Having taken the village’s priceless books with him he decided to at least skim through all of them to see if there was anything he could understand.
Sorting through the books some of them appeared to be spellbooks, as Nate had only basic training in magic he could not make heads nor tails of the contents. Trying to make the text and diagrams make sense hurt his brain. Other books appeared to be historical books, at least the text in all of them was fairly similar and didn’t seem to be any of the magic he knew, getting them reprinted still would be a pain, but Nate hopefully had enough money, he’d probably have to find a way to simplify the lettering so he didn’t have to commission a custom typeface.
Should he learn more advanced magic? He already knew basic things like some minor preservation, survival, and medical techniques, perhaps some defensive or sensing magic, he didn’t need offense because of the gun. But things needed to be done now, perhaps once the war in the Odez Republic ended he’d take some time to learn more about magic. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest move to move now, but something needed to be done.
What exactly needed to be done? How would he protect the weak? He could just work as a logistician for some humanitarian organization, or perhaps a hunter of bandits, but he was too weak for that. Nate alternated between writhing on the ground as he reflected on his weakness and listlessly staring out the window. Glory and gold goes to the bold, glory and gold goes to the bold, glory and gold goes to the bold, glory and gold goes to the bold, glory and gold goes to the bold he repeated to himself over and over again. Today he would change.
Oh? Good! I thought I would help him a little, weave together a little song from fragments of tunes and give him something to follow, some horns from a herald, some singing in a mix of his father’s language and other languages, and the percussion of hammers banging. Then I just start to play the song and he starts to hum along. With that we started by making a list of what needed to be done.
First was obvious, he needed to finish clearing out his room, then he’d get the books reprinted, after that he was effectively free, free to start a mad march to power. He’d make his way to Odez, while on his way he’d train in martial arts and magic, or at least what he could in that time. As for magic he needed to learn an entirely separate base of information from mostly the tech info he knew.
Once in Odez he would skirt along the border and try to prevent banditry. Once he got enough experience and enough people for logistical support, he’d take his hand diving into dungeons to try and get enough dungeon materials to trade for techlord strength. After that he could try and become a noble of a parcel of land and protect it like his father once did.
His father did recommend he build something on his own so somewhere along the way he’d find a wife. Thinking through his criteria she would need to be a net benefit to his life and not make him want to kill himself talking to her, he also had to be stronger than her, He never wanted something like with Lily to happen again.
He’d also want someone he could have a bunch of kids with, he simply wanted to give others as good a childhood as he had. I watched as this thought process happened, referencing this with other information about current events I had that he had forgotten. I knew that nothing would go according to plan, perhaps he did too but denied it.
Nate stared up at the ceiling for much of the night. He hated his situation, he knew he had to move but didn’t know how to. Eventually he fell asleep, the few hours he got had no dreams to keep him awake. When he awoke he left to go figure out what to deal with the books, He needed to get the raw copies into the hands of his university, someone would find them interesting and they had the tools to preserve them, good thing he had some contacts. Last semester he attended Pollor Vell college, he might send the texts to some of his friends there. Speaking of Pollor Vell, he still needed to drop out, he’d also need to tell the good folks at that school’s library he was quitting. Perhaps they might be interested in the books too.
Avoiding the puddles that covered the streets of Relnakel after a rain, Nate made his way towards the print shop. One of the city’s boys was selling papers and Nate bought one. Handing the boy the money Nate thought of how to lift people from poverty, what was poverty? What was wealth? Nate didn’t know, he needed to learn about it on his journey. I noted that Nate could have just asked the newsboy and probably figured it out, but I wanted to just get his book baggage printed so we could leave.
Finding a print shop that Nate knew of he waited for the owner to be done with other customers, he took the opportunity to read the newspaper he just bought. The Relnakel Weekly had a mix of local, formerly bi-national and international events held within. Looking at it there was something about local political corruption, classic Relnakel, now that the Tzar was gone people actually had to start caring about the city instead of relying on subsidy from a larger national government. The artificer named The Toymaker just returned from one of her journeys and was going to make Relnakel her new headquarters now that the Tzar was gone, good for the city but it would take years for that to pan out.
Most of the paper though was filled with reports of what had happened to the Tzar and what happened with the Wolenaughts. From what little the refugees could say, the Tzar summoned something he shouldn’t have. People speculated on whether it was a high ranking warform pilot or some other sort of high ranking martial artist, or some reaction with a dungeon, likely the Drifting Pyre, but it wasn’t that close to his land at the current time. The wolenaughts survived and were now free, some threw themselves against cities, others were waiting, going somewhere.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
There was also a civil war in a neighboring state called the Odez republic. The war ignited over tensions between a group of techlords and the very strong diver guilds of Odez. They were on the other side of the country so they wouldn’t have to worry about the wolenaughts, but villages were still disappearing like everyone was taken in the night, no bloodstains, nothing.
I made a note of this to investigate, some other things that Nate forgot also seemed to follow a similar pattern, rebellions or instability happen, a bunch of people go missing and then it happens again somewhere else.
Finally the owner of the shop was done seeing the customer before Nate, he called out to Him. They exchanged professional greetings, they were familiar with each other as Nate stuck around to purchase copies of books and just to talk, he met some interesting people previously. Nate discussed what exactly he wanted printed. The owner of the shop noted the requests down, and said that another option would be significantly cheaper, the store owner had recently been dabbling in microfilm production. Nathan enquired on the process.
Microfilm was effectively taking photographs of text and then shrinking them very small so they could effectively be stored. Amplifications of up to 400x in data density could be achieved! Nate was happy that the store owner had started to venture into this field as he was thinking of purchasing some books to read on his journey, if he could get them in microfilm then he could carry many times as many. He also wouldn’t have to do anything special to get his books recorded so it would be significantly cheaper and easier. He discussed what the store owner had on hand as he was leaving soon.
What the store owner had was lacking in Nate’s opinion. There was a collection of myths and legends that the store owner showed to Nate with a viewing device for the film. Nate commissioned a list of books he would like converted into microfilm, especially the ones from his village, he could take them with him on the go. Doing this would still be costly, but that was a price he could pay, they then made pleasantries and Nate left. Next was dropping out of his college and saying goodbye to the people he worked with.
Pollor Vell was started by some 5th-rate techlord, perhaps he started it as a ploy to gain resources with low risk or perhaps he actually wanted to educate people. Either way the facilities left something to be desired but the education was top notch, or at least as top notch education for non-techlords went. Nate knew people in the library department that would be interested in what he had on his hands. He saw co-workers and a cute girl that he was going to ask out after the Ortellen affair, or better said, Ortellen’s affair, but inside he had no more interest, perhaps in another time.
His actions blurred as I paid less and less attention, Nathan talked to his supervisor, his coworkers, and gave them the relevant heads-up about the microfilm coming their way. He didn’t even bother remembering some of their names, what a bastard, but this could be worked on. Then to offices to drop out, and tuition money, then his landlord and rent, then his roommate who was sad to him go, his landlord who was happy to give his room to a refugee. Days passed as he did this. The more connections to his past he loses the more I can influence him. He started to pack his things in boxes, one of his favored items was a blanket his mother quilted for him. Perhaps… no, I’ll keep that as a last resort, it will make or break our future partnership. In my current state if he wants me gone I have no out.
Soon his final night in Relnakel came, it had been three weeks since his world was broken, what he couldn't bring with him had been donated or set up in a long-term storage unit, he used the rest of his savings on the rental fee, perhaps if he got enough money in the future he could transfer more money to extend the lease. The storage company he set up at did advertise that. With those thoughts leading him to sleep he slept his final night in the place he called his second home, tomorrow he would start his path to rule.
A rush was made to the train station from the print shop to make the boarding on time. His pack weighed him down but the future was ahead, that unknown wild future waited for him, it needed him, it needed us. While we waited we took the opportunity and read some. Starting with the physical copy of The Long March which was split up into three sections, there was the theoretical section, practical section, and the hymns and legends section. He didn’t have it turned into microfilm as it would be rude to give the print shop owner access to something Master Idant trusted him with.
The theoretical section went over what it was meant to accomplish and what the philosphy of the martial art was, it told us that humans were meant to walk and it was what we were designed to do, as such if we work with this design and cultivate ourselves then we can exceed the constraints of our bodies, that our will would be sharpened and that our body would grow more resilient.
The practical section focused on how exactly to move our focus and eventually our internal energy around our body to breakdown and then build back up stronger. For this particular art it focused mostly on the legs, hips, and lungs. There weren’t many kata in the art, it was just marching, the further you got the heavier weight you would carry. Good thing Nate was fairly experienced already, lugging back all of his village’s books pushed his limits of what he could do.
The songs and hymns section tried to transmit the “soul” of the martial art. The hymns of The Long March sang of various individuals who had to keep advancing, whether through starvation, dehydration, wounds, or what burden they carried. They had to keep going forward, the only thing else was death.
Nate sat and processed this information and pondered how far he would be willing to go. After some time he started to look at some of the microfilm he brought with him. He had a fairly light reader for it. It weighed roughly 5 kg, made out of some transparent polymer and aluminum, it had some integrated light source, there was a solar panel on the back and a battery. It was a boxy rectangular prism in shape.
What he had in his library of microfilm was a book on old legends, various informational books he requested, and copies of the original versions of his village’s books. As he was still processing the information given to him by The Long March he started to look at the myths and legends that the store owner had on hand. One of the stories caught his and my attention. It was the story of a devil lord from thousands of years ago, he was a hero turned villian named Bal Iendus who founded the devil arts, martial arts powered by the sacrifice of others, he was twisted by the arts into a cruel villain and eventually he was slain by a mix of betrayal and the armies of the gods coming together.
Bal Iendus, that rang in my head, I remembered drowning in the blood of thousands. Was I that man? I must be, somehow I was put into the head of a potential hero. I had forgotten all of my martial arts and most of my memories but somehow I, Bal Iendus would recover them and get revenge on my killers, the gods would kneel, I felt something similar from the young man, a collective resentment against the world, together all will kneel!