“Our training will come to an end this week.”

“Wait, what?!”

After the incident with Master Wong and the serious conversation that occurred after, we walked back to my apartment. I compelled Becca to sleep in the bed, while I slept on a pile of hides on the floor. The next morning, we spoke with the landlady Lily, about renting out another studio, and she took us to inspect an empty unit on the third floor. Becca argued with me all the way there that at the very least I should have the one closer to ground level, but this promptly stopped when we saw the prior occupant had painted the walls pink. Becca was not terribly pleased with the color either, but relented that that it would be worse for me to live there.

That was nearly six weeks ago. It had been convenient for us to be living on top of each other. It actually allowed us to increase the time we spent training outside the City. And we now spent evenings talking, sometimes about mundane things, and other times about some of the more theoretical aspects of being a spiritualist.

Today, Becca and I were meditating after another morning of training and sparring. We had started to work into our spars the usage of spiritual techniques, and had also adopted some exercises specifically for increasing the strength and control of our ki.

“Our progress has slowed considerably. Many of the easy gains have already been made. And while there are other aspects that we could continue to work on, spiritualism isn’t defined by an empty field, some weights, and a single partner. A new environment will bring much needed growth to some areas that have been lacking, and train us in skills that simply don’t get touched here. Combined with the lack of physical progress, it makes sense to mix things up. Moreover, while our sparring is helpful for human-to-human combat, frankly most combat in our lives will be with beasts, so we should begin a methodical effort to train to defeat them.”

“Well, sure, that sounds fine, but don’t we need more than two people to form up a hunting party?”

“No, not at all. The two of us will be more than enough and I intend to be rather cautious until we gather the rest of our intrepid band.”

“Our intrepid band?”

“We’ll discuss later. In any event, the two of us should be able to address anything within a hundred kilometers of here.”

“Hmm, well, fine. Some day trips some good.”

“No, not day trips, we’ll need to take longer trips to find what we need. The guard does too good a job keeping areas in the valley clear. No, we’ll be going past Scarred Mountain.”

“What!? Are you crazy? No one goes past Scarred Mountain without a group of at least ten, let alone two!”

“…When was the last time you took your weights off?”

“Umm, about a month ago I took off the left forearm to fix the leather stitching there, but I haven’t removed all the weights since ….my third rest day?”

Oh right. Initially in our training, when Becca took a rest day, I removed the weights to allow her body to recover, but after a month, she’d gained enough strength that her body still recovered very well even with the weights on all the time.

“One of the things about being a spiritualist,” I continued, “is knowing exactly how strong you are. Thinking yourself stronger than you are is often arrogance and can lead to death of you or your party. But thinking yourself weaker than you are will stagnate your growth. I think you’ll find that when you remove the weights, you’ll gain a better appreciation for your own strength.”

We sat in silence thereafter, until I broke it again a minute later.

“Also, we need more money.”

“Ah ha!”

***

We broke early that day and headed into the City and Dolores’ smithy. There she stood behind the counter, reliably smith-like in all the ways that mattered.

“Ah, Evert,” she glanced up from a ledger she was writing in, “back so soon?”

“Yes, she”—I jutted a thumb at Becca—“needs a pair of gauntlets. Fine, but not custom made.”

“Wait, what?!” Becca exclaimed, pulling her hand back from the axe she had been grazing with his fingers. We both ignored her.

“Brawler?”

“Aye.”

“Hmm…” she puzzled, “I don’t have fine gauntlets in stock, but my cousin specializes in armor. I can take the order and have them delivered if you’d like.” I was about to reply, when she gestured me closer to the counter and leaned in, “you know, typically you shouldn’t buy gauntlets for your girlfriend,” she whispered.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” I whispered back with more anger than I should have. “We’re just training together and she needs more than the wraps she has right now.”

“Sure, but still, she seems like a nice girl. Get her a necklace you know? Or maybe some earrings. I know a guy…”

“Arrgh!” I cried, throwing my hands in the air. “Just measure her and get done with it,” I yelled back and stomped out the door.

***

Early the next morning, I found myself packing two travel backpacks with equipment I had gathered over the past week. Becca did not have any travel equipment herself, so I told her simply to pack clothing, her gauntlets, and whatever necessities she needed and I’d handle the travel equipment myself. Of the engraved tools I had crafted, there were two kinds I was packing.

First, there was the firestarter. These actually were sold in Dorflich, but I was a little rusty and short on marks, so I crafted it myself. While Becca could start easily fires with her own ki, and I could force it if needed, it was always good to have an easy to use backup.

Second, were two bottomless water flasks. These flasks were not literally bottomless, but were designed to accept a trickle of ki and create fresh water over time. While any spiritualist could attune water ki to create water, it was also handy to have a mass of water handy in case of emergency. And while perhaps less useful for me, the trick of continuing to trickle a bit of ki to the object would be good for Becca’s control.

While I had crafted a crystal lantern, I ultimately decided not to bring it on this first trip as it was too bulky. I had no intent of exploring any caves, and a pair of compact light sticks would be more than enough for any nocturnal tasks to the extent we needed to avoid open flame.

In addition to the enscribed objects I created, I also packed:

* Rope, stakes, and two waterproof hides. These were added in case we need an ad hoc tent from the rain. It was still pleasant this time of year, so I largely expected we would sleep without.

* Two sleeping bags. These I had crafted myself from Boar and Deer hides I had skinned and treated, along with wool fabric I had purchased.

* A hatchet, which I had crafted. This was likely unnecessary as I could likely shape the ki I wanted to cut anything, but I was already foregoing a hunting knife on that exact theory and I wanted at least one small blade with me.

* A heavy-walled pot, a fry pan, and two shallow bowls. These I actually purchased.

* Flour, yeast, salt, and mixed spices

* Soap

* Empty sacks

As I was contemplating the soap, there was a knock on my door.

“Come in, it’s open.”

“Hey Evert, ready to go?”

“Just about,” I said, eventually deciding to split the soap between the two packs. “I left room at the top of your pack for clothing and any necessities you brought,” I said, flipping the top open and stepping to the side to let her put things away. While she was did so, I asked “I noticed you still have your weights on.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I know what you said, but I still felt that I ought to keep them on. You’re so much stronger still than I am and there’s a lot of catch up to do.”

Hmm, this may be tricky. “True, but you’re using the wrong yard stick by comparing yourself to me. You need to compare yourself to the beasts we’re facing, and you can’t accurately doing that while you’re slowed down. Plus, you’ll feel so light after taking them off, you’ll need a bell or more just to get used to it.”

“So, you still think I should leave them here? Alright, fine.” With that, she began to discharge the ki from her weights into the floor, and as they emptied, she unstrapped them one at a time. “See,” she said, as she stepped, “piece of caa——” as she promptly fell forward, flying nearly eight feet into my desk. She turned back to look at me sheepishly, and then carefully inched herself up. After a few minutes walking the room, and a broken—then repaired—strap on our bags later, we set off for the West Gate.

****

As we left the City and headed west towards Scarred Mountain, Becca began to quiz me on what I had packed, and I went through it all.

At the end, she paused then asked “I felt these were on the small side. Shouldn’t there be more food? And why isn’t there a proper tent? Or a hunting knife? I feel you dropped the ball a bit there.”

“Well, food’s pretty straightforward. We’re primarily going to fight beasts, so we’ll have plenty of fresh meat on a regularly basis, though I may end up making a bit of jerky with the dry weather if we find a good beast to do so. Anyways, the fresh meat really doesn’t need much more than salt and the fry pan or a spit, though I brought a few other spices as well if you get sick of it. That said, while most beast meat sold in the city is usually limited to half a dozen or so species—Squirrel, Boar, Deer, Rabbit, Raptor—we’ll come across a much wider variety of meat on our trips, so I’d expect you won’t get tired of it anytime soon. And while we may not be training every day, this will still be a physically strenuous trip so the protein will be good.”

“So, what’s with the flour then?”

“Well, we could use the flour and some lard to batter up some of the meat and fry it, but primarily the flour and yeast are for making campfire bread. We’ll proof it overnight, then bake it in the Dutch oven each morning, and that’ll serve us throughout the day. Bringing the flour and yeast ends up saving both weight and volume compared to bread, and hardtack never makes anyone happy.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Fresh bread, huh? Seems like you’ve done a fair bit of camping.”

“That I have. Anyways with that taken care of, we’ll also do a bit of foraging of fruit and vegetables. In addition to our daily needs, I’m interested in gathering certain plants for use back in Dorflich. We’ll need to dry out what we gather, but the weather is good, and I can help accelerate the process as well. That’s what the sacks are for. I don’t expect to bring much fresh meat or hides back, but I am expecting a lot of cores, and a lot of dried plants.”

“So, foraging is a secondary objective. Why can’t you just buy the dried plants yourself in the City.”

I sighed. “It’s a bit complicated. First, several of the plants I want no one bothers to collect, so I can’t just buy them in the City. On top of that, what is available, either is in too small of quantities, too expensive, or was poorly processed and is of low quality. It’s been troubling me for months, and eventually I just realized it’s something you have to do yourself to do right.”

“Huh. Well, lucky us. So how long will this trip last?”

“Well, since it’s our first, I want to play it safe and say four nights. I should say that from now to the tournaments in a month, I’d expect to sleep outside the city at least half that time.”

“And how deep into the mountains will we go?”

“Hmm, well, we’ll play it by ear, but over rough terrain and estimating two bells of hiking a day, I’d expect we’ll go out about a hundred kilometers before turning around.”

Becca starting counting on her fingers for several seconds, before her eyes widened, “That’s like forty kilometers per day! We can’t do that!”

“Hmm, closer to fifty,” I said as we approached the top of a hill, with a conspicuous boulder on top. “And this is a good point. Look back at the City.”

Stopping and turning around, I saw Becca’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, how did we…”

“We’re about five kilometers out already. We’ve been walking now for a fifth bell with a full load. So, even with all that weight, and without even thinking about it, we’re managing twenty-five kilometers per bell. And if we really put our mind to it, we’ll be able to handle that easily over rough terrain.”

“Damn.”

“This is part of what I meant when I said you need to understand your strength so that you can properly act. You see this boulder,” I said, jutting my thumb at it. It was easily three meters tall. “Jump on it.”

“Wait, what?”

“Just what I said, jump on it. Take one step, bend your knee a little, and jump.”

“Are you crazy? I know that we’ve been working with a ton of weights, but you can’t just jump ten feet with a fully loaded backpack from essentially standing still. That’s impossible,” she said accusingly, pointing a finger at me, while standing between myself and the boulder.

I sighed, more deeply this time, bent my knees an inch, then jumped up and over Becca to land gracefully on the boulder behind her. I spun around on the balls of my feet and looked back at her.

“You can do this. Removing the weights earlier wasn’t simply about walking without tripping. It’s also about learning when you can turn up that power and what you can accomplish when you can. You have to learn not only how to walk lightly, but jump highly. You need to dance around your enemies, and leap across chasms. Shape clay to pottery, and carve mountains to statues. You don’t have the power to do all of that now. But you must believe you will have it one day or you never will.”

I watched the emotions play across Becca’s face. It was harsh what I was doing, but it was needed. In my old life, these were lessons none of us learned until we were much older, and we had plateaued as spiritualists for so long until we did these and other lessons. Becca was only 18—or was she 19? I should check her birthday—but if she could learn these lessons now, how far could we go? Would it be enough? No, I knew this lesson too. It had to be enough. We would have the power.

I watched Becca take a deep breath, then two steps back. She swung her arms back and forth like a pendulum, once, twice, and on the third swing, she stepped, bent low, and leapt in nearly a straight line right over my head, going over and past the boulder. As she passed me, I reached out and snagged her foot, reversing her momentum, and bringing her back down to the boulder, landing on her butt.

“Well, you have the power. Let’s work on that landing, shall we?”

***

We actually only jumped on and off that boulder a few more times. There was a boulder field that would be more fruitful about three kilometers ahead. Rather than just hike along though, we made it a race. I kept on Becca’s tail, throwing small pebbles at her to make her go faster, and ultimately we covered the distance in only five minutes. Becca was only a little out of breath, which seemed appropriate. It could be difficult to adjust to that type of power gain and maybe people would habitually breath much heavier than they needed. Once we got to the boulder field, we spent a half bell jumping up and down boulders, and between boulders, until Becca had a good grip on how to jump. Other issues such as agility in combat could be addressed later.

With that exercise done, we resumed our hike, and I handed her the bottomless flask. She questioned why I handed her an empty flask, and I explained how the bottomless flask had runes which would slowly refill it if filled with ki. I explained to her how she should divert a small portion of ki to always filling it while we walked. She stumbled a few times trying to multitask between walking and funneling her ki without using her hands, but we managed, and a half bell later, had reached the base of the Scarred Mountain, and then proceeded north as the valley narrowed, and the forest began in earnest.

Entering the forest, finding beasts became much easier. Within the first half bell, we ran into four F-ranked beasts, which I had Becca defeat single-handedly. We harvested their cores and kept on hiking. We would regrettably end up with a massive surplus of carcasses that we simply couldn’t use on this trip, though I knew that they would be gone within the bell as scavenger beasts picked them apart. While the F-rankers were all easy victories for her, they were hardly overwhelming, and I knew that she was ready for a bigger challenge.

With that, I curved us a bit farther southwest towards the slope of the mountains and broadened my spiritual sense around us. Eventually, I located a lone Mountain Goat—an E-ranked beasts, much like my first E-ranker this life—and steered Becca to it. As we hid behind the log of a fallen tree, I pointed it out to her and told her what I wanted to do.

“Are you insane?” she whisper-yelled, “that’s a freaking E-ranked beast. I’m F-ranked. Yes, your training is great, but even an E-ranker wouldn’t take on an E-ranked beast unless they were desperate.”

I glanced back at the Goat again to be sure, then stared at her. “First of all, you’re E-ranked. Welcome to the club. And frankly, you’re on the high end of that even now. Second, Mountain Goats tend to be on the lower end of E-rank to begin with, and this one is young. Third, you’re going to take your backpack off, and you’re going to have the element of surprise. And finally, I will be nearby. You can do this.”

Becca bit her lip, looked at the Goat, then her feet, then the Goat again. Then stared back into my eyes with fire that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Fine. I—I got it.” She unloaded her bag, then started creeping left and forward through the underbrush. She quickly disappeared from sight, but I felt her easily with my spiritual sense as she moved closer. When she was about seven meters away, but somewhat behind the Goat, she stopped, and didn’t move for several moments. Psyching herself up? I thought, before she started the movements for a spiritual technique. Several seconds later, a fireball was launched straight at the Goat nailing it on the backside.

“BAAaaa!” it cried, and spun around looking for the attacker. Though it wasn’t singed due to its aura, I could already tell that it was already nearly halfway to defeat. Becca rushed around the tree she had used as partial cover, but pulled up short as the Goat started bounding towards her. As the Goat leaped to headbutt her, she rolled out of the way, trying to sideswipe the beast. This sequence repeated itself twice more on two more times, before I yelled out.

“You’re wearing steel gauntlets now! Just punch it in the head!”

With my words of advice, Becca steadied her feet on the next engagement, and threw her weight into a punch straight at the Goat’s head as it leapt at her. With a sickening crunch, the Goat came to a complete stop, its head caved in, and it fell to the ground. Grabbing Becca’s bag, I hopped over the log, and walked up to her, as she doubled over breathing heavily.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, standing back up with her hands on her hips. “It was just… more intense than I expected.”

“Piece of cake though? Two hits, and you just nagged ten thousand marks.”

Becca face froze, and her jaw dropped open as she realized what this meant. More than just the emotional victory over a strong opponent, it was a financial win larger than any she had known in her entire life. When I tossed the sheathed hunting knife at her, it bounced off her chest and landed on the ground.

“Of course, you’ll need to harvest it yourself. And see if you can’t get the tenderloin out. It’ll make for a good meal tonight.”

“What are you going to do,” she asked, as I started walking off to the side.

“I saw some horseradish over here. It’s one of the plants I wanted to harvest on this trip, so I’m going to grab some now. Plus, it’ll be good with the goat.”

And with that, I walked about twenty meters away and past a few trees to where I had seen the root growing growing. Forming a shovel of hardened water, I quickly dug up several pounds of the root, trimming off the green, and rinsing the dirt off of it. Satisfied with my haul, I threw it into one of the sacks I brought along, and made my way back to Becca.

She had, surprisingly, made little progress. The Goat’s fur was now nearly red all over, with a large gash down the abdomen. Becca had her hand nearly elbow deep in the beast.

“You’ve never harvested a beast before?” I asked surprised as I came up behind her. She jumped a little, glancing back over her shoulder.

“I have too…” she replied petulantly and then, more honestly, “just not anything this large before.”

I signed internally, faulting myself for yet again poorly estimating just what skills Becca had at this stage of her life. Which, now that I think about it, I hadn’t even met her at this point in my original life.

“Ok, well, if you’re looking for the core, you need to go about 30 centimeters closer to the head.” After a few more moments rooting around, she finally pulled out the beast core. “As to the meat, hand me the knife and watch. We’ll go over other field butchery skills another time.”

With that, I knelt beside the Goat and showed Becca how to remove a tenderloin.

***

A bell later, we found ourselves sitting around a campfire as dinner finished roasting. We had moved a few kilometers farther into the forest fighting F-rankers and settled down near some larger boulders which provided some shelter from the weather. Becca gathered the firewood and started the fire courtesy of her affinity, while I otherwise set up camp. Seasoning up the tenderloin with salt and coriander, it was shoved onto a sharp stick, and set to spit roast. As it did so, I prepared the bread for the next morning in the dutch oven, and let it proof. As the meat finished cooking, I cut what remained of our old bread, and let it toast up a little near the fire. As the meat cooled away from the fire, I brought out some of the horseradish, sliced it into small pieces with the knife, and ground it between two rocks with a heavy pinch of salt.

“Whatcha doing,” Becca asked from the other side of the fire.

“I’m preparing horseradish.”

“Is that the plant you picked earlier?”

“You actually harvest the roots, but yes, it is.”

“So, why?”

“Well, immediately, because prepared horseradish pairs well with red meat,” I said, finishing with the grinding. I moved, back to the roasted meat, and sliced it into several hunks. Splitting the meat and bread onto two plates, together with the horseradish, I handed one plate to Becca. “Though in the long term, incorporating it into your diet on a regular basis helps with both strengthening your body and your spirit.”

“Wait, that’s why we’re harvesting plants? To rework our diets to improve our growth?”

“In short, yes.”

Becca chewed that over for several moments before asking, “Why wouldn’t we just go to an alchemist and pick up a pill or elixir? Reworking your entire diet seems much less efficient.”

I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow, before picking up my own plate and sitting near her.

“No, not at all. Alchemists frankly have no idea what they’re doing. While the ingredients they use can have beneficial properties to alchemists, the way they process them almost always strips—” I stopped when I heard Becca suddenly start coughing, having put a large dollop of horseradish on her first bite of Goat.

“Whooh! That’s strong shit. Should’ve warned a girl, eh?”

“Sorry, slipped my mind that you might have never had it before. Anyways, the alchemists strip out all the benefits when they refine it. Ideally, you want the plants with minimal processing. Fresh is best, though eating them entirely raw can be rather foul tasting, so usually there’s some intermediate step before consumption. Drying, grinding, steaming, sautéing…” my voice trailed off as I took my first bite. “On top of that, ideally you’d work these plants into your diet over a lengthy period of time. In Dorflich, we’ll need to harvest many of them ourselves as it’s not well understood, but in other cities you can buy in market.”

“Other cities?!” Becca reacted with surprise, “You’ve traveled?”

“I have.”

“Tell me.”

“Not tonight.” And for all that I was an old soul, even I felt the awkward silence that descended between us after that.