Morning brought many discomforts – itchiness from his makeshift bed, aches as if he'd been pummeled in his sleep. The hunger was almost a physical entity itself, gnawing away at Luke. He realized, with a hint of self-mockery, this was his first time going a full day without food.
Luke reached the town gates early, having scouted the location the previous day during his shelter hunt. The team arrived soon after, each member displaying their own morning performance. Simone was brimming with energy, cracking jokes. Bart, on the other hand, was the definition of early morning grumpiness, while Dilan remained his usual silent self. Rachel seemed like she had to be coaxed out of bed, barely awake.
After a brief, mostly non-verbal greetings, they set off. The guard at the gate appeared disinterested in their departure, which struck Luke as a bit too lax for entry procedures.
The slime-infested area extended from the river south of the town to the fields. The pesky creatures were a nuisance to farms and crops, explaining the Guild's continuous need for slime exterminators.
The walk to their destination would be short, taking about half an hour at a leisurely pace. Luke knew he couldn't dally in starting his plan. He sidled up to Rachel, who seemed lost in thought, and initiated a conversation with the water healer.
"Hey, Rachel. Do you like being a water healer?" he inquired, aiming for casualness.
Based on his experience, getting someone talking about their job usually opened up the conversation. Rachel, still in her worn blue robe, gave him a brief glance before replying with a lackluster, "Yeah, it's nice."
The reaction was unexpected, prompting him to consider if the whole ‘we need a battle mage’ thing was getting to her.
"I think it's awesome," Luke continued, catching her interest. "No matter how strong someone is, injuries can be fatal. I would say you're the most important member of the team." He watched her closely, noting her reaction.
Rachel gripped her staff, her expression torn. Luke could tell she felt somewhat undervalued, likely due to her non-combat role. He saw this as an opportunity to connect with her.
"Sure, but if I'm attacked, even a tiny moss fuzzling could seriously hurt me. Without strong teammates, I couldn't survive long enough to heal anyone," she admitted with self-deprecation, revealing Luke had unintentionally struck a deeper chord.
"I disagree," Luke countered gently, "Even without knowing your team well, it's clear you must have saved them countless times, right?"
Rachel paused, pondering his words, but still reluctantly.
"I suppose... But sometimes I feel like a liability since they have to protect me," she confessed.
"That's the essence of teamwork. Everyone plays their role. Your team fights while you heal, enabling them to continue battling. Consider the times they were injured without it being about protecting you. Your healing was vital there," Luke tried, hoping to boost her confidence.
Rachel visibly considered his perspective, realizing how important she was. Her expression lightened, sometimes an outsider's view could be needed for a reality check.
"What did you want to know?" she asked directly, catching Luke off guard. A quick scan of the team, all smirking, made him realize his motives had been transparent all along. Embracing his less-than-stellar stratagem, he responded honestly.
"I was curious about how you use your magic," he said, a bit sheepishly. Rachel's look turned incredulous, making him realize he might have tread into personal territory. "I thought it might help me with my own magic. I haven't learned much about it, and it feels complex."
Rachel's expression softened as she considered the request.
Simone jumped into the conversation with her typical flair. "Oh dear, you're one of them, right? Grew up with them?" she inquired, noticing Luke's puzzled expression. "The Church of the One True Path. Those folks think magic is a no-go. They would rather let the monsters trample us, I guess?"
The idea of a church opposing magic brought on a premonitory headache for Luke. 'Always a church in these stories,' he mused, but his focus remained on the immediate.
"No, where I grew up, we just didn't have mages," he clarified.
"My village lacked mages too," Rachel added, her expression briefly clouding over, hinting at a deeper story.
"Alright, listen up. I'll only demonstrate once," Rachel stated firmly. "And don't ask about a mage's magic again, it's not done."
Luke nodded in agreement, and the others respectfully backed away at Rachel's gesture.
"First, you need a mana source," she began, pointing to the blue crystal atop her staff. "Mine's water-aligned, but any mana crystal works. The staff is an enchanted artifact that aids in channeling, but it's not required. I draw mana from the crystal, visualize the spell, then let the mana shape the spell before sending it back into the staff. After that, it's just about directing the flow through water."
The crystal on her staff lit up in a soft blue hue, with luminous lines trailing down the staff to Rachel's hand, her eyes closed in concentration. Then, a glow traced from the handle to the tip. She aimed the staff at her flask, and water gracefully floated, guided by her motions. Directing it towards a broken sapling, the water seemed to seep into the plant, mending its breakage, before being retracted back into her flask.
"Every mage works differently," Rachel elaborated. "For me, I find it best to let mana flow like water along the paths I envision – in the air, in my mind, and into the spell's target. Water's nature is both elegant and strong-willed, requiring precise control. I can manipulate moisture in the air or even a target's blood, but pre-energized and purified water works best." She gave Luke a look that clearly meant this was as far as she would explain.
Luke, still awestruck by the display, nodded. Magic was indeed beautiful, a complicated dance of elegance and power. It sounded deeply personal, changing with each mage. Yet, some elements should be universal – the need for a mana source, mental visualization, and the final manifestation of the spell. He realized he needed a mana crystal to experiment with his own abilities.
Feeling slightly intrusive, Luke cautiously inquired, "Rachel, could I possibly borrow a mana crystal?"
She appraised him for a moment before replying. "If you're asking to use my primary crystal," she gestured to the one on her staff, "that's out of the question. No mage parts with their main casting crystal. But I can lend you a spare. You'll need to replace it, though. It's important to have backups; even the best crystals eventually dull." She produced a small, lackluster crystal from her pouch. "This one's low quality, but it'll last for a dozen or so uses."
Catching the thrown crystal, Luke examined it closely. It was faintly cool, encasing what seemed like tiny clouds – possibly an air or wind crystal. Remembering Rachel's words that a staff wasn't essential for casting, he decided to give it a try on their walk. With the river coming into view, time was short.
Taking a deep breath, Luke attempted to draw mana from the crystal. At first, nothing happened, leaving him puzzled about the process. Then, focusing on the crystal's coldness, a tingling sensation began in his hand.
Excitement nearly overwhelmed him, momentarily breaking his concentration. Settling his nerves, he resumed, focusing on the feeling and mentally urging the mana to flow.
He felt it then – a fleeting, electrifying energy that must be air mana. Keeping his excitement in check, he allowed the sensation to travel up his arm.
Now, visualization. Eyes closed, he kept drawing mana, but realized he hadn’t decided what to visualize. The loss of focus cost him the mana flow. He had wished for the ability to create anything, so technically, he could visualize anything.
Starting over, Luke conjured the image of a bread loaf, hunger guiding his thoughts. Unsure of the next step but driven by instinct, he extended his other hand. The mana coursed down his arm, converging in his palm. Before his eyes, a vortex of energy materialized, gradually shaping itself into the imagined bread.
Luke's anticipation turned to dismay as the magic bread he so yearned for disintegrated into ethereal mana wisps. Staring at the vanishing illusion, he felt a sting of tears in his eyes. 'Too good to be true,' he chided himself. In every tale of magic, mastery was a journey of trials and errors, not a gift granted on the first try.
Undeterred by his growling stomach, Luke embraced a protagonist's resolve and tried again. The mana responded more swiftly this time, a small victory. He focused intently, visualizing a simpler, plain white loaf. As the magical energy coalesced, Luke noticed an anomaly; the bread's core was hollow, it oddly felt void.
In a flash of insight, he adjusted his mental image, attempting to solidify the bread's interior. However, the summoned loaf appeared mismatched, a poorly edited image, before collapsing again.
'No way,' Luke thought, struggling with sudden realization. Perhaps, the magic demanded meticulous visualization – every detail, every ingredient, and process of creation. What kind of power was this?
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Recalling the deity's sly grin, he realized the true nature of his 'gift'. To create something, he would need exhaustive knowledge of its composition, possibly down to the specifics of its origins. The task seemed overwhelming, almost impossible.
Luke, now feeling both hesitant and disheartened, began the complicated process again. Starting from the very basics, he envisioned the wheat being ground into flour, the dough's preparation, and finally the baking. He almost hoped it wouldn't work – the complexity of this power seemed impractical for combat. He really didn’t want to be right.
But, as always, life had its own plans. The bread solidified, materializing in his hand. Overwhelmed by hunger, Luke hesitantly brought the loaf to his mouth. Was it even safe to eat something conjured by magic? Would it be like eating some artificial substance?
He took a cautious bite. The bread was bland – he'd forgotten to imagine salt. It was also somewhat tough. Maybe next time he'd remember the fermenting process.
As he finished the bread, Simone's voice cut through, "No way, are you a bread summoner? That's pretty useless."
"What happened to respecting a mage's privacy?" Luke shot back, feeling both irritated and embarrassed.
"I didn't ask; you did it in full view," she replied with a teasing smirk. "Thought we wouldn't notice?"
Luke huffed, trying to defend his dignity. "I'm not just a bread summoner!"
"Then what did you do?" Simone prodded, her tone now slightly more serious, drawing the attention of the others.
Luke realized he'd inadvertently revealed more than he intended. Revealing his unique ability might not have been the wisest move. But now that it was out there, he couldn't let them think he was just a bread summoner. Adventurers wouldn't have much use for that, though a bakery might.
Deciding to show rather than tell, Luke focused on the crystal again, aiming for something simple but more practical than bread. Concentrating, he envisioned a stone, basic but potentially useful. Moments later, a small stone materialized in his hand. It was tinier than he expected, but how easily he summoned it was a small victory.
Bracing for mockery, Luke was surprised to find the team staring in silence, even the typically vocal Simone.
Rachel, blinking away her surprise, was the first to speak. "You summoned bread and a stone?" Her incredulous tone weighed on Luke, making him second-guess his public display.
In a world like this, his unique power could draw unwanted attention. With a resigned sigh, Luke admitted, "Yes."
"That's amazing!" Rachel exclaimed. "Your magic felt powerful."
"But aren't there other summoners? You said it so..." Luke asked, hoping that would be something that could pass by normal in his ability.
"I was just joking earlier," Simone confessed. "I thought you had an artifact for storing the bread. Summoners are rare, and they usually summon tamed monsters. I've heard of one who could summon a teammate, but never anything like your ability."
Luke realized he’d been duped. "Well, it's not exactly practical at the moment," he admitted, trying to downplay the situation.
"What else can you summon?" Rachel asked eagerly.
"Just... a few things," Luke replied, keeping it intentionally vague.
"Sorry," Rachel quickly apologized, realizing her own eagerness might have overstepped the boundaries she had set about prying into a mage’s magic.
"It's fine. Let's keep going," Luke said, offering a faint smile.
As they neared the river, the silence grew more pronounced.
Approaching the slime-infested area, they finally encountered the monsters. The team quickly set into motion, without saying a word. Bart and Dilan effortlessly dispatched slimes with their weapons. While Simone used a sling to strike them from a distance, and Rachel steered clear of the creatures.
Luke observed thumb-sized shards dropping from each defeated slime. The team, however, didn’t bother collecting them. Did they expect him to gather the shards?
Bart looked back. "Aren't you going to take down some slimes?"
"What about the shards?" Luke deflected, unsure how to proceed.
Bart took out a small tube adorned with glowing rings. He opened it and a shard nearby zipped into the container. "A shard collector," he explained. "Pricey but handy. Now, start killing slimes and keep count. We'll split them later, and Rachel gets a share for her healing. With you, it's 20 percent."
Nodding, Luke turned his attention to a slime nearby, dissolving a rotten fruit. He decided against using his summoning ability – speed and volume were key here. He picked up a stone from the ground, ready to take on the slimes more directly. He had to collect as many shards as possible.
Grasping the stone tightly, he hovered over the slime and hurled it with all his might. The stone splashed into the creature, scattering ooze. The slime was instantly killed, but at a cost – his leg was now splattered with corrosive filth.
"Argh!" Luke yelped, feeling the acid seep through his worn pants, burning his skin. Frantically, he rolled on the ground, scraping off the remains with leaves. The pain persisted, but at least the damage ceased.
Embarrassed by his rookie mistake, Luke glanced around, but the others seemed indifferent, likely seeing this as a typical newbie mistake. Wasting no time, he picked another stone, this time aiming from a safer distance. His aim was off, requiring three attempts to eliminate the next slime.
Exhausted – a consequence of his gym-skipping habits – Luke persevered, typically needing two to three throws to take down each slime. One particularly stubborn slime took five tries. "Die, filthy fiend!" he shouted triumphantly at a successful hit, despite the growing fatigue.
His triumph was short-lived when he felt something sticky penetrate his boot – another slime had latched onto his foot. Pain flared as he tried to kick it off, but it clung stubbornly.
Crouching down, he used a twig to pry the creature off, finally flinging both the slime and his boot away. He then pelted the creature with stones until his frustration diminished, leaving behind the sharp pain of his injured foot.
Luke bit back a cry, inspecting the blood oozing from his foot. 'What now?' he wondered, contemplating if his summoning could be of any help.
Bart approached, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Get Rachel to take a look. It’s not lethal, but that's a bad wound," he hissed.
"Sorry," Luke muttered through clenched teeth.
"Don't sweat it, bro. We've all been there. You'll get the hang of it," Bart reassured him.
Refusing Bart’s help to move, Luke stood up and limped towards Rachel, who was busy near the river bed.
"Um, Rachel... could you give me a hand?" he asked embarrassedly.
She turned, her healer's eyes quickly assessing the injury. She sprang into action, professional and composed. Without a word or a laugh, she directed water from her flask onto his foot. Expecting a sting, Luke was relieved when the water brought soothing relief instead. It seeped into the wound, cleansing and mending the damaged skin. Within moments, fresh pink tissue formed over the injury.
"There," Rachel said, drawing back the water, some of it spilling to the ground – probably the infected portion. Luke flexed his foot, testing the new tissue. It was sensitive but not painful.
"Just be careful with it until it's fully healed," she advised before turning back to her task by the river.
Luke looked down at his bare foot, realizing he was missing a boot in a slime-infested area. His summoning power could solve this problem, but it wouldn't be easy.
Opting for simplicity, Luke decided on a basic leather shoe: hard leather sole, simple strips, and upper, all stitched together. Nothing fancy, just functional and in his size. He'd summon the other shoe if he succeeded with the first.
Focusing intently, he felt the mana work to form the shoe in his hand. The process was taxing, drawing heavily on the crystal. The magic almost slipped away, but he held onto it firmly. With a sudden materialization, the shoe took shape, leaving Luke breathless and nursing a headache.
Clutching his throbbing head, he steadied himself and picked up the shoe he had summoned.
"You should take it easy with casting. You're showing signs of strain. Pushing yourself too hard could leave you sick and unable to cast for a while. Trust me, it's not pleasant," Rachel's warning came from behind.
He gazed at the simple shoe, contemplating her words. Had he really hit his limit with such a simple item? If so, his power would be less than practical.
Noticing his dejected look, she added, "Don't be too hard on yourself. You're just starting out. As you advance in rank, your magic will become stronger and more efficient."
"Really?" Luke asked, his spirits slightly improved. Recalling Bart's mention of adventurer ranks, he wondered about his own progression. "How do I get better?"
"Practice and more casting. Each mage's magic develops differently, but the more you use it, the more attuned you become. Experimenting and exploring different aspects of your magic helps, but it's a gradual process," Rachel explained.
Grateful for her advice, Luke fitted the shoe. It was a perfect fit – a small relief. Eager to continue, he said thanks and returned to his war with the slimes.
The routine was monotonous: pick up stones, aim, throw, repeat. By noon, the others took a break, enjoying a meal by the river. Not wanting to impose, and needing the shards more than a break, Luke kept at his task.
By mid-afternoon, he paused, exhausted and hungry. Rachel had provided water throughout the day as part of her healing duties, but food was another matter. He contemplated summoning something to eat, mindful of the healer’s warning about overextending his casting abilities. It should be okay if it’s just bread.
Focused, Luke tapped into the crystal again, visualizing the process of turning wheat into flour, mixing in water, slow fermentation, a pinch of salt, and a dash of sugar. He resisted the urge to add milk for flavor, choosing practicality over experimentation in his current state of near-starvation. The bread formed in his hand much quicker this time.
He suspected the increased speed was due to his clearer and more detailed visualization. The resulting bread was not only fluffier but also tastier. Comparing the effort of summoning the bread and the shoe, he figured he could conjure about five loaves before risking overcasting. The thought of having sufficient food was both a relief and a motivation to continue his slimy onslaught.
Luke stopped only when the team signaled it was time to depart. The setting sun painted the horizon, signaling the end of their day. He rushed to Bart, borrowed the shard collector, and quickly gathered his final haul. His tally for the day reached a surprising 123 slimes.
Pride swelled in him until he learned that Bart, the team's lowest scorer, had slain 208 slimes with less effort. Simone and Dilan had collected even more, with 260 and 272 shards, respectively. On the journey back, Luke learned the day's efforts were modest by team standards. Accounting for meals, accommodation, and town taxes, they each spent about 3 silver drakes, or 60 copper snakes, a day. After deducting Rachel's 20 percent and converting the shards, their earnings were: Dilan - 108 snakes, Simone - 104 snakes, Rachel - 86 snakes, Bart - 83 snakes, and Luke - 50 snakes.
Luke's share barely covered his expenses, but he opted out of meals, choosing to pay only for taxes and lodging to avoid another night in a random warehouse.
Upon reaching the town gate, Luke was relieved to find that guards accepted shards as a form of tax. Their tax system varied: workers were exempt, adventurers paid a flat rate of a silver drake or 40 shards, and merchants were charged based on their cargo's estimated value.
The significant tax bite alarmed Luke, but his teammates reassured him that higher-paying jobs would soon offset these costs.
At the Guild, their shards and badges were presented to the counter agent. Luke's badge, to his surprise, had an enchantment certifying his kills, advancing him from rankless to copper. This system seemed a foolproof way to avoid falsifying kills.
Opting for a day's lodging without meals, Luke used 20 snakes, leaving him with a modest sum. His team mentioned this would be enough for a meal or a new pair of pants but far from enough for a mana crystal. Purchasing crystals was costly, and adventurers typically preferred using looted crystals.
Exhausted but satisfied, Luke looked forward to a better night's sleep in an actual bed. A shower, even in a shared room, was a luxury after a hard day. The only downside was that he had to wait until his roommate fell asleep before quietly practicing his summoning.
Despite his fatigue, Luke's curiosity pushed him to attempt summoning a copper snake. Each attempt failed, likely due to his unfamiliarity with the coin's detailed minting process. He managed, however, to summon the other shoe before succumbing to sleep, the failed attempts surprisingly less taxing than a successful summoning.