On autopilot, I returned to the guild. My mind and eyes fully focused on the interface in front of me. Recipe after recipe scrolled past. There were quite a few of them for purchase at one of the stalls. At least they sold them in bundles because, even with the list narrowed down to those that I had the ingredients for as well as ones that a beginner could make, there were over a hundred recipes. These recipes ranged from stews and soups to skewers and something called a fritter. Yeah, I had no clue what that last one was. Too bad the recipe didn’t include any images.
The doors of the guild hall were wide open. Various people were cleaning the inside. Giving it a good scrub while the weather was good and warm. I stepped around a section of the floor that was still wet as Ginny waved me down from where she stood behind the counter.
The moment I was within earshot, she started to talk. “Your material appraisal is complete. Seems you got into a bit of trouble with that group yesterday.” One of her eyebrows rose toward her hairline. “Tell me, did they make you do anything dangerous?”
“No ma’am.” I quickly said. While I wanted to avoid the group due to how they treated Lance, the group was great. “The group had me stay in the back with their spell caster and archer. The only time I even got hurt was my own fault.” Internally I winced as I recalled just how I had frozen during that fight.
“Good.” She huffed. “As for the value of the beetles and eggs, the guild is willing to offer one ninety for the whole lot.” For some reason, I felt that she was a bit colder toward me. Not from anything particular, I just got that feeling from her.
I stammered at the number. What the hell was going on? There was no way that those creatures were worth that much. “But, but, why? What about these items warrant that kind of money? What could they be used for?”
“It was the eggshells you brought back. Those are used in various magical fertilizers. All of which are used across the kingdom. The only time anyone can get some is when a colony is just forming. Given that demand and the lack of a steady supply, those shells go for quite a bit.” As she spoke, her expression, while it retained its cold edge, softened.
“How much were the beetle shells worth?” She pulled out a small slip of paper and passed it to me. Three things were listed on it.
Amount
Item
Value
213
Verdant Shelled Beetle (Whole)
0.76.21.84
189
Verdant Shelled Eggs (Shells)
0.113.78.16
Total
0.190.0.0
“What is with these numbers at the end?” I asked, pointing out the weird numbers in the value column.
She took a second to look at what I was pointing at. “That is a shorthand method most people use to denote currency. Starting from right to left we have copper, silver, gold, then platinum. One hundred copper to one silver, one hundred silver to one gold, one thousand gold to one platinum.”
While I hadn’t known what the ratio was for gold to platinum, I had been told about the other two. With that information in mind, the information in that column made more sense. It was similar to how the dollar worked, just with a bit of a longer number. “Thanks for the information. Is there anything else required for this?” I gestured at the paper.
“Just your signature at the bottom.” The moment I signed it, she pulled out a small bag of coins. We traded items. With a moment of focus, I attempted to put the bag into my inventory. While the bag deflated, it stayed where it was.
No more inventory slots open.
Given that I had bought a ton of bags today, I was fairly sure there were slots open in my inventory. Taking a moment to check, I found that most of my inventory was open. Yet no matter what I tried, the bag would not go into my inventory.
This time both of Ginny’s eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. “How many open slots do you have?”
“Eighty-five.”
She rolled her eyes. “How many open slots do you have that are not inside of a bag?”
Not understanding what she was getting at, I replied as I tried to force the bag into the screen. “None.”
The bag suddenly vanished in a blur as her hand dipped below the counter. Before I could so much as say a word in protest, she said, “Bags cannot go into other bags.” Oh, yeah, didn’t someone tell me that earlier? Her other hand gestured at me to move on. Dismissing me as another person walked up to take my spot.
I debated rejoining the line and questioning her but something told me that wouldn’t go over well. Instead, I started toward the training room, not really sure if Barti and his group would still be there. As I got closer, the sounds of wood hitting something solid made its way to me through the door.
I stood in front of the door as I debated what to say and do. After all, the three of them had left me to the mercy of the guild and Michael’s party. While things had gone over decently well, I was still a bit irked. But I also needed the training. My mind waffled back and forth until it froze as the door opened. Barti held the door as he looked at me for a moment before asking, “Are you coming in or are you going to stand out here all night?”
“Um,” My first instinct was to come up with some excuse. Some reason for why I had been standing out here like a stalker. After all, I didn’t want to lose the ability to train under him and the two girls but what could I say that wouldn’t sound stupid? Wait, why did I even care what they thought? “Why the hell did you stay quiet last night?” I demanded.
He sighed as he leaned against the door. “Because, while we can train you here, I cannot go out of the city without an escort for…reasons.”
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His excuse sounded half-assed. “Reasons? What reason could there be to limit you to a city? What reason would be good enough to leave me to the wolves? And I mean that both figuratively and metaphorically. What if they decided to get me alone and assault me? Would you have helped me then?”
Barti’s voice was tinged with a bit of anger as he spoke. “Just, trust me when I say that if I had any other choice, I would have taken it. Luckily, that was the group I was going to end up asking to help with your training anyway. Am I sorry it went down the way it did? Yes.” What the fuck. If not for the fact that he and the girls were free and willing to teach me, I would have walked right then and there. Hell, if they tried something like that again, I might just do that. “Now, we have the training room for the next month. Hopefully that is long enough to get you up to speed on the basics.”
His eyes looked me up and down as he let out a bit of an annoyed sigh. My eyes followed his to see my skirt as it waved through the soft breeze. “Having holes in your clothes makes you look incapable of fighting.” The elf sounded like he was admonishing me.
“I am incapable of fighting.” I sharply reminded him.
“Then you will need to learn fast. Also, you should buy a few more pairs of clothes for when the ones you have are no longer usable.” A bit confused, I again looked down at my legs, this time shoving my skirt to the side to find whatever he was talking about. In the middle of both my legs, just below my knees, were two jagged holes. The sight of them reminded me of the two beetles that had managed to stab into my leg.
“I will get some more clothes later.” I rubbed at my face and walked past him. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to move onto the training before he found something else embarrassing to point out.
Tindi was at one side of the room. Her fists and feet flying as she punched a bag that hung down from the ceiling. Mindi was on the other side of the room. Her body glowed softly as she sat on the ground. Small objects flickered in and out of the air around her. None of which were large enough or stayed long enough for me to make out what they were.
Barti closed the door behind me. He must have understood my need to change subjects as he spoke, rather than asked, “You leveled.”
“Yes.”
“Good, did you pick an element?”
“Fire.”
“Ok,” he gestured to Mindi, “She will train you in how to use magic.” I started in that direction but his hand stopped me. “However, that will come after today's training.” I groaned at what I knew was his next words would be. “Get running.”
My feet pounded against the wood floor as I made my way around the room. Dodging the bag Tindi was pulverizing as it swung into my path. “Faster!” The elf called out. Too bad. I was already running as fast as I had during that first day. There was no way I would be able to run any faster. Still, I pushed myself. To my surprise, my speed did increase, but so did the burn.
Laps, pushups, and crunches. He had me do all the same exercises that I had during our last session. Only faster, longer, and more. Thankfully, this time he added in a break here and there to give me time to drink water. Did I mention that he let me do smaller sets? Why? I asked the same thing after the second time he called for a break.
“Why are you letting me take breaks? Why not push me like you did last time?”
“Last time I was trying to find your limits. Now that I know what those are, I can push you to that edge without going far enough to kill you. Though it's not like that would kill you or any other traveler.”
“Wait, so everyone has access to the system created by the gods but only us travelers are brought back after death?” Ok, I know this is a game and it wouldn’t last long if a player's death was permanent. Especially when you considered that it was impossible to create a second character or reset your original. But why not extend the same protections to the NPCs?
This would make the world seem more alive in some ways. What if one of those characters was trying to relay secret information in a battle and died during an escort mission? The opposing side would be more likely to win and it would be your fault. Or what about a monster destroying a village? The village would be gone with no way of coming back.
“Yes and no.” Barti sighed as if preparing to explain something he didn’t want to. “There are classes that allow one to resurrect others. Each is rare and the spells they provide have at least one restriction. Add to that the costs. Sometimes it is better to just let the dead lie.”
What could he have seen to say such a thing? When would it be best to leave someone in the grave, especially if you had a way to bring them back? Then again, now that I was thinking about various scenarios I found that there were such situations where the resulting cost was more than it was worth.
Instead of continuing, I changed the subject. “So, what are we doing for training next?”
“Do you have a weapon?”
“Yes, though it is currently getting repaired. The quartermaster…”
He waved off my explanation. “Doesn’t matter why you don’t have it. I just need to know what weapon it is so I can start to train you.” A rod made of a deep red wood appeared in his hand. He didn’t move or try to pass me the weapon.
Realizing he was waiting for my answer, I said, “Chisa Katana.” Eyes fixed on the rod, he started to mutter as his hand passed over it. The wood rippled as if it was a lake and he was dropping stones into it. Waves pushed parts out as other parts vanished. It thickened in some parts while thinning in others until the rod resembled my sword with uncanny detail.
His hand held it out to me hilt first. “Until I see your weapon, this will have to work.” I nearly dropped the thing as I took it from him. Who knew that wood could be so damn heavy? It was even heavier than its metal counterpart. “Now, let us go over some basic forms. Take whatever stance you have been using until now.”
Feet slightly apart, I held the weapon out in front of me. Muscles across my body tensed up in preparation to react to anything that might come my way. Barti clicked his tongue as another rod of wood appeared in his hand. Unlike mine, he didn’t form it into a sword. Given how it stung when he used it to whack my feet to force them apart, I doubted it mattered.
“Feet shoulder width apart. One foot ahead of the other. Keep your knees slightly bent.” The rod smacked my back next. “Stop slouching. Straighten your spine.” Another smack hit my chest. “Roll your shoulders back and keep your chest open. Being able to breathe deeply will keep you going longer in a fight than if you compress your lungs. An easy way to remember this is to remember open chest, open airway.”
I did as he commanded. My feet settled into place as my knees bent. My back straightened as my shoulders lifted. I felt the difference immediately as it suddenly became much easier to breathe. “Also, for system's sake, relax.”
Confused, I asked, “How am I supposed to react to something if my muscles are relaxed?”
“How can you react if your muscles are tired from being tense all the time?” He retorted. “As you are using an eastern weapon, you will find that the moves are more fluid. Flowing from one form to another. Attack to defense and back. All without pause. Like water. So, like water, you will need to learn to flow and not rely on speed and power.”
“How can I hurt someone if I am doing no damage or get hit the moment the fight starts?” I grumbled.
“Both speed and power will come with time and practice. Both of which you travelers seem to forget even though you are gifted with copious amounts of one to do the other. Now, lift your sword over your head and slice down as you step forward.” It sounded as if he was a bit disappointed in me. As if he expected better.
As I resigned myself to yet more hard work and training, I started to swing. He corrected my posture using the rod before having me repeat the motion. Again and again, I swung at the air. I only paused for a few seconds at a time to fix something after his rod smacked a part of my body. It hit the body part that was positioned wrong as he told me how to correct it. Given how hard those smacks were, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wasn’t black and blue by the end of the day. Still, I kept at it. Lift, step, swing, return. Lift, step, swing, return. Over and over again.
“Good,” he stopped me from lifting my blade after I finished another slash. “Keep your feet where they are for the start of this next move.” Unfortunately, I had gotten so used to returning to the starting position that my foot was sliding back without me noticing until he said not to. I scrambled a bit as I returned the offending foot back.
“This next move is mostly used to parry a blade as you move away but can also be used as an attack.” His body lowered into a mirrored stance. The rod pointed toward me as he demonstrated the move. “Step forward with your other foot as your blade cuts up at an angle.” The move knocked my wooden blade to the side as he got in close. Stepping back, he gestured for me to try.
I want to say I got it the first time but that would be lying. As with the first strike, he yelled at me over and over. The move was too shallow, too steep. At least with those mistakes he just hit my hand and told me to try again. When my foot went too far or not far enough he pushed me hard enough to send me sprawling to demonstrate how vulnerable I was in that position.
Still, I grit my teeth and kept going. Eventually, I managed to perform the move without getting whacked or knocked over. “Good. From that new position, slice horizontally. Sliding your other foot to the side.”
Following his instructions, I cut a horizontal line in the air. As I moved back, I found myself automatically flowing through the previous two moves. The transitions were pretty choppy but I could see how the moves would flow.
A sudden epiphany caused me to feel like a moron. One powerful attack was all well and good but what would you do if it was blocked? Better to hit the opponent again and again. Never letting up until either they were down or you were.