Nathan groaned and put a hand to his head. It felt like his body was on fire, every nerve fried to the core. At his feet, the water nipped at his heels.

But there was something more, something fundamental. He could sense it—deep inside, at the core of his being. Something had gone terribly wrong.

He pushed himself upright, wobbling as he did. Looking down at his chest, he pressed a finger against it. The sensation wasn’t particularly painful, more of a dull, irritating sting. No, whatever had happened ran much deeper than the physical. After a second of hesitation, he decided to try one of his skills.

The feedback was instant and excruciating. Pain shot up and down his chest in radiating waves. It was as if someone were scooping out his insides with a rusty spoon, completely disregarding the need for anesthetic. He collapsed back to the ground, curling into a tight ball, his body trembling from the intensity.

Minutes passed before he managed to summon the strength to stagger upright again. He swayed as he stood, his breathing ragged, and tried to push past the agony coursing through him. It didn’t work.

“What on earth did I do?” he muttered, half to himself, half to the empty air around him.

Nathan wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt analogous to a sprained ankle. Apparently, overextending his skills had a similar result to intense physical overexertion without rest. Only in this case, the damage wasn’t to muscle but to something far more metaphysical. The point remained the same—he’d overdone it, and now he was paying the price.

He stared at the water, its gentle ripples mocking his frustration.

What am I even supposed to do?

He had tried as hard as he could, yet it didn’t seem to make a difference. All he’d accomplished was injuring himself. Probably not permanently… hopefully not. But still, there had to be something he was missing, some trick he hadn’t yet discovered.

Nathan began pacing in a tight circle, his mind churning through possibilities. Each idea he tried to piece together fell apart under scrutiny. Eventually, he dropped back onto the ground, defeated. With a sigh, he pulled out a fish he’d caught earlier. His hands worked almost automatically, ripping it open and spilling its guts onto the ground. In minutes, he’d fashioned some crude sushi. He chewed the raw fish slowly, his thoughts continuing to churn.

There has to be a way.

He extended a hand toward the water and gave it a mental tug. Pain immediately flared, lighting up his nerves like a firestorm. Gritting his teeth, he released the grip, and the pain ebbed slightly.

Rather than brute force, he tried something different. He focused on finesse, weaving his grip in and out of the water’s currents, like threading a needle through cloth. Slowly, painstakingly, he began to establish a connection. Minutes passed, and sweat beaded his brow as he concentrated. Bit by bit, he gained control over the water contained within the spring’s odd bubble.

He pulled, gently but firmly, expecting nothing. And then, the water moved.

Nathan’s eyes widened. He pulled a little harder, ignoring the dull ache in his core. The water threaded through the lake like a long, trailing snake. With one final effort, he shoved it upward. The water burst free, arcing through the air and spraying down like a fountain. It drenched him further, soaking him from head to toe.

Then, something shifted inside him. It started as a slow, tingling warmth, then erupted across his body in a cascade of pins and needles. He doubled over, gasping, but this time it wasn’t from pain.

A moment later, a system prompt appeared before him:

[Riptide Grasp (Bronze) > Riptide Mastery (Bronze+)]

Nathan grinned, his soaked face splitting into a triumphant smile.

Finally.

----------------------------------------

Nathan headed back to the town, a spring in his step.

Everything had been going his way. He’d upgraded his skills. He was making serious problems on the farm stuff, and with any luck, he’d be done with that soon. Even his own town was coming along with a representative government in the works.

It wouldn’t be long now before everything was over with. He’d blow through the Second Circle’s side quests in short order—someone else would figure out the global quest to get to the bottom, he was sure.

He froze.

A chill went down his spine.

He turned his eyes. There, just at the edge of his vision, far in the distance, were two red dots staring at him.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

He blinked, and they vanished.

Nathan clenched his jaw.

What kind of a hallucination…? Maybe just a mirage?

Still, Nathan couldn’t help but hurry his footsteps.

After a few minutes, Nathan spotted something that concerned him even more—a house. In the first place, this meant he had gotten lost. In the second place—if those eyes represented what he thought they did, then this house was about to get a rude awakening.

As he got closer, he spotted signs of his presence. Well-irrigated fields, a windmill hooked up to a pump, and thriving green plants.

Nathan stepped closer. He could see someone working the fields.

“Hello?” he said.

The figure poked up. A wheat stick dropped out of the man’s mouth.

“Nathan!” Abaya yelled. “It’s great to see you!”

----------------------------------------

Nathan was shuffled inside the man’s house. The scent of baked bread mingled with the earthy aroma of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. The walls were adorned with modest decorations—woven tapestries and a few framed sketches of what he assumed were moments from the family’s life.

Abaya led him toward a low table where two people sat. A young girl, no older than ten, was furrowing her brows in concentration over a book, while an older woman with kind eyes and a streak of silver in her hair was jotting notes on a parchment beside her. They both looked up as Abaya entered.

Nathan froze on the spot.

“My wife and daughter, Sumita and Priya,” Abaya said. He stepped closer to them and pinched the little girl’s cheeks. “And how’s my little desert flower?”

Priya—the little girl—pouted. “Appa, don’t do that in front of strangers!”

Abaya laughed. “This is no stranger. This is the man I told you of, the one who saved our farm!”

Sumita’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, Nathan! I’ve heard so much about you—please, sit down! You must be starving after your journey.” Before he could protest, she had already pulled a chair out for him at the table. “Priya, fetch some water for our guest. Abaya, don’t just stand there—help me bring out the food!”

Nathan wasn’t quite sure it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was being forced into a chair and food was being brought out in front of him.

“Um, thanks,” Nathan said.

"So tell me, Nathan," Sumita said, placing a steaming bowl of fragrant rice in front of him, "how did you learn so much about soil composition? Abaya says your methods were unlike anything he'd seen before."

Nathan sunk into his seat. "Just, uh, picked it up here and there."

I really need to just warn Abaya and get out of here.

"Here and there?" Sumita said. "That's quite modest for someone who saved an entire season's crops. Most farmers around here have been working the land for generations, and even they couldn't figure out what was wrong."

"It wasn't..." Nathan shifted in his seat. "The solution was pretty obvious, actually. The soil just needed—"

“Amma, can I show him my drawings?” Priya said, already reaching for a stack of papers.

“Priya,” Sumita said. “Let our guest eat first.”

Nathan reached for another piece of bread, chewing slowly as he watched the family around him. The room was warm—too warm, almost—and the easy laughter between Abaya and Priya felt oddly distant, like he was watching a scene from a movie.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Sumita’s voice pulled him back, her smile gentle as she handed him a small bowl of some mysterious meat soup. “A good meal after a long journey.”

“Yeah,” Nathan said, nodding.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” she said, her eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

“Guess not,” he said.

“You must have learned a lot to be able to help us like you did.”

Nathan shrugged. “Just picked some things up along the way. It’s not as complicated as it looks.”

Abaya chuckled from across the table. “Spoken like a truly humble man.”

“I’m not,” Nathan said quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s just… practical stuff.”

“Practical, but life-changing for us,” Sumita said. “Abaya told me how hard you worked, how much thought you put into fixing things. We don’t take that lightly.”

Nathan shifted in his seat, the sincerity in her tone catching him off guard. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he muttered.

Before any of them could say anything, Nathan stood up abruptly. “I need to speak with Abaya.”

Abaya blinked. “I’m right here?”

“In private. It’s about… farming… stuff.”

Sumita and Abaya stared at each other and shrugged.

“Alright,” Abaya said. “Of course, my friend.”

----------------------------------------

“Now then, what’s all this about? I know my wife can be a bit much—”

They’d moved to a dimmed hallway. Just down the hall, Priya and Sumita were chatting away—though Nathan was certain that he’d made Sumita uncomfortable with his little stunt.

He felt bad about it, but suppressed the feeling.

“She was fine, I didn’t mind,” Nathan said. “It’s just—my parents…”

Nathan trailed off and shook his head. “It’s not important. The important thing is that I think you might be in danger.”

Abaya tensed. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not totally sure, but… I think the Dustend might hit this place.”

“What?”

“Do you have a shelter? Some kind of bunker?” Nathan said.

“Y-yes, all of us out here do.”

“Good. Make sure your family stays here for the next day or so, and be ready to get inside, okay?”

Abaya nodded. Sweat dropped from his forehead.

“What about the other farms around here?”

“I’ll warn them,” Nathan said. “Just make sure to follow what I said, okay?”

“Of course, Nathan.”

Nathan opened a window and started to step out. Abaya raised an eyebrow.

“What the hell are you doing?” Abaya said.

“Nothing. Goodbye.”

Nathan stepped out and shut the window behind himself.

----------------------------------------

Nathan moved like a shadow through the night, his footsteps silent against the packed earth. Farm after farm, he delivered his warning. Most listened. Some dismissed him, but their skeptical expressions couldn’t hide their fear.

The wind began to change. At first, just a subtle shift in direction, then a thickness to the air that made it harder to breathe. The stars above started to dim, one by one, as if being swallowed by an invisible tide.

He was making his final loop back when he spotted a figure in the distance, illuminated by the last trace of starlight.

Abaya?

He stumbled along, seemingly in a random direction.

Nathan sprinted toward him. The wind picked up, carrying the traces of metallic dust. His lungs burned with each breath.

"What's wrong?" Nathan called out as they drew closer. "Why aren't you in the shelter?"

Abaya's face was ash-white. When he spoke, his voice cracked.

“We can’t find her, Nathan. Sumita took her eyes off her for a second. We’ve looked everywhere. Priya—“ He choked on the words. “Priya’s gone.”