In Elian’s mind, he was already rubbing his hands. Money to buy supplies for my trip.

“Compensate?” Wendell asked. “Why so?”

Malvar stepped forward and thumped his chest with a fist turned outward, the Khazanite greeting of peace. “The Myrclaw that caused you damage is ours.” He proceeded to explain what Elian already knew about their caravan of beasts.

What about becoming a beast tamer? It was an option Elian considered while brainstorming alternatives last night given that the Elder Giant ruined the plans that he spent years preparing. He knew of many strong beast tamers fielding powerful monsters. They had five among the forces that attacked Blunderbore.

But there was the issue of time. He had zero clue about beast-taming. Impossible he’d have a beast army ready to fight the Giants docking their massive ship at Sarnival Port in eight months. Just seven months, actually. He needed to join and win Sarnival Port’s tournament first to gain an audience with its rulers and convince them of the threat.

No one was going to listen to a nobody. If he won the tournament, all eyes would be on him. Seven months.

“We sincerely apologize for the mishap,” Malvar said. “I assure you that the negligent person accountable for it has been punished.”

Thalia gasped. “It really was a nobleman’s pet. Sir Ward was right.”

The mayor gave Elian a probing look. “Wendell, is this the injured man you’ve told me about?”

Elian bowed in the Southern manner. “Good morning, mayor. Just visiting your quaint town and Wendell’s farm. Imagine my surprise when a Myrclaw attacked us.”

He took off the long-sleeved tunic he wore and rolled up the shorter sleeves of his thin shirt underneath—both hand-me-downs from Wendell—to show his upper arms in wrappings. Then he pulled the shirt’s neckline to the side and presented his bandaged shoulder and neck where the Myrclaw bit him.

Malvar nodded while stroking the gold chains on his chest. “Supremely unfortunate. Although it can also be thought of as good fortune that this is all you suffered.”

“Always look on the bright side,” Elian said. “It’s a good mindset in this harsh world.”

“The Seven Deities gaze upon you. You will be compensated. I understand some farm animals also perished. I’ll pay for them as well.”

“Why can’t you have normal pets?” Wendell demanded in a quivering voice. His forehead turned red. He was on the verge of shouting but minded his manners and kept himself in check. “Why choose those that could kill people? Pick a markhut or even a plant.”

“Some plants are dangerous,” Malvar replied, not understanding that it was a rhetorical question. “We also have customers for those, like the Thorned Vine—”

“We could’ve died! What use is your compensation then?”

“Now, now, Wendell,” said the mayor. “No one wanted this to happen. An accident is what it is. You’re still standing on your two feet, aren’t you? This… Ward… is too. Accept the money as a settlement.”

Malvar gave a bag of coins to Wendell and another to Elian. Wendell was somewhat appeased by the amount; the Khazanite paid for the killed markhuts as if they were fully fattened. Elian counted the money—it was more than the payment last time—and started to compute his shopping later.

“Wendell, let not this matter tarry in your mind.” The mayor turned his horse around and led his party away. “Buy yourself a drink. Enjoy your windfall.”

Watching the four men and their horses disappear over the crest of the hill, Elian said, “I think it’s time for me to leave too. I would’ve gone earlier if we didn’t wait so long for the mayor.”

Wendell and Thalia insisted that Elian stay another day or two. They were adamant to make up for his sleep interrupted by a murderous beast and repaying his help in saving their animals.

“Let me convince your friends that travelin’ with fresh injuries would make it worse,” Wendell said. “The wagon’s bouncin’ and shakin’ will tear your wounds open. Don’t worry, you’re all welcome on my farm. I tried lookin’ for your friends in town to invite them back with me but nothin’. Are you sure they’re there?”

“They must be at the watering hole for groffs,” Elian was quick to reply. “And I’m sorry that I truly can’t stay longer. Business dealings, you know how it goes. I’ll come visit when we pass this way again.”

Carrying vegetables and fruits wrapped in wide geseum leaves to keep them fresh and a letter to Patel, Elian waved goodbye to the farmer couple. He vowed in his heart to stop the Giants invading the valley someday.

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

Elian strode into the town of Ambervale, reminiscing about his weekly trips there accompanying Wendell to sell his farm’s produce.

Was it Ambervale or Amberwynd? He couldn’t remember the town’s exact name because it was unremarkable as could be. The only thing that could be considered of note was the ten-foot statue of its founder named Ambervale… or Amberwynd.

The townspeople claimed that the statue was made to scale—their founder was that tall because he had Giant blood in him. Couldn’t be true. How would that even work? A Giant and a human? Even if someone very determined could think of something, it would be impossible to… implement… because the Giants left the continent and sailed to the Forgotten Lands three hundred years before the first humans arrived in this world.

The Forgotten Lands would become the Remembered Lands. As in, the various races on the continent would remember there were Giants somewhere on lands beyond the vast seas. A grim reminder filled with blood and death.

“Time…” Elian shook his head with a dejected smile. He was the Timekeeper’s chosen one but lacked time. In the face of this irony, all he could do was smile. “My old plan would’ve worked.”

From Ambervale or Amberwynd, he was supposed to travel to the War Monastery of the Thrice Avenged Commander. There he’d learn the Forms of the warrior monks and obtain Divine Commander Cael’s Boon of increasing Attack Power if not wearing any armor. Not only would those have synergized well with Elian’s chosen Curse, but he also would’ve saved plenty of time because the fighting techniques he wanted to learn and the Boon suited for them were in the same place.

Traveling on foot was so slow… but probably faster than the traffic’s pace during rush hour back on Earth.

Too bad he wouldn’t get to see the surprised faces of the warrior monks as he’d progress exponentially because of the Abyssal Eye’s Curse. Instead of the War Monastery to the east, he decided to head west to Sabyn Mountain where the Sabyn Herbalist Lodges sat.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Malvar the Khazanite was right—some plants were dangerous. Elian read about Guardian Herbalists using monster plants to defend their mountain. Elian had already planned to pick up herbalism, studying extensively about magical plants in the previous timeline, so why not use plants that could fight too? Same concept as a beast tamer with the advantage of not starting from scratch.

Did he have enough time with this revised plan? The only way to find out was to go to the Sabyn Mountains and make it happen. He had to be prepared for the arrival of the Giants no matter what.

“Hello?” Elian entered a sort of general store at the center of the town. “Is anyone here?”

The shopkeeper emerged from the backroom and gruffly asked. “What do you want?”

“Supplies for a journey through the mountains.” He raised his money bag and jiggled it.

The shopkeeper brought the things Elian asked for such as a waterskin, dried meat, matches, woolen cloaks and blankets, ropes, and various other tools. He thought of buying a tent but changed his mind because hammering stakes into the ground probably counted as an attack. Since Elian was buying many items, the shopkeeper switched to friendly mode.

“Where are you going?” the shopkeeper asked while helping Elian ack his purchases into a bag. “Are you traveling alone?”

“I’m on my own, heading to the mountains of Sabyn. Do you know the way there?”

Elian could draw a detailed map of the route to the War Monastery but only roughly knew the direction to the Sabyn Mountains. He’d much prefer to study herbalism at the Forest of the Goddess Floralia but it’d take months to get there.

“Should be ‘bout two weeks from here. Follow the river that flows down the mountain outside town and you won’t get lost. Why do you want to go there if you don’t mind me asking? I’ve heard plants there could get plenty fierce. The people too…”

“I’m looking for herbs that might cure my mother’s ailment,” Elian said, ready with another fake story. “Potions don’t work on her. The top-quality ones might, but we don’t have the coin for those.”

The Sabyn Herbalists had an unsavory reputation because their plants… could eat people. It was also common knowledge in these parts that the Sabyn Twins of Autumn hated humans. Couldn’t blame them because humans cut down forests to make settlements. Still, Elian didn’t want the shopkeeper to know that he planned to join the Sabyn Herbalists.

“So sorry to hear that. I genuinely am,” the shopkeeper said. “How about try visiting the Temples of Tribulation?”

“The Temples of Tribulation?” Elian had heard of this place but only had a cursory knowledge of their practices and Boons. It was also due west but on a route that veered away from the Sabyn Mountains.

“I heard their deity could grant wishes to those that survive a strike from the heavens. Now, I’m not telling you to go do their trials, lad. You might die. I won’t want that burden on my conscious. However, you can ask their priests if they know of a cure if their god is as powerful as claimed. They also have pilgrims coming from other countries. Who knows, they might bring remedies you’ve never heard of before. It’s better to look for a cure there than ask the Sabyn Witches.”

“I’ll try…” Elian had no desire to waste time going to the Temples of Tribulation. “How much for all of these?”

A heavy backpack weighing on his shoulders, Elian’s next stop was the leather craftsman’s workshop for a leather vest. A modest protection to add to his inherent Armor, bringing it up to almost nineteen hundred. The craftsman offered him finer works, such as studded leather or those reinforced with metal plates. There was even one Enchanted armor for sale. But Elian’s purse complained. No way he could afford even the buckles of an Enchanted item.

The first time that Elian left the town, he headed south to the City of Mists. He met Yanira there and learned about Boons and Curses. Their meeting had to be postponed because he’d go west this time.

Elian waved goodbye at the stature of Ambervale or Amberwynd, took one last look at the town he wouldn’t see for the next few years, and set off on his journey.

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

Firmly gripping the vines coiling out of the rock cracks, Elian pulled himself up the steep slope. The climb was certainly a challenge for his untrained body fresh from the sedentary hell of an office cubicle. His wounds burned from the strain and some bled again.

But there was no going back. He didn’t know how to descend from this spot.

Onward was his only option.

He didn’t follow the river as the shopkeeper instructed. Cutting through the mountains, he hoped to shorten his travel time by a few days. All this hiking also trained his body.

Was it dangerous? Yes.

He did fall about an hour ago when he lost his footing on slimy moss-covered rocks. Good thing he had a durable body. It wasn’t like wearing a suit of metal armor and rolling over rocks. A normal person would get a concussion and other injuries while getting bunged up inside their metal casing. Rather, Elian’s body was the Armor so he suffered only bruises and shallow cuts.

Falling still wasn’t advisable though.

The sun rolling lower in the sky told Elian he’d been traveling for around four hours. A couple more hours before night would fall. Daylights were longer this far north during summer, so he had more time to travel. He continued his ascent and found the slope angling gentler. He was almost out of breath and his arms were ready to give up.

The next day’s travel was easier because he descended the mountain—the first of several mountains along the way. It was still something to celebrate. His muscles began to adjust to his strenuous activity, his Armor making him skip the soreness part. Thank you, Elder Giant, for giving me this Curse.

Just kidding. He’d rather not have it.

The solitude of the forest gave Elian plenty of time to plan… and realize the tremendous challenge posed by the Elder Giant’s Curse. He wracked his memories for deities he could approach and techniques or spells that could work with his unfortunate condition. At any rate, having zero Attack Power didn’t mean he was useless. He was very useful in stopping the Myrclaw and giving Wendell the opening to kill it. Be creative in finding ways to use his durability.

Thinking about the fate of humanity made time pass quickly. Days added up and a week had already passed.

“Almost there…” Elian sat on the cliff’s edge, dangling his legs while savoring the cool mountain breeze wash over him.

He spotted a winding road traversed by long lines of people. They must be the pilgrims the shopkeeper had mentioned.

“Almost there to the road and it’s another three days of travel to the base of Sabyn Mountains.”

Always look at the positive side, he reminded himself. It was much easier to travel on a road, even an unpaved one, instead of hiking through the mountains. He could even hitch a ride with the pilgrims and just get off when they’d turn to the Temples of Tribulation. More time saved.

Elian stretched out his open right hand and summoned his Favor Points. Three tiny orbs of light emerged from his palm. He had leveled up twice while taking on the challenging mountains. Most activities that improved one’s self physically or mentally contributed to leveling. No need to kill monsters to gain experience points like in those computer games he used to play.

“I call upon the deities for my offering.”

Streaks of glowing red formed the symbols of the Abyssal Eye on his arm. Those tattoos peeled themselves and floated in the air, forming a circular seal of rotating eyes circumscribed with runes. To follow was the dark amber pattern of the Elder Giant, geometric and sharp. They left his skin and formed a square around the picture of an angry Giant bound by chains.

The Abyssal Eye’s Curse was at its maximum tier so it couldn’t accept more Favor Points. But the fact that it still showed up lent some credence to theories that Greater Curses could be improved like the Melding of Greater Boons. Elian never did find out if there was a way. Researching ancient ruins was a bit difficult while the war with the Giants was going on.

Elian offered his Favor Points to the Elder Giant’s Curse. The three orbs on his palm flew to the seal of the Elder Giant.

Greater Curse of the Powerless Physical Immortal

Transfer all your Attack Power and Magic Power to your Armor, becoming helpless in a fight while gaining durability beyond measure. Suffer the ultimate vulnerability to magic in return for quadrupling your Armor. So wills the Elder Giant, whose skin is impervious to steel but not magic.