He tried to concentrate on his prayers but his mind would wander to different tangents instead. How should he improve his practice or how should he test the mechanisms within the spell modules? Trying to banish these thoughts proved unsuccessful as a haze covered his mind. He felt exhausted despite brimming with energy.
He finished his prayers feeling distasteful due to being unable to concentrate.
It was difficult to sleep. He changed sides, postures, everything that came into his mind but sleep seemed to be unwilling to allow him in its embrace. His mind was overly active and without even knowing when his thoughts spiraled towards all the events that had taken place since he had come in here. There were a few things that were consistent throughout, pain and advancement. He wondered why did he have to go through this all.
Had it been a bad call to try helping them. He had lost everything within a span of a night and had been rotting in the jail for years. Now he was out of the frying pan and into the fire, figuratively and literally. He rubbed his arms and even though they were completely fine asides from the scar he still felt it clearly. The memory was crisp in his mind as it reminded him. He clenched his teeth and tried focusing on other things, trying to forget the pain.
These last few floors were too large, too difficult. The constant pressure for survival bearing down upon him. Not even when he was in the hotspots of the terrorist had he felt so broken down by the circumstances. The years spent in jail had corroded him and even though he was forcefully pushing forwards now that he saw a ray of hope, the destruction within him slowed down briefly.
A wind somehow invaded the small space he had hidden in. Time passed and he was able to bury the thoughts and memories back in a corner of his mind. His eyes closed by themselves at some point.
***
He took out a war hammer from the inventory and a spear along with a morning star. They felt weirdly light. He still was unable to fully adjust as he exerted too much force on his strikes. The sharp noises proved that he was constantly executing what should have been really strong attacks that should drain out his stamina.
He cut off a creeper using it to tie the weapons around his waist. He ignited a torch and started wandering. The cycle had restarted.
Fight, experiment, rest, and repeat. The time passed and slowly he started understanding the flow of energy within himself. How the energy went into the reservoir when he replenished from the crystal and how it moved out when he cast the spells. The latter proved to be much easier to start understanding because of the barrier which automatically created a path connecting with the reservoir.
How did the energy travel through it? He inspected the path. Even though he had been assigning his attention to the matter, like always he could not even feel it when the spell was cast. The draw upon his energy was the only thing that made him privy to the matter.
As much as possible, he slowed the passage of energy within trying to figure out how it all occurred but in vain. More than 20 fights later and he still was not any closer to starting to figure it out so he changed the direction in which he was thinking.
How did this path get created? Along with the barrier. How was the barrier created? By casting the spell? How was the spell cast? Though the process seemed natural as though it required nothing he had observed something when he was testing these hypotheses. Whenever he was casting a spell, unconsciously and for a brief window of time, a connection was created with the spell module itself.
Connecting with the spell module he dived into the strange world that appeared within and tried to find the part that created the path connecting to the reservoir. Taking in a deep breath, he focused even more intently and then cast the spell. White. Then everything returned to how it looked.
The time passed with no results to show for it. He kept on trying though, hoping for some idea to pop into his mind that would make the process easier. Meanwhile, he kept on improving his usage of both spells.
He started experimenting with changing the energy usage of the spells at the time it was cast, just like he had accidentally executed when he had killed the boss on the 10th floor.
He had been looking at it frequently but he had been unable to replicate it until now. The spell module was still extremely foreign and he was unable to make any head or tail of it. He had been banging his head at it for so long but all he had achieved was some way to improve the target.
He prayed, asking for God’s help, and then started, haphazardly, tweaking the mechanisms within the spell module. It was the only solution because he was finally forced to accept that it was an unknown frontier and he could not accept results after trying for one or two days. All that remained behind was the raw repetition, observing the results and trying to improve them.
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His sense wandered the world filled with things on all sides. All seemed to be changeable, except any value that he randomly put it. Most of the time he simply did not see any results.
He became frustrated and so he got more and more daring, altering multiple mechanisms. The flame exploded as soon as it was created, the sparks hit him and everything around his vicinity. The fire burning around him intensified, the monster below him crying as both he and the monster burned. The monster tried moving but with its limits cut off and with its teeth broken, it found little success.
The fire on them intensified. His chest, limbs, and face were all burning, the skin melting, the meat below frying. His eyes were the first sense to be cut off, then his of pain as he could suddenly feel nothing. His hands moved, his throat uttering moans, touching the monster below and the suddenly pushed the dagger inward.
Everything was suddenly fixed, as usual.
15th floor. Another jump in difficulty. After stabilizing himself and praying he started moving. Every step seemed to be heavier than before and despite the complete silence or maybe because of it, he was feeling the pressure. His hands clenched each time he moved around a tree.
Blind spots, blind spots, and blind spots. That was what this forest could be summed down to. On the last few floors, he had been performing guerilla tactics, ambushing the monster groups by taking advantage of the fact that they were usually far away from one another. Here though the situation had changed. The previous experiences on the 5th and 10th floor made sure he was cautious and this caution placed him under a great deal of pressure so much so that it started affecting his senses.
Something pierced through his shoulder, fortunately, the bone was not hit. He came to his senses. A low hum filled the surroundings. His heartbeat as he ran and a constant ‘thud’ sound resonated behind him. In a panic, he looked around only to find darkness all around. A hum resounded. He ran. Arrows rained down, stabbing the earth where he should have been.
He forced his mind to calm down. Again the arrows fired coming down at a diagonal. His focus shifted to the top. He started tracing the paths of the arrows. They had to be near. In this place, it was impossible to attack from even a meter or two away. Taking out his knives he prepared to climb the trees, dodging another volley.
His knife stabbed into the tree and from all around the monster attacked. A barrier appeared, the energy focused upon his back. They attacked, their weapons melting as the energy within was quickly eaten up. Then the hum resounded. He jumped, stabbing both knives into the bark. He jumped to a nearby tree coming face to face with a monster. Its bow pointed at him. He jumped, ricocheting off the trees dodging the attack, and trying to come back. He could not close in, its arrow always honed in on him. A flame bloomed hitting the monster as soon as it fired.
The monsters were crawling up the trees from below, he threw his knives but they easily dodged the attacks. The archers kept on changing their direction relative to him, making it difficult to approach him, a task made only more difficult as the close combat fighters now harassed him. He tried to get rid of them but then the constant barrage of arrows did not allow him to get closer to the monster.
Again the flame flew towards the monster which kept its distance. Before the arrow could fire it exploded, the sparks flying with high speed at the monster. It dodged. The spark exploded upon the moss. Arrow flew at him, he jumped satisfied at finally breaking the status quo. Its arm burning the monster was unable to hold for long, falling. He hounded after it only stopping after killing it.
He was constantly running, letting his arms rest while the fighter came down after him. He changed his direction, rushing, his spear ready for the strike. The blade swung, the head flying off. He suddenly squatted, the arrows hitting the disintegrating body.
He bit onto the crystal feeling the pain. He cut the front half of the arrow and with one swift motion pulled out the part penetrating his flesh. The problematic ones were the archers, the fighters, he was well versed with after fighting thousands of them. He bit on the crystal, running to avoid another volley. Finding a rooted covering he escaped inside, quickly lighting up a fire and burning the fresh wound.
He took a deep breath. He surveyed the surroundings. The bows were all without a doubt pointed at this position. He stretched, prayed, and then ran out. Hands sprang out grabbing the roots, pulling his body in, the legs upon the root wall behind compressed and then he was out again. Another volley struck but by that time he was already out. He laughed out loud, his head jerking in the surrounding. Another volley fired. Noting the trajectory of one of the arrows he started climbing.
The fight stretched out. It was like he was playing a game of chess. Only after planning several steps did he get any chance of killing the archers that moved at the slightest of the dangers. Adding in the change from fighting in 2d to 3d it was difficult to manage even though he had some experience with it previously.
Each fight squeezed all from within him, leaving him exhausted by the end both physically and mentally. Burning the wound only had negative consequences this time. The rough movements tore apart the wound again making the damage only greater and the burnt flesh tore away the healthy muscles with it. In the end, he used the moss and creeper to bandage the wound.
Holed up inside a rooted hole, he closed his eyes resting. His head was throbbing and his body hurting all over. He was in no shape to fight.
The battles were never-ending. Each battle ended in him exhausting himself. The wound only got worse but it was not as though he could just sit in a hole till it healed up. At the start, he did not think it reasonable but as he nearly fell while climbing he had no choice but to stay put while he heal as the new wounds made the fights even more difficult.
He looked for a hole. One big enough that he could rest easily while having enough space to move within. Finding it took time and a few battles, worsening his wounds further. After he found a location that was to his liking he looked around and cut roots using them to close the hole. The location of the hole was already oriented in such a manner that it was difficult to even spot. After making sure that it could bear some load if something moved upon it he went inside and rested.