L walked out of the stable slightly disoriented, hitting the humidity of the outside as if it was a wall. He felt weary and nauseous, and his left hand felt like a bloated balloon. For the exception of the rag covering it, its shape was relatively normal. Below the thick cloth, however, his hand was in a state of limbo; his skin consisted purely of a thick layer of dark mana combined with the remains of his skin, and below that, the flesh and nerves were all slowly being melted into distilled, condensed dark mana that would stick to his bones.
A staff, that was the thing L was creating. His hand would attract the dark mana in the vicinity with its high density and therefore high gravitational force, and his bones would act as the siphon that would either allow him to either pump that mana directly into the rest of his body, or simply direct the mana in his left hand more easily. It was a pretty clever idea, to cut the expensive and inefficient middle-man, but it was an idea he could not take credit for. Most mana creatures, such as elementals and druids are built in similar fashion, and a little digging into the anatomy of those creatures and a basic knowledge of how mana works will similarly lead to the same common conclusion. Many other divers with similar body functions have done it before, and it left L slightly a bit annoyed that he could not improve on it much. Null doesn't seem to care to change its mechanics from other worlds, after all, there is only so much you can do to change something without making it unwieldy or inarticulate.
L put his hand out of his mind, or rather, out from his consciousness, and allowed his minds to take over the recreation process. It was somewhat convenient, that he could do that, otherwise, he would have had to stay holed up in that dingy room for the rest of the miserable day. He strolled towards the usual meeting spot, and noticed some of the village women who were hanging their clothes to dry looking at him with interest, more specifically at his left hand. L smiled and waved at the more blatant of them-- using the covered hand. He received a mixed response; some skittered away awkwardly, while others scowled at him.
When L reached the usual meeting spot, Braj too looked at him oddly.
“What’s with the hand?” both said, in unison.
Braj frowned while L smirked. “How is the wooing going?” he said, catching the piece of warm bread thrown at him with his right hand.
“Great!” he said, smiling widely, then raised a brow “...I think. Are you sure I’m not readin’ too much into this?”
“You know how to read?” L asked, raising both of his brows.
“Yes, I know how to read!” Braj said. “I need it for my archite-”
“Then what are you so distraught about?” L said, his eyes half opened. What an idiot, L thought as Braj rambled on. Only people of higher birth would know how to read. No wonder you aren’t liked in a village of pheasants when you speak like that. Fool.
“That’s fine,” L replied, not paying attention to what he said. “You know of woman, do you not? They’ll never reveal their emotions through any matter that does not use subtle hints and deceit. You need to know what she wants and means without hearing it.” Braj did not look completely convinced, so L went on “She likes to dominate, too, so don’t expect her to be bold with her feelings initially.”
“I understand,” Braj said, which was odd, considering L was speaking nonsense. “Tomorrow afternoon is the day, right?”
“Yes, so keep it up,” L said, and then began to dig into the bread. He waved his other away hand as he left.
“B-But-” Braj stammered on, his lips quivering.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Oh deal with it. You’re a man, aren’t you?” L interjected. He simply did not have the mind to talk to Braj, and a little bit of doubt should make him ripe for harvesting soon. “See ya.”
“Goodbye,” he said sadly with slumped shoulders.
L walked with a slight grimace. Sweat was wetting his dirty woolen tunic as he walked in the sun, his back and buttocks already covered in it. He tried not to glanced at his hand, as the pain was nearly unbearable. Only by not paying any heed to it could he walk without moaning about having his flesh dissolving. He did not have the privilege of ordering his mana to cut off the pain sensors in everything below his wrists, as sadly, mana did not function in such a specific way and minute way.
The throbbing retained itself to be a vixen, even when he did do his best to disregard it, and would probably heighten if L would to swing an ax with it. He needed an excuse to get out of work today, something which, unsurprisingly, L was great at making.
As he walked the gates, however, one of the guards abruptly lowered their halberds to the side, stopping L.
“Hey mutant,” he said, and spit to the side.
“Hey giant-speaking-multiple-pieces-of-armor,” L instantly responded, somewhat distracted by a pimple growing on the man’s chin. The two guards were unfamiliar to L. The one he was speaking was by far the largest, standing at nearly an inhuman 7 feet level with fat covering his face and dirty hair growing all over his face, while the other was a normal sized man in his late twenties, who oddly enough did not wear any armor, and only had a small sword at his side. His clothes, however, were of high quality and were valued much more than any villager can afford, or any simple guard, even.
“What?” he said, raising his cheeks in disgust, which made his pimple move slightly.
“You’re in a giant piece of iron, but you still have no irony, freak? If we’re in the habit of calling people out by what they look like, then giant-speaking-multiple-pieces-of-armor, is fitting, no? Or should Have I added ugly in there?” L asked, huffing. “How many Barbarians did your mother bed, for your thick skull to come out? And what hole did you come out of, say? Your face looks like what an unloved troll would shit out after eating someone’s balls.”
The guard was faster than he looked. L expected him to raise his eyebrows, to open his mouth wide in surprise, to stutter back at L's insolence, but it seemed like enough similar insults were thrown at him for this to be second nature. With one hand, he brought the halberd to his chest, catching it with the other. He then, while taking a foot forward, lifted the halberd into the air with the force of his shoulders and then swung it diagonally, with all the power of his upper torso and quads.
L barely had time to let a single giggle out before the wind exerted by the slash ruffled his hair. He had stepped forward, under the strike, and skitted the guard's armor with his clothes as he bent his body to fill in through the opening. The ground slightly shook as the ax on the halberd dug into the dirt. Smiling uncontrollably, L took a few steps back, staying within the halberd’s range, but far enough to turn tail if needed.
The guard tightened his hold on the staff and took a step with his other foot. Even under the iron and fat covering him, L could see his muscles bulging as he lifted the halberd from the sunken earth. He turned his head before his body, somehow making him more menacing. His eyes bulged noticeably as his mismatched teeth were barred. He breathed in through his nose like a bull, but did not say a thing. The other guard, however, did. “We are direct servants of the Empire Jundor Empire, immortal. Be warned that disrespecting us is disrespecting the Empire, which is in grounds of the highest form of punishment.”
“You consider that a warning?” L said, and through the stifled laughs, he nodded at the inches wide and deep slash in the ground.
“Yes,” he replied, eyes cold and disinterested. “If Sir. Braum had truly desired to harm you, he could have simply pushed down with his halberd, instead of swinging it, and crushed you underneath his weight.”
L relaxed his muscles, placing a finger to his lip. He looked up in thought, and then, seconds after, shrugged. “Sounds reasonable enough. Do you require something of me?”
“We do not. Luke does. You can speak with him in the newly erected town hall. It’s slightly larger than the other houses,” the guard responded, and then turned his dispassionate eyes to inspect his nails.
“I have lumberjack duties to attend to,” L said with discomfort. He was not expecting this to occur, and anything L did not expect to occur was rarely a pleasant ordeal.
“I’m sure they’ll understand that whatever the head guard of the village desires is of more...” he said, sighing deeply in the middle of his sentence, “ ...vital importance than whatever the trees require of you.”
L stood there for a while, watching as the other guard, presumably Braum, fully turn towards him. He stabbed the dirt with the round heel of his halberd. The tip of the spear barely reaching his chin. He glared at L, his nose still arched and his large teeth still showing. “Arrr,” L said, frowning, “Might there be any other entrance to the village?”
“Worry not, as long you keep your mouth shut, Braum won’t swing at you,” the guard said. Then, as L started to walk forward, he added “...probably,” and shrugged carelessly. He went back to inspect his nails.
Adrenaline began to pump fiercely inside L's veins.