The old white oak provided plenty of shade, and a crook in the roots was a perfectly comfortable resting place. The skies were clear and the sun shone down.

I could feel the warmth on my skin. It registered differently than in the game, and I hadn't gone hiking or just relaxed outside in ages. The sunbeams striking my skin, it really made me feel like I should...well, you know.

A little bit about myself before moving on, in particular about venerating the sky-orb. I was a role player in VR games-I could take ridiculous actions that real life wouldn't allow. I love making characters that seem contradictory, so naturally I made a good-seeming cleric who was evil at heart(But less greedy than a Sun Knight). What cleric would radiate pure goodness more than one of the sun? And if you worship the sun, well all you can do then is find your brothers and praise it.

But I can get very into my role. If I was tired, I would sometimes slip into character, which isn't as embarrassing as it sound. It took some effort, but I managed to cultivate a deep and attractive voice for the cleric. Even so, I had to worry about the character’s personality appearing in reality.

I don't have multiple personalities, it’s just poor impulse control. The personality was made for having fun, but it wasn’t appropriate to maliciously mislead people in reality.

Now this was reality. If I praised the sun too much, I felt I might fall back into old habits. Escorting people to a zone far too dangerous for them and leaving them to die was not the image I wanted anymore.

Heroes were nice too.

That's why I relaxed in the shade, avoiding the pleasure of the sun. An easygoing hero resting in the laurels, that's the image I went for.

Of course, I wasn't strictly lazing about, there was also the matter of mana regeneration. Without a way to measure time, the measure would be guesswork based on guesswork. Still, it would be important to get a feel for it.

Mana regeneration in game was decided by Intelligence and Wisdom, and potentially other stats depending on your class. 1 mana per 10 minutes per point of Wisdom and half that rate for Intelligence, on top of a base percent rate. That gave me 2.9 mana per minute.

Curiously enough, my mana regenerated faster than the correct amount of time. Having theoretically used 12 mana, it should have taken around 3 minutes, but instead the time felt shorter than that, very quickly refilling. This was in addition to feeling as though the spell had consumed more mana than it should have.

It was…good news, objectively speaking. But knowledge is power, and my predictions were way off. Developing new calculations was going to be a bummer, especially without an accurate timepiece.

I had another goal though, to observe the road. I wanted to know more about the world, was I in high, low or dark fantasy? Magitech or steampunk? Was I in the last remnants of nature in a futuristic world?

Judging by the trees and weather, the area got several inches of rain per month, maybe around three or four. With the ruts on the road, it was definitely one that experienced quite a bit of traffic, although less so in recent times. Given the edges, it was also fairly new. My theory was it was a road built to a new village of city.

Are you wearing a dubious look on your face? I did not merely look these things up after the fact to enhance my image in this tale. When I used to be an outdoorsman, I spent time trailblazing, with the sledgehammer being my favorite tool. Anyhow, I have a good deal of knowledge about the wilderness. Though it decreased over time, once I found myself in the new world, I was beginning to remember things. The usage of the road being just one thing I was able to determine.

Waiting on the hill, I saw a man drive by in a small single-horse cart. He wore a rough tunic and breeches, and the back of his cart was filled with wooden barrels. When he noticed me he waved. I waved back.

This world seemed quite friendly!

But one man only makes a sample size of one. This was not enough to draw any inferences other than the time period was likely medieval; unless I happened to wander into a large scale ren-fair.

More travelers passed every 30 minutes to an hour. In between I practiced most of my magic.

Honestly, there weren't many since I was but Level 1. The most important were , , , and . This list does not include my specialty, but practicing necromancy in the open seemed unwise.

The consumption of energy for all of the spells seemed too high. Or perhaps my maximum mana had lowered? That would explain the faster than expected rate of recovery. No, then the expected recovery time would be longer...this was troublesome.

A sat on the ground, hopefully unobtrusively. I was unaware if magic existed here and how its practitioners were treated. I couldn't just not use magic though.

So unobtrusively I cast the majority of my spells. During which I discovered some things.

and both had similar Spell Shapes; they were both rather linear. Not like a line though, more like a conglomeration of rods.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I theorized that certain elements would have different qualities that persisted through all of their spell shapes. Experimentation needed to come at a later date though, magical backlash was not an impossible result from such activities.

While examining the shapes, I also developed, or perhaps merely discovered an ability. It wasn’t necessary to put the mana into the spell immediately.

Of course this was more or less an academic realization. I only needed to think for the spell to form. It did lead to me being more conscious about the flow of my mana, so there were benefits.

As I played about holding back my mana and envisioning spell forms, some figures appeared on the horizon. At first, I didn't pay them any particular mind; I simply stopped forming spells and relaxed. Drawing closer, their lean forms became more clear.

Point-ears!

I have an arbitrary grudge against those slender tree-huggers. Once upon a time I wanted a character of mine to have an overbearingly strong trait. My passionate hate for the creatures was so entertaining that it followed me for the rest of my gaming career, and now into this world.

This world which had point-ears! Even though I despised them, it signaled that this would be high fantasy! No doubt the stout would make an appearance at some point as well.

Leaf-lickers usually found themselves to be adept at magic, there would be a good chance that a mage would be among them. As they approached I cast .

The range didn't cover my whole vision, it only stretched about 20 meters forward. This thankfully meant a small stretch of the road was in my sights.

The most that could be done in this situation would be glancing over them. But it would be enough for now.

There were seven of them, and as they moved closer my face frowned. I definitely felt something wrong in the air. Could it be killing intent? If such a thing existed in this world, I doubt I would be sensitive to it. Following my gut was something to do for entertainment, I never really trusted it. But there was still an unexplainable sense of unease in the air.

Doing my best to appear to be resting casually, I activated the spell when they got close to the area I would be able to view. I did my best to not look too long at the point-ears; though they seemed to be traveling peacefully, my magic revealed what could only be described as madness.

None were dressed as a mage, but every one of them had a weapon that would qualify as mid-tier in Underworld. Mid-tier comprised levels 300-500. I was Level 1.

If this had been all, I would have been merely wary of drawing their ire. Though from their packs I could sense something far surpassing their weapons.

The texture of the magics spoke of confinement at a magnitude difficult to comprehend. Being entombed in the center of the earth would hardly cause such an oppressive feel. The sensation of captivity irked my soul.

Luckily the magic was mixed with something more tolerable, a comfortable feeling in fact. A still winter’s night, chilling and silent. This magic was much easier to sense for me, so much so that my mind picked out something odd.

It felt cool, smooth and dry, like the surface of a cut gem. Only present in one of the concealed items, this presence seemed like it was suffering under the cold magic I found comfortable.

I can only describe the next part as the thing latching onto me. Remaining still, the leaf-lickers were slightly past me, but I didn't want them to turn around. Internally, the situation felt dire. Had I managed to uncork some ancient evil by accident?

My mind seemed to remain my own, unless it was subtle or already a copy of me, I hadn't been possessed. Instead, the gem-like presence seemed to attach itself to me like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.

If it weren't for the presence of the tree-huggers I would have laughed mirthlessly. This situation was terrible, and yet too perfect at the same time. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

The turn of events could be an ill omen. Whatever this thing that attached itself to me was, the point-ears had clearly kept it carefully contained, to the extent that they used magical items as decoys. Even if it wasn't dangerous, it might draw hostile attention.

Of course it was also more than I could have ever hoped for. This was practically the next best thing after finding a damsel in distress or being blessed by some goddess! This sort of narrative fulfillment made me think of wandering trunks and librarian apes.

So despite my ominous premonitions about the situation, I couldn't be more content. The situation appeared favorable, as the pale pansies continued on with their journey, apparently oblivious to me rescuing their captive. They spared not a glance towards me and they passed into the distance.

Time to get up. While I would love to keep practicing magic and learn more about the world before risking myself, staying was foolish. It would only be a matter of time before it was discovered that something was amiss. Even though they hadn't sensed anything, more distance would be better.

Stretching out my sleeping legs, I headed out in the opposite direction of the point-ears. The journey was about to begin in earnest!