Andrew didn't know how long he had been out for, but when he woke up the sun was shining directly overhead, its rays overbearingly hot and added a few more marks upon his skin with the collection of self-inflicted burns. What was once unblemished and pale skin now spotted a series of pockmarks like scars and sunburns. He cast an [Heal] on himself and watched the redness fades some and his blisters subsided. It didn't prevent the small hiss of pain that came from a tentative touch of his finger on the area though.
His throat was dry and his breathing was accompanied by a sharp pain in his side. Hopefully, just a strained muscle rather than anything broken or fractured. He wasn't sure if his healing would be able to save him if it was, but he spent all the mana he had regained overnight on it anyways and the pain quickly disappeared like a mirage.
"God that hurts," he whined as he slowly got up from the pile of dirt and twigs he used as a makeshift bed last night, picking out dry leaves from his inky black hair as he did. A mental check on his current skill list almost made him go into what would've been an hour-long rant. He briefly remembered something along the lines of a level up, but it turned out he only gained 2 levels in running, and to be frank, he didn't even know what he gained. There was no convenient skill description for him to read, no neat floating blue screen, just a dull and boring name along with a seemingly arbitrary number
"Fucking goblins, aren't they supposed to be weak? Sheesh, I can't believe I almost died to something like tha-" suddenly his side that he had recently healed throbbed in pain as Andrew's knees collapsed beneath him. He clutched his side as if he was shot with a painfully tight grip, mindless of how his nails dug deep enough to break the skin as he shook and gasped for his breath and trying desperately to not lose his last meal, eyes glassing over as he recalled last night's fuck up in detail.
He... Could've died. Actually died. Holy fuck, this wasn't a joke.
Remembering the feeling of how easily the thing's claws sliced into his ribs as if a butcher carving up a steak almost made him feel physically sick. The warmth of his blood flowing out onto his shirt. The taste of iron as he fell running, crawling really, away from it underneath a fallen log. The fear and desperation came crashing into him all at once as he shook chilled to his core despite the blistering heat overhead.
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He didn't know how long it was it took until he finally snapped out of his trance, it might've been 5 minutes, or 5 hours as far as he was concerned, but he knew he couldn't stay like this any longer. Not to say he was fully over his recent near-death experience, but he wasn't so leisurely as to be able to hold himself inside until the bad things went away. Considering his situation, they never will.
He crawled out from his makeshift shelter consisting of a dozen branches forming a slanted roof against a large boulder he'd found.
He didn't feel up to leaving again after his disastrous last venture, but he also knew that if he faltered here, it would become a dark shadow that would haunt him. He'd keep making up excuses and the lingering fear will grow until it became a crippling trauma. Even as he got up he found himself jumping at shadows, seeing the creature in all the vast greenery around him, a bloody thirsty grin on its hideous face, a mocking laughter ringing in his ears.
Oh, he knew damn well it was all in his head. It wasn't real, and the creature was hardly as large as his mind was tricking him into seeing. He knew all too well it wasn't real, however, that didn't stop him from feeling the all too real raw fear.
Still, he carried on as he knew he must. Pointedly ignoring the shaking in his arm where 3 fresh scars stood out as a reminder of his failure. He carefully trudged to the nearby stream to get a drink and clean himself as well as he could. His shirt had now become rags full of holes and stained with grass, mud, and no small amount of his blood. His pants thankfully were in better condition.
Staring at his reflection in the murky water, no longer was there a dashing youth with a bright future in front of him, medical books in hand and dressed in the latest fashion. No, it has only been a week yet what his reflection showed him was a halfassed Tarzan with only a third of the physique of the original. Dirty, weak, lanky Andrew Greyson, all of the lack of hygiene with none of the wild masculinity and strength.
A deep scowl carved itself into his youthful face as he dwelled on his failure and weakness. Never again, didn't he try his best all these years to make something of himself? To rise above his apparent station in life and crawl out of the drudges and discrimination of the slums? He'll never be helpless again, and he'll certainly not let himself be ruled over his fear of a shitty goblin.
Perhaps anger was clouding his better judgment, but it gave him the drive needed to move on past this little hick up. Which was how he found himself stalking the woods once more, smearing copious amounts of mud and dirt upon himself until every inch of him was practically plastered in the stuff to mask his smell and as rudimentary camouflage. Hours passed and the sun has well gone down by now, yet he didn't stop. The memory of his desperate sprint through the forest burned brightly within his mind as he slowly retraced his steps to scour around the area of his first encounter.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
It was cold and windy, yet the rage within his chest kept him warm as he gripped his freshly retrieved spear. It was apparent the Gods hadn't fully forsaken him as he quickly found his quarry resting on its stomach beneath the hollow of a tree along with 4 others. It was clear that it was their base as he could briefly see the piles of bones and strange fruits left inside the burrow. He knew exactly which one it was because of the slight injuries he had given it during his struggle. Unlike him with his healing magic, it seems these things had a sort of natural regeneration or healing ability because it only took a day for its cuts to close even if still red.
As he watching them slumber, the slow rising of their chest with every breath, he only felt more and more anger, yet his heartbeat slowed to match theirs. He had no intention to trade his life for one of theirs. Rushing in might've given him the advantage of surprise but he would've only been able to take one or two down before they spring on him. No, such a thing would be the height of foolishness.
He'd be back, he vowed to himself beneath the pale moonlight as he disappeared back within the darkness, now that he found their nest, their days were numbered.
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"I need a plan..." Andrew has always liked to be organized and meticulously schedule his day, it gave him a much-needed sense of control over his life. This was why the current situation irked him so much, there simply wasn't enough information given to formulating a proper course of action. His given goal was to save the world, but how was he supposed to go about that..? Sure, gathering companions, grow stronger, and defeat the demon lord sounded simple and straight forward enough, but frankly, he was stuck at the starting line. How does he use the strange powers he was given? What even was it? It was arguably his only and strongest tool and yet he didn't have a clue on how to properly wield it.
Andrew needed to test it, a prospect he was decidedly not looking forward too. With nobody else with him, he could only go with trial and error with himself as the lab rat. Which meant getting hurt and healing himself. A lot. And with his curious nature and perfectionist attitude, that meant understanding and trying everything from mundane to idiotically implausible just in case he was given a pleasant surprise. God, this was going to be a long day, and it was only half-past 8.
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10 hours of absolute misery and borderline sadomasochistic self-abuse later, and he came to a single conclusion. He did not understand what the fuck the Goddess had given him. Was all magic this utterly illogical? Even on the same wounds, the result of [Heal] seemed to change without rhyme or reason. Sometimes it was as if the injuries disappeared without a trace, other times they left scars or blood. He's sure he had bled enough to make himself anemic by now, and yet he was still no closer to comprehending how to use it properly. The only thing he confirmed was it didn't drain his physical stamina to use, nor did it require calories.
Which was honestly pretty mind-blowing. Where does the energy or material for the regrowth of his flesh come from? Did the spell convert my mana directly into flesh? Did it accelerate my natural healing to a ridiculous degree? Did it rewind time? Pull the molecules from an alternate dimension? Seriously what the fuck? "Matter can not be created nor destroyed", that was basically the first rule of science everyone learned, and yet this seemed to spit in the face of it. A morbidly curious part of his mind wondered if this meant he could just survive off of eating himself, like a fucked-up ouroboros. Was there a loss in energy or nutrient? Did he have an energy surplus in this situation? Was mana a self-perpetuating machine?
There were so many questions he had, but none he could get, at least not without potentially killing himself to find out, and he wasn't that curious, thank you very much. Still...
Without the clutch of a helpful System guided Skill, and no idea how to acquire one, Andrew decided to buckle up and do things the old fashioned way. Building up his body and doing what he can.
Which is how he now found himself sweating buckets doing all manner of exercises half-naked, and consuming copious amounts of questionably edible food and frankly random stuff he found growing nearby. The Occasional glow of [Heal] ensuring that he didn't tear any muscle, or even if he did he would be able to keep going.
At first, it absolutely sucked. Heck, even now he would swear it sucked major balls, but he has gotten into the routine. 8 Am, wake up, wash up, eat questionable fruit number one and lots of water. 8:30, gather and carefully scout the area, work on the fence surrounding the home. 10:30-12:00 Shadowboxing, tree climbing, swimming, running, push-ups, sit-ups, squats. 12:00-3:30 Crafting and expanding on shelter. This was where he mostly experimented with methods of making tools and making his home base more habitable. Afterward, he just repeats his exercise regimen until the sun starts going down and he stalks the Goblins to ensure they haven't moved and observed their habits.
Which basically consists of eating, sleeping, shitting, and occasionally- throwing said shit at other things for fun like birds.
His poison resistance was going up really fast. Was it because it was low leveled and a low tier skill? Or was the things he eating just really that bad? He didn't know, but none of his other skills were going up nearing as fast.
[Minor Poison resistance Lv. 8]
[Stealth Lv. 3]
[Heal Lv. 2]
[Run Lv. 6]
Still, he didn't gain anything new even with all the efforts into trying out so many different activities. Thinking about it drove him mad, and so he simply decided to ... well... Not?
He'll just have to try out everything, no matter how stupid or silly. Every bit of power and info counted when he literally had none. On the bright side, he was pretty sure his "mana" or whatever powered his [Heal] was increasing. He didn't get nearly as fatigued as he used to when using it, and could now use it one whole more time before he reached his limit! That's a total increase of 25%! Amazing, he knows. Of course, it was pretty easy to improve that much when he could only use it 4 times before, but it was the little things like these that kept him from going mad.