LXIX

After a few hours of moving through this misery, my cold resistance skill is re-obtained. A few hours of misery, in exchange for lesser cold resistance level 1. I need nobody to tell me that my proficiencies are gone, I can see that clearly here. One night of walking through the desert upon first being brought into this world, and my gains were many times greater than this. Not two or three times greater, either, more like twenty or thirty.

[So Lector obtained my proficiencies as well, eh? He really made off like a bandit, that scum did, taking even those from me. If he had so desired, he could have utilized me to farm skills for him, but his desire for me to die is so great that he decided against it, to cripple me instead. If I had to guess, he left me with not even a single proficiency, placing me in a position with worse prospects than even your average inhabitant of this world. Even they get help from the world towards leveling certain skills, while I get nothing. I had considered my overpowered proficiencies to be some bribery on the part of the world, a foolish method to gain my approval, but it seems that even that is not the case. No, instead it was a cruel game this world played with me, teasing a path to great power before snatching it away, taking my acquired power, and shuffling me over to the long road to power.

[Fine. If this world is to openly scheme against me, then I shall beat it at its own game. The world is determined to see my failure, how fitting would it be to exploit it to the greatest possible degree in order to obtain the power to destroy it altogether? I shall overcome this world's schemes, and provide the divine punishment of which it is so deserving!]

As the hours continue to pass by, my exhaustion grows more and more, as does my desire to eat. However, to sleep here would be to invite the creatures of the forest to feast on my flesh and the maggots of the earth to gorge on my eyes, and as for eating, well, I have no food and this forest is fully inedible.

[Ah well. My body is in good physical condition, at least. A couple of days of heavy exertion without food or rest, how bad could it be? At least I can literally swallow this fog for water, that shouldn't be an issue.

[The bigger issue is that there is no way that I will make it there before the demon does… assuming Lector is telling the truth. It is very possible that he just wanted me to lose to despair and die faster during my return when I realized I would be far too late. Alternatively, perhaps he just was messing with me. No matter how I think of it, there was no real reason for him to let me ask him questions, the only answer is that he wanted the magnitude of what was happening to sink in before he stole my powers. Though there is not much evidence as to that being the case, if it is, that shows how depraved and monstrous that scum truly is.

[Actually, I wouldn't be particularly surprised. He seemed to take a rather sick pleasure in describing what he would do to me, wanting to see my rage at knowing I was to be stolen from and could do nothing about it. Gah! What scum! And he also said that he would have tortured me for information if he could, without a second thought!

[Though I have had few interactions that I would regret the manner in which I carried myself during, and none with Lector, that does not change the fact that I could only be called a fool for not suspecting such a side of Lector. Lector is a master of sorcery; as soon as I saw that, I should have immediately been suspicious. Sorcerers are known for being evil for a reason, why should Lector be any different? Though, to be fair, I only found out that he was a sorcerer a few hours before our departure, when he applied those slave bonds. Hard to believe that that was less than a week ago…

[Less than a week! My, time does crawl sometimes. In less than a week, I crossed a giant field, walked through a foggy forest, and somehow lost all my powers along the way. At least enough activities for a few years, I would think…

[Gah! Stupid bugs! Leave me alone, go bite Lector's twisted tongue or something!]

I continue my endless trudging through the muck down an alley of trees and fog, fending off an endless barrage of bugs, for hour after hour. I can't help but feel as though I am making little progress. However, from the upward slope of the path, I am able to ensure that I don't somehow get myself turned around. The narrowness of the trail and the pseudo-walls lining it also help me keep straight, by providing something to bump into when I start going off course.

[How big is this stupid forest, anyway?] Judging time is rather difficult when you can't see, but my internal clock is quite well developed from all that time I once spent counting sheep in the void while trying unsuccessfully to trick my mind into falling asleep or fading away. From this, I determine that I have been traveling for well over a day. My entire body is extremely sore from the exertion, and my hunger is quite immense. Even those nasty brain things would be a good snack right now, I am so hungry.

It is not just my physical body, either. I keep my energy level at a state of constant magical exhaustion as a result of casting spells whenever I feel that I can do so without falling unconscious.

While my slow progress is infuriating, this time is still spent quite well in the grand scheme of my aims. Training cold resistance, hunger resistance, general resistance, venom resistance, sleep resistance, magical exhaustion resistance, strength, speed, magic sensory, and elemental manipulation all at once, I certainly can't be accused of squandering time. Still, the rate at which my skills level up is downright pitiful when one considers that they are at low levels and are currently leveling the fastest that they ever will. When I had first entered this world, during my first days in it, skills and levels seemed to be falling out of the sky like balls of fire. I hadn't realized then how truly abnormal such a thing was, how much normal people have to work to achieve results in this world.

I am abruptly reminded of something, of making jabs at the nobles under Lector's tutelage for their slow speed of growth. I understood, at least in theory, that they had a far harder time at it than I, but I didn't truly understand how difficult it would be.

[Oh well, there isn't anything I can do about it. I will just have to try even harder than before, and even harder still. Thankfully, I have the experience of performing many of the more technical elemental manipulation techniques, once I obtain enough power I will be able to use them right away. Mana shaping and multicasting, for example, will be much easier than before because I already know the methodology for each, once I have the minimal power amount, I will be able to undertake them immediately. That will actually save quite a large amount of time over someone having to learn from scratch, at least I have this advantage as compared to a theoretical self whose journey began here and now in this world. And let's not forget, my wrath skill is at the higher grandmaster levels, for at least this one element, I am likely one of the strongest users in the world. While I have yet to really utilize it, I have been stockpiling power for months, I am sure that it will come in handy if I get into any tight situations. While not an asset I know how to use, let's not make the mistake of not recognizing it as the potential asset that it is. Now, if only my master-level madness could be of more use to me…

[Whatever the case, I am certain that my progress shall still be faster than that of my theoretically self starting out at this point, and as such my previous three months haven't been totally wasted. So long as I count them as time spent learning about this world and improving at both swordsmanship and reading, as well as learning the theories and application of magic, the time was still quite well spent. Of course, I will never forgive Lector for taking my progress and my quick method of obtaining it, but at least my time hasn't been truly wasted. So long I can get this name removed, and survive my journey through these wild lands, I am rather confident in my survival. And so long as I can survive, I shall grow in power. And so long as I grow in power, I shall have my revenge on this world.]

I continue pushing up the hill, weighed down by muck with every one of my hasty steps. Though I am taking this as an opportunity to train, let it not be thought that I am sparing any haste in my journey to my comrades. Whatever warnings Lector may have given about returning to the military, the fact remains that Reinhart is one of the few people that I actually like in this world. I could not imagine giving up a potential opportunity to save him in exchange for slightly higher personal safety and a more leisurely journey through the forest.

Some may consider such behavior noble, perhaps even righteous, and they would be wrong. They would argue that taking on personal hardship for the benefit of another is selflessness, thus disproving my earlier argument; again they would be wrong.

My care for Reinhart comes from the fact that I rather like him and feel good about the idea of saving him, as opposed to feeling guilty with allowing him to die. In pursuit of that good feeling, as opposed to any desire to actually help someone, I am willing to take on some risk. I am making a tradeoff between two good things, and in the end I will go with the one that I perceive as benefitting more. And, in this case, I have determined that the benefit of saving Reinhart outweighs the potential drawback.

Perhaps this is a stupid decision on my part, as a choice it hinders my first goal and does not aid my second. However, I can only respond by saying that perhaps this is my weakness. All heroes seem to have one, and even people in general, and for a great many people, their greatest weakness is their illogical care for others and the immense perceived benefit from helping them at the detriment to one's own goals. Still an informed tradeoff, but a tradeoff between the benefit of progressing oneself and the benefit of feeling good over progressing another. A silly, foolish, tradeoff to make, but one compelling humans with seemingly no relent.

Whatever the case, the fact is that I have a temporary goal, just a step below the ultimate end of my survival goal (goal 1) and that is to get to my comrades as soon as possible, to inform them of the approaching threat. If Lector was lying about the threat in its entirety, then so be it; I would rather be called a fool for believing even that than the demon actually be targeting us. If Lector was off on time, I may still get back in time to warn them. If Lector was being truthful however… well, let's just hope that the demon was weaker than Lector built him up to be.

"Stupid bugs!" I cry out, swatting away whatever creature that had just landed its greedy from upon my face, surely intent to suck my blood or eat my flesh or something.

Determining my face to be uncovered, I crack open my eyes a little bit. To my surprise, when I hold my hand an inch from my face, I am able to see it clearly. The mud is only up to my knees now, and by holding out my arms, I can feel that the trees are a bit more spread out. Realizing that I am starting to get somewhat close, I start to run.

Or try to, anyway. My legs stick in the mud like tar when I try to remove them fast, my measly strength sufficient barely even for pulling them out slowly. Perhaps I could run now, if I was in peak physical condition. But with no endurance or sleep resistance potions, and no food or rest besides, I am thoroughly exhausted. By my estimation, I have been persisting in this strenuous walk for well over a day, I am well and truly out of things to think over. I am striving with my all towards my destination, towards being able to warn my only remaining comrade in this world, but I cannot make the progress.

I imagine Reinhart, dead, joining Jorgenson and Lector in the list of my allies who left me. Perhaps Reinhart is not nearly as good a person as Jorgenson, but really, who cares. He has been good to me, and I quite enjoyed sparring with him, by my own morality as I determine it, he has passed with flying colors.

If he were dead, I would feel quite bad about it. And to avoid such a feeling, and to ensure a higher chance of good experiences with him in the future, I must save him!

And so, that thought kept firmly in mind, I push forward. And forward. And forward. I have never been one to quit, to give up. If I have established a goal, I will do my best to accomplish it. And, anything short of dying, I am willing to give my all towards saving my sparring partner.