should know the best they’re not masters of illusions but space,” he told me the obvious. That they could travel between realms was something I knew from the very beginning. That’s how I got here in the first place.

Deckard, seeing my reaction, laughed. “Not so clueless after all, huh? Good, because if you want to confront something, it’s essential to know what you’re dealing with, that what you see before you is not an illusion but a distortion in space. That the little bugger doesn’t move damn fast but jumps in space from place to place.”

“Okay,” I nodded, my ears mimicking the movement. I wasn’t sure where he was going with it, though.

He took a breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I know too little about them to answer your question. You saw it, so what was the level of it? You don’t know, do you? Neither do I. Does it only wield spatial magic, or something else as well? It’s good to aim big, but also to know your limits, girl.”

He didn’t have to worry about that, I was all too aware of how weak I was. Hence my question about Fae. 

“I’m just wondering how big a gap I’d have to overcome before I wouldn’t have to worry about them kidnapping me again,” I grunted defensively, somewhat reluctantly sharing my fears.

Deckard was a bit taken aback that I confided in him, but then he got to thinking. “So you don’t have to worry, you say? You’d have to be stronger than me, much stronger.”

“But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” I argued, a little disheartened that even someone like him was wary of the Fae.

“Hardly the strongest that ever lived,” replied Deckard nodding to Esu. “There’s not much I could do but run away like Ward if I make one wrong move and piss the big guy off. Let alone think about attacking him. If you don’t want to be worried, you have to be strong enough to make your enemies think twice about attacking you.”

Not the answer I wanted to hear, but that didn’t make it any less true. As one of the weakest in the clearing, I had no urge to attack anyone but to get the hell out of here fast. 

I nodded, wondering if it was even possible to achieve that kind of power where I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

“Then, just let it go,” said Deckard, reading the language of my ears, but before I could react in any way, he continued. “I’m not saying forget everything that happened to you, just not to let it get to you. Think about it too much, worry too much, and you’ll become paranoid, a coward stuck in a shell you’re not willing to come out of.”

It was a bit of an odd comparison, and I couldn’t help but feel like he was speaking from his own experience. Or rather, he knew someone like that, or he wouldn’t have come here knowing he was going to face Esu.

Me? I certainly didn’t want to become a coward, but looking at the mossbear that had already wrecked me twice, I had to say it was damn hard. Or rather, being one was way easier.

“Then there’s the other side,” Deckard remarked thoughtfully.

I was expecting him to elaborate, but his silence made me ask, “Which is?”

“Revenge, girl,” he said, looking at me, yet his eyes were fixed on something only he could see. “The revenge you are thinking of is only the misery you are torturing yourself with, not your enemies. It may make you stronger, but it will inevitably change you,” he said, surprising me with the depth of his words, which oddly enough made sense to me. “Not my words, they weren’t even spoken to me, but I took them to heart.”

“Who told them to whom?” I asked the obvious question.

Deckard sighed and looked at the moons. “A man for whom I had great respect, to a woman who allowed herself to be bound by a promise, her past, and her grief.”

I guess I was expecting too much when I thought he was going to tell me specific names. However, I didn’t intend to probe further.

“All right, I’m not gonna let...I’ll do my best not to let my past drag me down,” I said, after considering his words unsure of whether I can really do it. 

He smiled. “Good! Looks like I didn’t waste my words on you. At least not completely. Now I need a drink,” he added, and a tankard of what looked like beer appeared in his hand. I strongly suspected that he didn’t just want to water his parched throat, but also to provoke me. That’s how I interpreted his smile when I licked my dry lips.

Not wanting to give in to his provocations, I turned my attention back to my body, to my skill, which I should have done earlier. To my surprise, I was almost healed. Either Esu’s skill was much better than I thought, or my conversation with Deckard was longer than I realized. Anyway, it didn’t give me much room to try boosting my regeneration.

As usual, the new tier-up didn’t come with a manual and controlling this part of the skill wasn’t as simple as an on and off switch. What I’m trying to say, certainly not to make excuses, is that Esu healed me before I could figure it out.

Oddly enough, even though I’ve eaten my fill before, I was hungry again. Whether the cause was the brief struggle or the treatment, I could not tell. Worse, the menu hadn’t changed, and the main course was still lettuce moss.

Yeah, I chewed, I tried to delay, to put off the inevitable, but it couldn’t go on forever, so eventually, I ended up facing the young mossbear again. This time with not enough mana to use the [Tail of Poison Empress], but enough to train my shield skill. 

So, aware that even the beast was learning and knew that my greatest weapon was my mobility, I went for round three.

And it was a good round. I mean, I lasted a long time, managed to land some good hits, draw blood and defend myself. The ten percent damage transferred from the magic shield to my body didn’t seem to be a problem for my regeneration. Quite convenient, although the truth was that [Master’s Shield] was a level 10 skill. There was a limit to the amount of damage it could withstand, therefore transfer, before it shattered and I had to dodge the attack. [Never-Dying], on the other hand, was a level 30 skill now. 

The end of round three was bloody, painful, and a little lame.

Seriously. I didn’t expect there to be a hole hidden under the branches, leaves, and ashes. Who the hell digs holes in the woods? Of course, I thought of Tate, but I figured it had to be a burrow after careful consideration. Anyway, When my foot fell into it, it was too late for me. Now, yet again covered in moss, I could only lament the fact that I should have seen it in my domain sooner and reacted faster.

Well, it doesn’t matter how many mistakes you make, as long as you learn from them, right? At least, that’s what my mom used to tell me when I came home crying. And I felt like crying now. To distract myself, I tried to reflect on my mistakes.

So far, I’ve learned that the fight wasn’t just about hack and slash. It was about being aware of my surroundings, knowing my opponent, and most importantly, my body and skills like [Never-Dying] and its last tier-up, which was giving me a headache.

How was I supposed to send mana to something intangible to me, that I had no idea where it was, where the source of it was. Did the regeneration have any source at all? It took me a while to realize I was approaching this the wrong way, that right now, I was being healed in the way I was seeking to learn. Esu was giving my regeneration a little push. He told me so himself. So there was nothing easier than to copy what the moss was doing.

Okay, It wasn’t that easy, but I managed to do it and was able to watch with a mixture of disgust and delight as my bones snapped back together, my flesh healed right before my eyes...well, domain. The speed at which I regenerated was simply breathtaking.

Yet, my success was overshadowed by the realization that not only did I heal faster, but that I would be combat-ready sooner too. Something I hadn’t quite thought through.

Thus, I found myself in my own personal hell feeling like Sisyphos. Only instead of an immense boulder, I had a massive mossbear in front of me, which however I hurt, was healed in the next round. Like the man, I couldn’t run, I couldn’t even die condemned to this fate for eternity.

Yeah, I was pretty bitter before my soon-to-be fourth beating.

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