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Chapter 8: Round Numbers

Chapter 8: Round Numbers

Ari woke naturally before the sunrise, and was sitting on top of his little hill surrounded by vegetation when the sun crested over the horizon and his quest clock ticked down to some nice, round numbers.

[Primary Objective: Survive at least 2 weeks]

[Time to completion: 12 : 00 : 00 : 00]

A smile flitted across his face. Here he was, healthy, focused, with 5 skills and 2 usable mana channels, and mostly finished with two of the secondary objectives of this round. He could barely remember the first round of the previous timeline, the memories were covered in a thick blanket of pain and terror, but he knew that he had barely stumbled out, starving, delirious from thirst and blood loss.

Truly, he had done fairly well last time. He made it through at least, which was more than could be said for half of the remaining humans. With no major injuries or illnesses that couldn't be easily treated, as well, which put him solidly in the top quarter of Humanity.

Ari had somewhat higher goals this time around.

He knew he couldn't be the top performer of Humanity, even with all his knowledge and experience. There were some real monsters out there, prodigies born to use the system, who he couldn't even hope to touch. That wasn't his goal, though.

His responsibility would be to raise up humanity as a whole. Give everyone a better chance so that this time, we can make it to the end. Difficult to do as one man, for sure, but his mind was constantly ticking, drawing up plan after plan and discarding what would be too inefficient, time-consuming, or dependent on chance. They would all have to wait for the end of this round, however. His personal strength would be a factor in humanity’s survival. Not the only factor, not even the most important, but a factor.

He had three immediate goals in front of him. First, unshackle his mana by clearing out the blockages and impurities in his body. Second, finish the secondary objectives. Third, ferret out the secrets of this round, if he had any time left.

So, he created for himself a routine. First, he would fill his core to bursting with mana, then set it loose to flow around his body wherever it could reach to pick up impurities. Not sending it down any particular channels, just letting it permeate his flesh and soak up the tar. Then, when the pain from intentionally polluting his own mana became too much, he would send it flowing out of his only mana channel open to the world.

Next, to give himself a break and recover from the pain, he would fill his core up again, and instead of cultivating with it, guide the clean mana out and gently into his staff.

His mana senses were as dull as a blunted spoon, and he could barely sense an inch out from his body, so he couldn't enchant, he couldn't even see where the mana was going. Still, wood took mana well, as it was once living. He knew that even the miniscule amount of mana he could generate and feed to the staff would give it more life, more strength, more metaphysical weight. Every drop of mana he fed the staff made it tougher, and reinforced its bond to him.

That was the theory, anyway. He couldn't feel it at all, but he had faith.

So went his routine. He would scour his inner self with mana, which felt like a brillo pad scraping across his intestines and his soul, and vent the refuse. Then he would settle down and feed his staff.

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He managed three repetitions of this before his focus dipped below 40% and his eyes started to go blurry. It had only been a little over two hours, but his body couldn't take any more of it, so he had to take a break.

As he stood and felt the early morning sunlight on his face, he felt sore, but lighter somehow. Like he had gotten rid of something that wasn't a part of him, not really, and was only weighing him down. What was left was closer to what he should be, his ideal.

He considered what to do as the wind shook the branches of the pine trees, cooling his fevered and sweat-soaked skin, and decided that he didn't want to go seek out fighting today. He knew in his bones that he was too weak to go out and fight the area boss, not without a plan or risking serious injury, at least, and the 13 remaining lesser monsters would find him, eventually. Instead he decided to follow a hunch.

The wind in this place had never changed direction. It came in gusts and spurts, but if you stood in the same place, the wind would always come at you the same way. That, combined with the fact that when he walked off one edge of his mental map and ended up on the other, the wind changed direction dramatically, could imply that it was all coming from one place in this ‘eternal’ forest.

So, he set his feet and started to walk into the wind. Every time it ebbed, he would stand still and wait for it to pick back up again, and when it did, he would walk directly into the current. It took three hours and one very surprised forest stalker that he happened across, but he eventually reached a place where he could feel the wind shift to be coming at him as he walked around the base of one particular tree.

It wasn't an especially noteworthy tree, maybe a bit taller than its neighbors, but the trunk was solid and uninteresting, and the roots were densely packed and almost entirely underground. He could dig at the roots, but without a tool to do so with, it would be a significant investment of time to dig up anything buried deep enough to be hidden. Not unheard of, but unlikely for the first round, he thought.

Ari sighed, grabbed a low-hanging branch, and began to haul himself up. He had not been a particularly athletic man in the old world, and had been unable to do a pullup. But with his core muscles and one arm benefiting from regular mana infusion, he was a good bit stronger than he had been just two days ago. With effort, he managed to haul himself up.

Branch after branch he climbed, stopping every few feet to examine the trunk for irregularities, and the branches for anything hidden in them. He found nothing, not even a bird's nest.

Finally, as he reached the top, he found a dead spot in the trunk, a hollow that was nestled in the very top of the tree. In the hollow, surrounded by dead leaves and pulped bark, lay a sword.

The weapon was dirty from being exposed to the elements for what looked to be a good while, but underneath the grime he could see a razor sharp steel blade, etched with swirl patterns up and down its length. Attached was a brightly colored hilt, baby blue painted wood wrapped in yellow ribbon like an easter egg, with four tassels tied to the end, all different colors.

He hesitated only briefly before grabbing the hilt.

[Hidden Treasure Found!]

[Sword of the Four Winds - Enchanted Shortsword (Common)]

[A sword enchanted to move faster when moving with the wind, and to ignore air resistance when moving against it]

[Title acquired (6)! Complete round to claim.]

He pulled the garish thing out and patted the tree in sympathy.

“Must have kept trying to grow around it, got cut whenever you did, huh? Don't worry, I'll get it out of your hair.”

Ari then took the sword, and aiming for a clearing, tossed it off the top of the tree. It stuck about a foot deep in the hard earth, hilt pointing straight up in the air.

He climbed down, hand over hand, and retrieved the sword from the earth, which slid out easily. The blade was still razor sharp, even after however long it had rested undiscovered and its impromptu trip down from the tree. Enchanted items, even common ones, were made from tough stuff.

He picked up his staff as well, and tapped it on the ground, wincing.

“I’m sorry, buddy, but I think I’m going to have to use this guy to beat the area boss”, he said to the staff, wiggling the sword. “He’s already enchanted. You’ll get your day soon, I promise. Now let’s get home, I think I can get a few more rounds of cultivation in before I need to sleep”.