Mongrel wanted to sit tight and practise the new skills he ‘’inherited’ but there was no time for them.
The device that was supposed to take them out would only open or activate once a century. As for how they got the time, they were putting blind faith in the self-rotating sandglass.
Rowent was familiar with the fluid and make of the sandglass and seemed certain that it was working and accurate. It wasn’t filled with sand despite its name but a viscous black fluid.
They had less than a year to travel past the distance equivalent from Fifth Tide to Second. Slightly shorter than the distance from Plainston to Tidal. That should be plenty of time for travel but it didn’t include the waves of shadow creatures that filled the area.
The fire mage was taking the situation in strides. Calmly analysing that there was no reason to question what he couldn’t do anything about.
Mongrel felt like he was freaking out more than Rowent despite knowing more about the situation.
They tried to hunt to level Rowent up for two weeks.
Mongrel made up the excuse as he wanted to incorporate his new sword mastery with his axe. He didn’t have to copy the figures in his mind to the dot. All of them had two arms and legs each while he didn’t.
Secretly learning how to control shadows was his main point of focus.
What they figured out was that they couldn’t kill these creatures. The shadow creatures simply faded into the ground the moment fire got near them and tearing their flesh apart only led to a waste of energy as they could easily piece themselves together.
However, Mongrel knew he was able to hurt them as long as he enveloped himself with his shadows. Rowent, as the mage, didn’t know that he wouldn’t be able to touch them even if he used his staff to whack them. That worked out well for Mongrel.
As unfair as it was, the creatures could hurt them with a single touch while he needed mana, mental effort and to be able to reach them physically. He couldn’t manipulate shadows beyond an arm’s reach and once they weren’t in contact with his body, they couldn’t touch any physical matter. They could still touch the shadow creatures though.
There was not a single fruit tree or edible monster in sight which cut their limited time even further.
They had limited food.
Mongrel didn’t have an endless bag capacity. With potions saving space, he brought less than a year’s worth of sustenance.
For one person.
Skill levels went up but he hadn’t learned any new skills. Rowent found out what worked and what didn’t and optimised his staff or something.
It had the option of speeding up one or two of his spells in exchange for slowing down others.
Odd, but situationally useful.
He kept a flamethrower kind of spell so that he could protect himself as fast as possible. It was both defence and offence but short-ranged.
On the map they found under the table, some locations were marked out just like their current location and the small cave. They didn’t need much smarts to know it represented safe spots or spots with these light gems.
“This is oddly elaborate. Designed. Know what I mean?” Rowent commented.
The fire mage never asked about the flimsy stone mask stabbed into his face.
“Yeah. Totally, feels like some kind of trial of fire or survival.”
“Right!? It must be! My skills have already levelled a few times!”
Mongrel almost chuckled because Rowent secretly watched too many memory lights about heroes and their tribulations in his free time. It was easy to distract him with these methods. The fact that their skill level is rising can easily be attributed to the stress and danger levels present.
“Packed up? It’s a two-week run, no rest, no safe spots, no shelter, no time to eat.”
“Haaa…exhaustion resistance, I never thought I’d have to push it outside of time to study. I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”
‘He’s changed…what did I expect?’ Mongrel doesn't remember Rowent being so relaxed. Rather, there was more energy in the man’s tone of voice.
Was it because it wasn’t Chris but Mongrel who he was facing?
In any case, it was time to move.
Within five days, Mongrel figured out why the people in his sets of memories moved oddly.
They were protecting someone.
Each and every one of the three figures took hits for an invisible figure, not within the memories he was shown.
“Why.”
“What did you say?” Rowent panted while getting a piggyback.
The fire mage was quite a saver, at least, his presence made it possible for them to catch sleep from time to time. It taxed the fire mage for a few hours and the rest of the day was dependent on him.
It wasn’t always possible to piggyback so the mage had a good chance to put his movement spell and skill to the test.
The nutrition potion worked wonders but finding time and a chance to relieve their physiological urges was quite difficult. The easy method was to piss once Rowent set up a fence of flames.
Mongrel and Rowent had never run so hard in their lives.
Just constantly pushing their feet, legs and lungs was tiresome enough. The shadow creatures of many different forms were relentless. Mongrel could see their moves from a mile away but his body had trouble keeping up and they both sustained non-fatal injuries.
Whenever Rowent fell asleep on his back, he would practice a shadow movement skill. Shortening the time it took to get to their destination.
The middle-aged man in his memories recovered his energy by enveloping his shadow around the shadow creatures but the two youths did not. A mistake on the middle-aged man’s part. Mongrel was given advance information, the middle-aged man turned fiendish before he imparted the inheritance to one of the youths.
The concept of a Fiend was fed into Mongrel and he was quite surprised to find out that absorbing ambient or foreign essence had such consequences.
However, he still benefited from the environment. It felt like he could manipulate shadows with far less effort and less mana than usual. He wouldn’t know what ‘usual’ would feel like but he was pretty sure that it was the locations’ effect.
When they closed in on the next hut, Mongrel slowed down from the memories that overlapped with his current position and time.
The middle-aged man crouched and stayed silent for a second. Then he called out while shaking something invisible on the ground.
Mongrel was stunned in place by the yell that came after.
The hoarse voice tore into his very core.
“What’re you doing?!” Rowent dragged him sprawling into the doorway.
The hut’s door opened easily and stayed locked. The shadowy creatures simply watched from afar. Never getting too close to the light that the hut produced.
The hut looked exactly the same. It could fit three or four people if they squeezed. A wooden table, door, a pair of windows, a kitchen and beds. Not to mention a toilet. It was luxurious.
“Haaa-haa” Mongrel grabbed his mask as if it was falling off.
‘Why’s my heart hurting?’ Mongrel meant it figuratively. He was torn from within.
He calmed down soon after thanks to sheer exhaustion.
Neither of them had their guard up and were quickly knocked out.
The routine continued.
Mongrel and Rowent made it from one hut to another.
Mongrel learned one skill after the other. They tried to ration their food stocks and that was not productive, almost costing their lives. A weakened and exhausted warrior and mage was one problem, a weakened, exhausted and hungry pair was another.
This weird place wasn’t completely barren. From his inherited memories, all three people found some sort of sustenance here. Mongrel ate the weird vegetation and fruits while feeding Rowent his stockpile. He even managed to hunt a few of these shadow creatures sometime back. They were called Formless Shade and were indeed under level 300.
They reached their fourth hut mostly in one piece.
Mongrel suffered a large cut in his calves and Rowent a rib fracture along with the cut on his back. The Formless Shades liked to make sharpened claws as weapons. They were usually four-limbed but not limited to it and changed their forms at will.
‘Only the fourth hut. Still a long way to go.’ The distance from hut to hut was not constant. Some were days apart, others weeks. Using Mongrel’s pace.
The shadow creatures were getting stronger the closer they got to the device that was supposed to take them out of this place and back to where they came from.
Mongrel’s personal improvements were starting to rise exponentially. The skills he was learning were putting his own to shame every single day despite being at a low level.
It was impossible to hide it from Rowent but he didn’t try very hard other than the shadow manipulation. The fire mage didn’t know much about Mongrel to begin with. A new active physical skill or two wouldn’t stand out.
Even shadow magic wouldn’t stand out since Rowent couldn’t see well in the darkness. The man wouldn’t be able to tell who did what. In this manner, Mongrel managed to cast a shadow to halt the Formless Shade from diving into the depths of shadows. Allowing Rowent to begin incinerating them and gain levels.
A level or two didn’t make a big difference but every bit of strength was appreciated. The level gap also made it easy for Rowent to level and it would add up soon enough.
On the way to the fifth hut after partially healing up, Mongrel was once again rooted to the spot. Not right in front of the hut but in the middle of their path. This time, he managed to get a hold of himself.
The second youth was shouting like the middle-aged man, his face directed towards the sky as he cried out, "Hazel."
In contrast to the middle-aged man's ferocious roar, this young man's cry had a slightly less profound impact on Mongrel. But it stung him all the same.
Throughout the journey, Mongrel found out many things about Rowent that he never knew about. The fire mage did not appear as mature as he used to be. They shared and chatted whenever they were free. Mongrel kept silent most of the time but Rowent got talkative. Perhaps he didn’t like the awkward silence whenever they were on the run.
“Tired? Let’s rest a little longer.” Rowent proposed.
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In each of the huts were the same sandglass. They couldn’t move it but they were pretty sure it synced with all the other huts. They were moving faster than Rowent expected. Thanks to Mongrel covering more ground than he assumed.
“We’re traversed more than a third of the way there. But the distance from one hut to another increases from here.”
“Let’s get you to 300 before we move off. I have a bad feeling, my new skills need to be refined too.” Mongrel suggested.
They were ahead of schedule and could spare some time hunting around the hut. Being able to eat some of the weird things in the area made the food issue less prominent.
The inheritance he got never showed him the path ahead until he started making his way towards the next but the cry and yell echoed in him.
At least, he wanted to be able to evolve his body enhancement to tier 3. It should be possible with what he was shown. His personal Core Skill was relatively compatible. He felt like he could merge them. In fact, there were many skills in the inheritance that could outright take his current skill slots.
Skills like ‘Slash’ were not hard to override when a better variant was at his disposal.
It wasn’t easy to push Rowent up to 300 with just level 300 Formless Shades but Mongrel had gotten better and better at halting a large number of them for the fire mage to wipe out with a single blast.
His range of control had expanded and he could make use of the shadow mana in the surroundings. The middle-aged man’s Shadow Root was quite weak but the youths’ version was more mana-efficient and was easier to cast.
The Formless Shade was better than him but halting them for 0.2 seconds wasn’t that hard. With some practice, Rowent managed to time his cast right. The fire mage got the illusion that he had vastly improved in casting speed. Imagining that he could outspeed the Formless Shade when it was actually Mongrel’s work.
Three full weeks were spent, not in relaxation but in growing their strength.
Rowent was not quite 300 but he wasn’t gaining many levels even with thousands of these Formless Shades. It was not worth waiting any longer. They didn’t know what was to come and what kind of situation they would be slowed down by.
Because the next trip would be traversing some mountain range that stood in their way. It was a treacherous path that wasn’t limited to an unlimited number of Formless Shades but other creatures.
Mongrel made immense improvements and learned the ins and outs of his new Physique. Despite no mention of his endurance, he felt that he recovered from fatigue faster and got tired slower. There was a good chance it was thanks to the environment but it didn’t discount that it was thanks to his Physique that he was able to reap such benefits.
Another point to note was that Rowent’s complexion was getting paler. The man himself didn’t notice but it was very obvious to Mongrel that the surroundings were not kind to the normal human.
Unlike the area they’ve already traversed, the mountains were named. Or so they assumed. The map had written symbols that neither of them knew how to read or decipher. The three separate memories he had also didn’t tell him what the symbols meant.
Tearing a path open towards the mountains was pretty easy as they already knew how to counter the Shades.
Fortunately, Rowent was fully aware of his weakness and carried a bundle of fire mana ores. His staff could also convert his mana to fire mana which solved the issue of not being able to conjure fires. It was not even slower than a conjurer. The benefit of being financially supported was great equipment.
At the cost of a few filled Blues, they set their path ablaze. Did it attract unwanted attention?
It did.
But there was little to no difference when they were constantly surrounded by uncountable creatures.
Energetically charging into the dark mountain range, they didn’t notice that Rowent’s flames weren’t even half as bright after stepping in.
Mongrel’s sight was already accustomed to the darkness and Rowent couldn’t see far to begin with, even with his flames alight.
Instead of being flooded by Formless Shade, they were travelling almost unhindered. The amount of Shades they faced was cut down by at least 90%.
They unnerved both of them.
It was the first time the Shades decreased in numbers.
Mongrel saw that each of the three sets of memories he had went in different directions. With each taking a path and the selective presentation, he wasn’t sure which was the best. He was only allowed to see a few minutes ahead for each. Sure, the individuals would run about to join a certain path once they found out other paths didn’t work but it was getting confusing to him.
Mongrel bleached internally when he saw a new creature appear within his memories.
Identify didn’t work for the three individuals and he doubted his version would work.
He quickly made use of the three sets of memories to guide Rowent elsewhere.
There was one pattern. Even if a creature had been slain by one of the three sets of memories, everything that happens to them has always happened to the three individuals as well. Even the Formless Shades took on the same forms at the same time.
Mongrel quickly learned about the monsters that inhabited the mountain range. They all had forms. Some bipedal, most quadrupedal or more.
A silver lining for the comparatively sparsely populated mountain range was that there were probably areas to rest in and they could hold down camp if they were lucky.
However, Mongrel was once again hit by the third person or perhaps the first youth that appeared within his mind.
Similarly, the youth jumped into an attack. A quadruped gorged out an eyeball but the youth went insane and sliced every creature around in a flurry of shadows.
He rushed to an empty ground with no corpses and giggled. The giggle evolved into a mad laughter that echoed through the mountains.
‘What the-’
Mongrel didn’t have time to ponder as they were about to face their first new opponents. There were no other paths according to the memories he had and they had to pass through this valley.
They didn’t need to Identify to know that their opponents weren’t mere Masters.
He was right. Knowing another creature or person's rank or class was obvious. It was deeply seated within their bones and very souls. There was no need for a deep knowledge base to identify when another creature was superior.
The unknown creature was larger than a tiger. On all fours with thick claws and sharp fangs. The light from Rowent’s flames curved away from the creature.
Rowent didn’t see a difference between this creature and the Formless Shade and shot a large fireball without hesitation.
The creature shot back with a ball of darkness and washed over Rowent’s fireball.
Mongrel was already ready for the move as he knew the beast’s capabilities. He bit onto his sword and grabbed Rowent away. He didn’t expect the fireball to be overwhelmed but he was ready to pull Rowent away.
He watched a few copies of these beasts get slaughtered by the three figures in his mind before he acted. As expected, there was an order to his memories.
The middle-aged man was the most unfamiliar with the place and creatures. He faced the most danger and was in the worst conditions. The second person made use of the middle-aged man’s experience to get out of danger while the third used the memories to make the most of the situation.
It was a tough battle as neither his Shadow Root nor Rowent’s flames worked well but they managed to get the upper hand. Thankfully, the creature seemed to be a solo hunter. However, they didn’t manage to kill the beast as it ran off.
Mongrel quickly learned the true nature of these creatures. They weren’t solo hunters at all.
The first simply learnt their tricks and power.
What came next was constant harassment that exploited all their weaknesses. The creature was part of a group that attacked them whenever they were in trouble or resting.
Miserably, they were bloodied and exhausted just a quarter through the mountain range.
The fire mage couldn’t run anymore.
Mongrel didn’t have the strength to fight while piggybacking a weakened mage.
An exhausted mind made it impossible for the mage to cast a proper spell.
The ghastly hunters never left them alone. They never let them get more than a wink of sleep. The humans barely had time to gulp a nutrition potion down in peace.
Mongrel was also grasping his last straws.
A bunch of new skills and old memories helped him get this far but they were not invincible. He was not invincible. No matter how fast he picked up new skills and how fast they levelled, it wasn’t enough.
They were being toyed with.
Mongrel started to get desperate.
The subconscious notion within the depths of his mind started to surface.
‘But why?’
‘For what reason does he have to do this?’
His numbing muscles continued to swing and dice into the Shades and unknown creatures left, right and centre. His roped axe was practically part of his body already. Moving it after wrapping his shadow around it made it even more flexible and responsive than just his inherent mana.
Stumbling into a cave the second figure in his mind found, he put the unconscious fire mage down.
He bit his nails while tapping his one good foot and questioned, “Why?”
Within a minute, his head leapt to bite onto Rowent’s tattered and dirtied robe to swing the human aside. With a twitch of his neck, the mage was on his back as he sped away from the cave.
The bastards were toying with them. They couldn’t kill him easily but he couldn’t catch them off guard either.
‘Why did he have to throw Rowent down with me? What’s the purpose of doing such a thing?’ With every bit of his lacking imagination, throwing Rowent down here had been helpful in every case so far. It was counterproductive if this was meant to be a trial to make him stronger.
Until the fire mage couldn’t fling spells around.
Although his fire didn’t hinder the creatures in the mountain range as much as it used to, it was a massive advantage. With that gone, Mongrel had to face the complete superiority of these creatures' physical and magical prowess.
The mountains seemed to empower Mongrel even more than the empty plains. The lack of flames and Rowent being unconscious most of the time helped as well.
His skills experienced another explosive growth in the week to come.
Levels and refinements weren’t all that piled up.
He had reached his physical and mental limits long ago.
With injuries that couldn’t be held back by the lousy potions he carried it was already a miracle he made it more than halfway through the mountain range with an incapacitated mage on his back. Rowent woke up and helped carve a path for two days but was knocked out but sheer exhaustion once again.
The speedy improvements he underwent didn’t let him kill a single one of those predators of theirs. They slipped away every single time. His focus on Shadow Root didn’t help enough to stop their movements long enough to kill.
‘What’s the reason…why?’ Mongrel cared little for the physical torture or even the increase in power and capacity of his frame. The past week was a mental warfare of questioning Rowent’s presence or the old man’s reason for tossing them down together.
Mongrel didn’t manage to keep them both in one piece. As small of a piece he already was, one of his eyes was blinded. Crushed by blunt force, he could barely keep the other eye open. Even when he realised why the three figures took hits for ‘no reason’, Rowent was hurt by the force that destroyed both their bodies. His body wasn’t a shield, if he took a hit they would both be hurt.
He was surprised at how much blood he had lost but was still able to move. A Master Warrior was more sturdy than expected.
‘Is it petty revenge?’ Mongrel asked when the quadruped ripped at his back. He rolled away at the last moment, causing Rowent to wake up from pain.
‘Is it because the first man lost someone, he made his inheritor face the same problem?’ Mongrel’s shadowy axe swatted the beast back. He didn’t care about the first success of cutting a limb off. He didn’t even notice he managed to do that.
‘Are these men so petty?’ Another of these unknown creatures rammed into his belly.
‘So vengeful?’ They crashed into a hard rock. Their wounds were exacerbated. Rowent swept his staff in his stupor and the flamethrower blocked the quadrupeds from dining on them.
‘They want their inheritor to face the same pain?’ Mongrel’s stone mask blackened with his shadows unknowingly.
‘Is that it?’ Rowent was clawed at and flew off his back like a doll.
‘Is that the whole reason they sent Rowent with me?’ Mongrel’s mana exploded along and his tailed axe went into a frenzy when he leapt from one quadruped to another to stab and bite into them with his bare teeth.
His jaw strength was enhanced as he tore them apart the same way they did to him.
The same way another group of them were tearing into Rowent.
A few dozen of these quadrupeds fell here. Forever.
He knelt on his single knee.
In front of a mangled, incomplete body. Rowent didn’t have his staff, one of his arms, his legs and had his intestines spilling out, half bitten through. His face was surprisingly unchewed.
“Hey-”
Mongrel’s eye widened when Rowent spoke, he quickly fumbled for potions but a light tap landed on his hand. He put his hand over the weak tap gently. The hand tapping him didn’t have all its fingers.
“You’ve--matured, Chris.”
Mongrel was shakened. When did Rowent find out?
“Fergus…wouldn’t let it go but not us…I’m glad you didn’t let it swallow yo-” The mage’s fingers slipped from his hands.
“Wait! Don’t go!”
Mongrel wasn’t heard.
“Why?” Mongrel faced the dark, moonless, sunless sky.
In an oddly similar pose, he didn’t yell.
He didn’t cry.
He didn’t laugh.
“WHHHYYYYY!!!!” Mongrel bellowed and slammed his fist onto the ground, wasting a good chunk of his remaining mana. The slam did nothing to the ground or disturb Rowent’s corpse.
His wrathful expression spilt over to his stone mask, causing the mask to develop wrinkles. It was surprising that the mask had endured the past months.
“JUST BECAUSE YOU PEOPLE LOST SOMEONE I HAVE TO DO THE SAME TO TAKE INHERIT THIS CRAP! IS THAT IT, SICKOS?! HUH?! IS THAT REALLY IT?!”
Mongrel couldn’t come up with another conclusion since asking himself, why?
Those sick bastards, beginning with the middle-aged man, seemed to have made it a tradition of sorts. Despite the knowledge of the surroundings and the creature’s strength they let Mongrel see, that the outcome was the same. The invisible figures each of the three individuals had were just like Rowent. Unfairly tossed here.
The only difference was how far each of them could bring their partner away.
Barely halfway to their destination. That was Mongrel’s ‘record’.
The words of the old man who threw him here surfaced.
“Slay you? Fine by me, you better not die of old age!”
The final vestige of Chris faded away.