The End of the First Day in Jungoria Part 2

As the final dishes were cleared from the table and the ambiance settled into a comfortable post-meal lull, Alicia's barely contained curiosity became increasingly apparent.

Her eyes darted towards me several times, a clear indication that she was wrestling with a question or an idea that demanded attention.

Sensing the opportune moment to address it, I prompted her, "Alicia, it seems like there's something on your mind. What's your question?"

The table grew quiet, everyone's attention now focused on Alicia, who took a deep breath before sharing her discovery.

"Well, in the compendium, I came across a recipe for what's described as a Common Grade Elixir that's supposed to enhance human physiques. It lists several Rank 1 herbs and fauna as ingredients," she explained, her enthusiasm tinged with a hint of confusion.

"Some of the ingredients sound familiar, but I'm lost on the whole 'Rank' distinction. What does that mean exactly?"

Realizing the significance of her question and the broader implications it held for our understanding of the new world order, I paused to gather my thoughts.

This was more than just a query about alchemy; it was a doorway to a much larger conversation about the changes our world was undergoing.

"Great question, Alicia," I began, my tone reflecting the gravity of the subject.

"The 'Rank' system you're referring to is part of how the new world categorizes the potency and rarity of everything from ingredients to creatures and even humans, post-apocalypse. It's a way to gauge the strength, effectiveness, and value of various elements within this changed reality."

Recognizing the importance of everyone understanding the new world's ranking system, I decided to lay out the information in a clear, concise manner.

This was crucial knowledge that would underpin many of our future decisions and strategies.

"Alright, let's break this down," I started, ensuring I had everyone's attention.

"The ranking system is essentially a way to categorize the strength, rarity, and potential of almost everything in this post-apocalyptic world. This includes not just the creatures we might encounter but also skills, weapons, artefacts, and even the ingredients Alicia mentioned."

I continued, detailing the ranks and grades as they applied across different stages of the apocalypse:

**Stage 1:**

- **Rank 1:** This is where everything starts. Humans, creatures, items, and skills are all considered Rank 1 at this point.

The maximum stats for humans and creatures cap at 100. For items and skills, this is considered the 'Common' grade.

**Stage 2:**

- **Rank 2:** Achieved when humans or creatures surpass the initial stat cap of 100, moving up to a max of 200. Items and skills can evolve into 'Uncommon' grade here.

- **Rank 3:** Here, the cap increases to 300. Creatures must have a 'Rare' grade bloodline to reach this rank, and items and skills can also reach 'Rare' grade.

**Stage 3:**

- **Rank 4 to 6:** These ranks introduce higher caps for stats, with Rank 4 capping at 400, Rank 5 at 500, and Rank 6 at 600.

The creatures, now referred to as Akura, need increasingly purer bloodlines to advance: 'Epic' for Rank 4, 'Legendary' for Rank 5, and 'Mythical' for Rank 6.

Items and skills also follow this progression, with corresponding grades from Epic to Mythical.

**Stage 4:**

- **Rank 7 to 10:** This is where things escalate further.

The stat caps continue to increase by 100 for each rank, leading up to Rank 10, which caps at 999.

The Akura need 'Ancient' grade bloodlines to reach Rank 7, with higher, unnamed grades required for subsequent ranks.

Items and skills can attain grades beyond Mythical, with 'Ancient' being one of them.

"As for the elixir recipe Alicia found," I concluded, "it falls into the Common grade for now, as it uses Rank 1 ingredients. But as we progress, and as the world around us evolves, we'll encounter and potentially create items and concoctions of much higher ranks and grades."

The information seemed to sink in, and I could see the wheels turning in everyone's heads as they began to grasp the vastness of the world we were now a part of.

This knowledge wasn't just academic; it was vital for our survival and growth.

Understanding the ranking system would enable us to make informed decisions, whether it involved crafting elixirs, choosing our battles, or planning our future in this unpredictable new world.

Alicia's grasp of the situation was quick, and her suggestion to utilize the elixir to enhance everyone's physique was both timely and astute.

"So, since we're still in Stage 1, we could actually make these elixirs to boost our physiques, right?" she asked, her eyes alight with the possibility of strengthening not just herself but all of us.

I nodded, pleased with her initiative.

"Yes, that's definitely possible. The elixir recipe you found could be a game-changer for us at this early stage. However," I added, ensuring I had their full attention, "before we go down that route, it's crucial that everyone has a solid grasp of the basics—how to move, balance, and control your bodies. An enhanced physique without the skill to control it could lead to unintended consequences."

The group nodded in understanding, the importance of foundational skills resonating with them as much as the prospect of enhanced abilities.

"Once we're all comfortable with our basic physical capabilities, I'll make a point of collecting the necessary ingredients while out hunting," I continued, already mentally cataloguing the herbs and fauna mentioned in the elixir recipe.

Alicia's enthusiasm was infectious, and the group's morale seemed to lift at the prospect of tangible improvements to their physical capabilities.

"I'll dive deeper into the compendium then," Alicia declared, determined to contribute further by understanding more about the elixir and possibly uncovering other beneficial concoctions.

The conversation shifted towards a more strategic discussion on how best to implement our training and enhancement plans.

It was clear that the path ahead would require careful planning and preparation, but the potential rewards made it an exciting prospect.

As the evening settled in and the group dispersed, the Levy family—Gerry, Angie, and their daughter Sophie—headed off to their personal abode within the compound, a cosy setup that had quickly become their sanctuary within our larger sanctuary.

Alicia, too, excused herself, retreating to her room to unwind from the day's activities, perhaps to reflect on the day's learning or simply to enjoy a moment of solitude.

Left in the quiet of the main house, I turned my attention to Emelia, who had been patiently waiting for me.

Despite the day's exhaustive training and the extensive discussions over dinner, there was still one important task left for me: helping Emelia with her mathematics homework.

It was a small but significant part of our routine, a reminder of the normalcy we strove to maintain amidst the chaos of our new reality.

Emelia, with her workbook open and pencil in hand, looked up at me with a mixture of anticipation and slight apprehension.

Mathematics wasn't her strongest subject, but her determination to improve was palpable.

I pulled up a chair beside her, ready to guide her through the problems that had been giving her trouble.

"Alright, baby legs, let's tackle these math problems together," I said, adopting a light-hearted tone to ease any lingering tension.

Emelia's nickname, a term of endearment from a time that now seemed like a distant memory, brought a smile to her face, and the apprehension in her eyes gave way to resolve.

We started with the basics, reviewing concepts and techniques that would help her understand the more complex problems.

I took care to explain each step clearly, breaking down the problems into manageable parts, and encouraging her to ask questions whenever she felt unsure.

Gradually, the pieces began to fall into place for her, each solved problem boosting her confidence.

The quiet of the evening was punctuated only by the soft scratching of pencils and the occasional question from Emelia.

These moments, simple and mundane as they might seem, were a precious reminder of the life we were fighting to protect and preserve.

It wasn't just about surviving the apocalypse; it was about ensuring that Emelia, and all of us, had the chance to grow, learn, and find happiness in the midst of it all.

As we worked through the last of the problems, Emelia's sense of achievement was evident.

The frustration that had initially clouded her expression was now replaced by a proud smile, a testament to her hard work and perseverance.

Closing the workbook, I ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Great job today, Em. I knew you could do it."

With the mathematics homework conquered, we both felt a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but every victory counted.

As Emelia prepared for bed, I remained by her side, grateful for these moments of normalcy and the unwavering spirit of this little family we had formed.

In a world turned upside down, these were the moments that reminded us of what we were fighting for.

As the movie about the courageous baby lion unfolded on the screen, Emelia and I were swept up in the tale of adventure, bravery, and the quest for justice.

Her emotions mirrored the highs and lows of the story, and when the moment came—the tragic death of the cub's father—her tears were a testament to her tender heart.

I pulled her closer, offering comfort and a gentle reminder that in every story, challenges pave the way for growth and eventual triumph.

Once the movie ended, with the baby lion reclaiming his rightful place and restoring harmony, Emelia's spirits had lifted, inspired by the resilience and courage displayed by the characters.

It was time for bed, and as we made our way to her room, I could feel the weight of her eyelids growing heavier with each step, the day's adventures and the movie's escapades slowly giving way to the call of sleep.

Tucking Emelia into bed, I made sure her favourite nebula night light was on, casting a soft, starry glow across the room, transforming it into a peaceful galaxy for her to gaze upon as she drifted off to sleep.

Leaning down, I planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, a silent promise of safety and love.

"Sweet dreams, baby legs," I whispered, my voice soft in the tranquil room.

"May your dreams be filled with adventures as grand as the ones we watched tonight, and remember, no matter what, you're braver than you believe."

Pulling the door almost closed, leaving just a sliver open to let in a bit of light from the hallway, I stepped out, feeling a profound sense of peace.

In these quiet moments, the world outside, with all its uncertainties and dangers, seemed distant.

Here, in the gentle glow of the nebula light, watching over Emelia as she succumbed to sleep, I was reminded of the purity and innocence that we were fighting to protect.

It was a responsibility I bore willingly, a beacon of hope in the enveloping darkness of the apocalypse.

After getting washed and ready for bed, I adorned my silk robe, entering the confines of my quilt.

I stared at the ceiling, both feel comfort and a longing for the future. Lost in my thoughts I was oblivious to the creaking of floorboards beyond my room.

As the door creaked open and the silhouette of Alicia appeared, framed by the dim light from the hallway, a sense of calm washed over me.

Her presence, marked by the gentle rustle of her silk robe, brought a different kind of warmth to the room.

The smile I offered was one of welcome, an unspoken invitation to share in the quiet of the evening.

Alicia, with a grace that seemed to fill the space between us, closed the door gently behind her, sealing us away from the rest of the world.

The soft click of the latch was like a punctuation, a momentary pause before the continuation of our shared story.

The room, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, held a tranquillity that the chaos of the outside world couldn't breach.

It was in these moments, these pauses between the demands of survival and leadership, that we found our sanctuary.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, my voice low, infused with an understanding that sleep, while necessary, was often elusive, especially in these times of upheaval.

Alicia's response, a soft nod accompanied by a small smile, spoke volumes.

It wasn't just the lack of sleep that brought her here but a need for connection, a silent acknowledgment that in this world of constant vigilance and uncertainty, moments of genuine human interaction were precious.

As she made her way to the side of the bed, the atmosphere was one of mutual respect and understanding, a shared recognition of the day's trials and the comfort found in each other's company.

The complexities of our situation, the roles we played within this makeshift family, and the challenges that lay ahead, all seemed to fade into the background, leaving room for a simpler, more profound connection.

The night, with all its potential for restlessness and worry, instead offered a pause, a gentle respite where words were unnecessary, and the simple act of being together was enough.

In the quiet of my room, with the world held at bay, we found a peace that was both rare and deeply cherished.