Now that he actually knew what he was doing, the next several trees all went much faster. Edwin found that he was fully capable of cutting down a tree in less than half an hour, though after one started falling well before he was actually ready for it, he slowed down so as to not risk any potential accidents. The more time-consuming aspect of it was actually trimming the limbs, though even that went faster and faster as his levels slowly climbed. Over just the next day, Athletics grew from level 37 to level 41, and he was pushing himself hard enough that even that continued to slowly grow. By the end of the second day, he was at 45, 48 by the third, and when he had finished cutting up his fifteen logs day three, he had hit level 50 in the Skill, and it wasn’t the only one.
Level Up!
Skill Points 461→478
Progress to Tier 2: 687/1590
Athletics Level 37→50
Breathing Level 30→32
Flexibility Level 26→28
Nutrition Level 23→25
Packing Level 27→30
Survival Level 28→32
Visualization Level 42→43
Some combination of Athletics and Packing was really paying off, as well, as he was capable of just picking up the twenty-foot logs, some five hundred pounds if his estimations were accurate, like they were less than a fifth of that. Heavy, yes, but he could do it. That same strength didn’t seem to apply to anything else, unfortunately, just lifting things, which he found out the first time he tried to do push-ups and confirmed by the fact he couldn’t splinter some of the larger branches through sheer muscle power. He was slightly stronger, yes, but not by that much. No, clearly something else was going on.
His current hypothesis was that Packing somehow reduced the weight of whatever he tried to pick up, rather than any sort of strength enhancement, and some of his initial testing had seemed to support that hypothesis. When he grabbed a stick by its thin end, it would bend much less than if he just tried propping it up by that same end. Setting it down would make it instantly sag, for example, and if he threw something, it seemed to actually fall slower through the air than if it just fell, though he couldn’t measure precisely enough to actually be certain about that. If the effect was there, and not just his imagination, it was really slight. Superman-style super lifting powers were very cool and had all sorts of potential for future use. He had one idea in mind that he just couldn’t wait to try out once his level got high enough.
Edwin had fortunately managed to get his food problem more or less sorted out. Sure, boiled dried beans weren’t exactly tasty, but when combined with his travel loaves, they were still sufficient to keep him going. He had enough for about a week of food just in that stuff, once he finished working so hard anyway, not counting any he would want to save out for a garden. He’d start trying to hunt and find edible plants tomorrow, he thought. After all, he was finally done chopping trees down!
Off to one side of the clearing, a few piles of logs lay, neatly stacked into position by Edwin testing the limits of his new physical capabilities. His shelter was also seriously buried under piles and piles of branches, giving it loads of insulation, and his floor now consisted of wood chips and sawdust overlayed with the broad leaves, providing a fairly nice, relatively clean surface for him as he slept. He kept finding bugs though, especially worms, and he was looking forward to getting a proper bed or hammock of some form.
A flex of Visualization helped Edwin plan out his future home. Some fifteen by fifteen feet on the inside, it would primarily be a single room, though he planned to make one of the back corners walled off as a dedicated laboratory. He walked out the space that it would occupy, and satisfied by what he found, he moved over to his pile, hauling one of the logs off with a heave. He staggered over to where he had moved a few rocks to form a bit of a small stand, to help keep his timber off the ground. With a deep breath, he pulled out his knives, and started to peel the bark away.
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It didn’t take Edwin too long to figure out there was bound to be a more efficient way to do this. He had quickly abandoned his idea of hand-cutting every little bit of bark from his timber, instead opting to cut a seam of sorts down the top of the log and peeling the bark off like a jacket, but even that still took quite a bit of effort to do and didn’t even work all the time. Unfortunately, any of his additional ideas required tools he simply didn’t have, so peeling trees like bananas stayed around. At least the bark was generally cooperating.
He could do this. It wasn’t that bad.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
….
He got through two trees before getting frustrated.
You know what? I’m going hunting. That might help.
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Edwin wasn’t an idiot, no matter how he felt at times-
Or act, or actually am, or am told by other people.
-Ahem.
Edwin wasn’t an idiot, at least not a complete one. He knew that any and all hunting would rely on his Throwing Weapons pretty much exclusively, which was nowhere near as effective as a modern rifle would have been, and that there probably wasn’t all that much game still in the area, most of it being scared off by his time acting as a lumberjack. Plus, even modern hunters, with all their gear and their tools, frequently would find no prey. He also knew that trying to hunt while angry was a similarly terrible idea. Really, he was mainly just using it as an excuse to go out on a walk, albeit with a handful of decently hefty stones to use as weapons.
As he ventured forward, he dutifully Almanaced every tree he passed, making sure that he’d be able to find his way back. Oh hey, that bird was the same one that had been popping in and out of his clearing. Was it spying on him? Eh, probably not. Most likely, it just lived in the area and he just happened to Identify one he’d already tagged. Hmmm. Almanac would be amazing for conservationists or… whoever it was that tracked migratory patterns of birds, wouldn’t it? A way to uniquely identify a single creature, at range, with no impact to the creature being measured.
A snap broke Edwin out of his trance, and he spun around, ready to fight off some bear, rock already in hand and ready to be thrown… oh, it was just a deer. Never mi- hey wait, a deer!
As it bounded past him at high speeds, Edwin threw his prepared stone as hard as he could at the creature’s skull, incredibly managing to hit it right at the back of the head, and striking with a solid crack. The Mature Blackshoulder Deer didn’t drop immediately, but it did seem to disorient the creature, and it seemed to stagger almost drunkenly into a nearby tree, crashing into the unmoving nedar and falling motionlessly onto the ground.
…
Well.
Apparently sometimes things did work out in his favor.
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It was pretty simple to carry the carcass back to his camp, all told. Compared to the logs he’d been getting used to, the deer was practically as light as a feather. While he was somewhat hesitant to try and clean the animal where he lived- who knows what kinds of predators that might attract?- he didn’t have too much of a choice. As he hadn’t been expecting to actually succeed on his hunt, he hadn’t thought to bring his sharpest knife, namely his Alchemy knife from the dwarves, instead only keeping with him his woodworking knife, which was adequate for self-defense or cutting branches, but not quite as sharp as he’d generally like. Hence, he needed to return to camp. Well, as a partial precaution, he’d do the field dressing on the far side of the creek. That should hopefully keep any scavengers well away from him as he slept. Heck, maybe he’d even drop it all into the stream. The fish would probably like it.
The walk back seemed to take slightly longer than the walk out, though that may well have just been his imagination, and soon he was closing in on very familiar territory. With a relieved sigh, he tossed his kill onto the ground where he was planning on dealing with it and grabbed his knife.
Sure, he’d never actually gutted and field dressed any animals before, but how hard could it be? He’d never been hunting before, but that turned out just fine.
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Hard. It was very hard. Trying to cut his prize open had punctured the stomach or something in the deer’s torso, spilling half-digested grass out onto the ground and releasing an absolutely foul stench which had Edwin gagging for a good minute. Even once he had that taken care of, it was absolutely horrid to have to scoop out all the insides when they didn’t fall out, strung up as the deer’s body was by its front legs, occupying Edwin’s last rope. He was so desperately glad that he had managed to get gloves from Niall’s tower, though he would have to seriously consider throwing them out after this.
He had to borderline punch through some tough membrane (the diaphragm?) to pull out the heart and lungs of the deer, and cut out most of the deer’s digestive tract, which he was fairly confident he’d done at least mostly correct, but there was also just so much blood. It got over everything, he’d have to give it all a solid scrub in the stream and possibly boil it to make sure it didn’t stain, and it just kept coming, too. Gah. He just wanted this to be over.
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Thinking about it slightly more objectively, it wasn’t quite the most disgusting thing he’d ever had to do, but it was definitely up there. He’d need to wash his… everything, and even then he’d still know what he and his clothes had been through. Still, at least the deed was done. The deer hung from a tree, eyes glassy and blank as what was left of it slowly drained out its blood, its vital organs in a sloppy pile around the corpse.
He eventually got his clothes clean, though it took extensive scrubbing with sand from the bottom of the stream and pond. He was similarly forced to bathe, which reminded him sharply of another thing he had forgotten.
Soap. I need soap next time I head in. Soap, a whetstone, and canvas. Probably some seasonings too if I can get them at a decent price.
Once he and his clothes were dry and only a little singed, thanks to careful use of Firestarting and his fire, Edwin sighed and decided he really should deal with his waste before it started to smell or get dark. He grabbed his shovel, hopped the stream, and, hauling a giant scoop of innards, dumped the lot in the stream, just below where the pond let out.
The water immediately reacted, the pool erupting into cold boiling, waves and ripples compounding and multiplying, until waves broke the surface and began to coalesce into a shape. Edwin wasted no time in falling into a combat stance, his… shovel, ready to smack down whatever water elemental or river spirit he had accidentally disturbed to the best of his ability.
He barely even had time to think about what he was really expecting, though one of his half-formed thoughts came true as a distinctly feminine voice called out from where a good amount of the pond was rising into the air, “Ick! Yuck! No! For the last time, I told you, no more blood sacrifi…” the voice trailed off as the water finished solidifying into a humanoid shape, losing its transparency and becoming a distinctly fey-like female figure, clothed in leaves and dark green hair drifting through the air like she was underwater.
Edwin and the nymph (come on, what else would she be?) stared at each other for a few seconds, before she broke the silence, “Now who the Blight are you?”