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Pathfinders
Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The young man in front of Owen shuffled awkwardly after greeting him. Since Owen only narrowed his eyes with suspicion, the man cleared his throat and added.

“I guess you don’t remember me. We did only see each other for a short time last night, and I’m pretty forgettable, so it’s not too surprising.”

Eyes widening with understanding, Owen sighed a breath of relief. Then, he relaxed his guard and replied, “Glad you’re not a robber or something, but…” Owen paused and warily eyed the rattila corpses scattered around. Then, he refocused on the man and asked, “What brings you here?”

“We~ll, about that,” the man stopped to chuckle awkwardly before continuing, “I was out hunting in order to put some meat on the table, but then a half-naked guy suddenly jumped in and attacked the prey I was about to fire an arrow at.”

Owen blinked. Was this guy attempting humor? He wasn’t very good at it. Either way, Owen scratched his head and said, “Sorry about that.”

The man frowned and rubbed the back of his neck while saying, “It’s alright. I guess that was a poor attempt at making you smile. You seemed upset, so… well, yeah.”

Without realizing it, the corner of Owen’s lips curled up, though only for a moment. Honestly, the young man’s intentions were clear as day. Rather, his naivety was a little excessive, wasn’t it?

“Thanks,” Owen muttered.

“Haha. You’re welcome.”

Now that his mind was calm on the surface, Owen realized that the movements of the man’s lips didn’t quite match the words coming out of his mouth. The incongruity made him feel uncomfortable. However, he suddenly thought to himself, Isn’t this a good chance to hear what the native language sounds like?

Thinking such, he lowered his head and used a mental command to temporarily shut off tutorial mode. A moment later, the man spoke again, but in a wholly unfamiliar tongue. Although the tone of voice was the same, the words themselves sounded like a slurred Latin-based language with a rhythmic flow to it. Owen pursed his lips since it was nothing like English. Learning it could wait until later. For now, he turned the tutorial mode back on just in time to hear the man asking a question.

“Oh, did you not hear me? Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Ah, yeah. I’m fine. Just got distracted for a moment.”

“Oh, I see. Um, well, I asked if you wanted to come back to my house again to rest. Feverclaw’s scratches aren’t something to pass off as a normal wound. I’m surprised you even got this far without collapsing.”

Raising a brow, Owen glanced at the pus-stained bandages wrapped around his chest and asked, “Feverclaw is… that witherbear?”

“Yeah, the one with scars on its face. He’s been a bit of a menace to the townsfolk recently, though he mostly stays in his own turf.”

“And there is something in his claws?”

“Yeah. Makes people sick, whatever it is. Local apothecary brewed a fairly effective antidote a few moons ago, though. Anyway, enough about that monster. You need rest.”

“I don’t want to intru- Ah, right, I left my sword there.”

“Well, that’s two reasons to come, then.”

Owen sighed. Although he didn’t like the idea of turning to a stranger for help, especially for a second time, he wasn’t exactly in a state where he could confidently refuse. That being said, he reluctantly replied, “Sure. Just give me a moment to catch my breath.”

“No problem,” The man said. Without a hint of wariness, he sat down cross-legged a few meters away. Then, his eyes lit up as though he remembered something. A grin appeared on his lips as he added, “I’m Silas, by the way. You got a name, or should I just call you the half-naked hobo like the kids?”

Owen’s brows instantly furrowed as he retorted with, “Who’s a hobo?”

“Haha. That’s just the impression of one of the younger boys named Theo.”

“Tch. Well, whatever. My name’s Owen, and rather than a hobo, I’m more of… an unwilling traveller? Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Silas’ smile faded a little. Perhaps he interpreted extra meaning from those words, considering his next sentence was, “I see… Well, everyone’s got their own circumstances.”

Uninterested in resolving any misunderstanding, Owen rested his head against the tree trunk and lifted his gaze to the forest canopy. Leaves rustled in the silence until he muttered, “I guess I should at least bury all these animals…”

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“About that,” Silas interjected, “do you mind if I take a few of the kangas you killed?”

“Go for it. Not like I’ve got the ability to do anything with them.”

“Did your pare- erm… did you never learn how to process animals?”

Owen eyed Silas with subdued curiosity. Somehow, the guy thought to refrain from delving into the topic of family. Perhaps he was more perceptive than his attitude suggested. While thinking such, Owen answered, “No. Hunting for food wasn’t normal where I came from.”

“Want to learn? It’s a useful skill.”

Scratching his chin, Owen replied, “I’ll feel even more indebted, but I can’t really pass up that offer, so sure.”

“Do you feel well enough to carry a kanga or two? I want to retrace our steps to gather any of the ones scavengers haven’t gotten to yet.”

“Maybe one or two.”

Silas grinned and remarked, “There’s your repayment, then.”

Once again, the man somehow managed to make Owen’s lips to curl upward slightly. Thoughtfulness such as this was rather uncommon back in the metropolis he had been whisked away from. Back there, second guessing any stranger was normal. Helping a stranger would be looked on with suspicion. Something about the simplicity and purity of Silas’ actions and words warmed Owen’s heart, though he was too stubborn to let that show.

“Oh, and one other thing. I was wondering why you didn’t collect the leftover spirit energy from the corpses.”

Owen raised a brow. Was this about collecting experience, or something similar? It sounded like it.

Noticing Owen’s confusion, Silas hummed and scratched his cheek. Then, he asked, “Did no Pathwalkers go back to where you’re from during the return?”

The question only added to Owen’s confusion. Was Silas referring to players?

Silas’ brows furrowed at Owen’s expression, so he followed up by asking, “Do you not know who Pathwalkers are?”

“No, I know about Pathwalkers, but I think my understanding of them is a little different than yours,” Owen answered while giving much thought to each word. Hoping to figure out the situation a bit better without revealing too much about himself, he vaguely explained, “You’re right that there were no Pathwalkers from my area. I thought they would come to this world or something.”

“Huh. It seems no Pathwalkers got sent out from your area… or maybe you weren’t aware of it? But, yeah, some will be coming from another world soon. Raylea just got the notice from the Capital a fortnight ago.”

The young man’s face scrunched up as though he wanted to ask many things, but he eventually sighed and his expression relaxed. On the other hand, Owen rubbed his chin while wondering what the topic of Pathwalkers had to do with the supposed spirit energy. Moments later, Silas answered his question without him needing to ask.

“If no Pathwalkers returned to your area, it’s no wonder you didn’t learn anything about Spirit Arts or spirit energy. Luckily, my dad was a Pathwalker, and he taught me as much as he could before succumbing to illness.”

Briefly, Silas paused, and Owen nodded in understanding. He quickly connected the dots. It seemed Pathwalkers got sent out from all worlds. What was with the Pathwalkers game then? However, his thoughts didn’t prevent him from noticing the sadness in Silas’ eyes when he mentioned his late father. Although the young man spoke the words as though it was a completely normal thing, he obviously missed his dad. Owen could relate to that more than he would have liked.

Resuming his explanation, Silas said, “Basically, when the Pathwalkers returned to Yotun, they taught everyone how to utilize Spirit Arts to an extent. A lot of the information was quickly gobbled up by governments and kingdoms, though our Legauria is better than most for helping citizens learn about it. If it wasn’t for my dad, though, I wouldn’t even know how to grow.”

“So absorbing the leftover spirit energy in corpses is something they brought back?”

Silas nodded. “Some people can’t figure out how to do it even though it’s common knowledge, but since my dad taught me, I try to help others learn as well.”

For a few seconds, Owen stared at the young man with a raised brow. Did this kid not know how to be selfish? Either way, it didn’t matter as long as he learned the proper way to level up here. He started to feel a little impatient.

“How do I do it?”

“Just touch the corpse and focus. You should feel something like a tickle. If you don’t, try closing your eyes.”

Owen nodded and slowly rose to his feet, groaning due to how much his muscles had stiffened. Then, while trudging over to the nearest rattila corpse, he said, “I’ll be ready to go after this. Don’t want my muscles to freeze up any more.”

“Alright.”

After hearing Silas’ approval, Owen kneeled over the closest corpse and placed a hand on it. At first, he didn’t feel anything, so he closed his eyes and focused on his hand. Shortly after, he noticed the ‘tickle’ that Silas had mentioned. It was more like a continuous yet subdued static shock. Behind him, he heard Silas speak again.

“Did you feel it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. My dad told me to imagine that I was eating that feeling, almost like sucking in water through a tube.”

Although the explanation was vague, Owen could think of many ways to describe it. He basically needed to become a vacuum cleaner. The image made him chuckle. He refocused on the strange energy and felt a tingling sensation in his arm. Contrary to his expectations, the energy quickly transferred over to him. It was like osmosis. He was an empty vessel, a void. By now, he changed his thoughts of becoming a vacuum to becoming a black hole. It was the strongest suction force he could imagine. A moment later, he realized he could not absorb any more of the energy. Instead, he focused on the barely noticeable current carrying it up through his arm. The current was slow, like molasses inching through a straw. Eventually, it reached his torso, and circled his ribcage once before settling near his heart. As though to verify the experience, a small screen appeared before him. He opened his eyes and glanced at it.

17 So-Uhl (Exp.) Obtained.

Immediately, Owen grinned. This was definitely the way to level up he had missed before. Interestingly enough, experience seemed to be called something else now. Was it based on the language here? He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. This minute amount of energy was his first step toward becoming a true Pathfinder and returning to Earth.