"You bolted like a scared rabbit when you saw those goblins," Silph chirped, her eyes twinkling.
"Hey, strategic retreat!" I countered. "We're newbies here. I don't know if they're level one or boss-level. If I'm solo, I can slip away. But Sarah? You know how that goes."
"Understood," Silph conceded, her tone softening.
"Look, I get it. I might be a liability. But rushing in alone? That's a death wish!"
"If I can't win, I'll vanish!" I insisted.
"And if they're faster? They'll gut you. Then what? I'd rather be a rock than live without you." Sarah's voice trembled.
"You two are sickeningly sweet. Just elope already," Silph teased.
"Spare me the romance novel," I snapped. "We have goblins to deal with."
"But you love her, right?"
I don't love her. It's more... a debt. A twisted obligation born of a cosmic screw-up. She's here, in this gnarly, goblin-infested dumpster fire of a world, because of me. Protecting her is less a choice and more like trying to stop a leaky dam with a teacup. It's futile, but I'm going to do it anyway."
"Can you help me kill them?" I cut in, my voice sharp and focused. "That's the only question that matters."
"How many goblins are we talking about?" Silph asked, her wings fluttering slightly, casting tiny, iridescent shadows.
"Five. Five, as far as I know. But they're... persistent. And probably have terrible dental hygiene."
Silph raised an eyebrow, a tiny, elegant gesture that spoke volumes. "Only five? Honestly, darling, I was picturing a horde. A veritable goblin conga line. If you needed my help, I assumed we were facing at least twenty, possibly with a miniboss riding a badger."
"Can you kill them? Yes or no?" I pressed, ignoring the badger-riding miniboss imagery.
"Technically, yes. I could vaporize them with a single, perfectly executed 'Glittering Doom' spell," Silph said, her voice laced with a hint of playful menace. "But the problem, my dear, is that I can't physically go there. Fairy regulations, you know. We're tethered to our designated zones. Leaving without proper authorization is a bureaucratic nightmare involving paperwork, pixie dust, and at least three mandatory tea ceremonies. It would take three to four days, minimum."
"But you don't have to go there," I said, a flicker of an idea sparking in my mind. "We can bring them here."
"If you think you can simply lure them to this area, you're mistaken," Silph said, her tone suddenly serious. "They'll never come within a hundred yards of this place."
"Why not?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.
"Because the mana density here is practically nonexistent. It's like trying to breathe on the moon for them. They'd suffocate. This applies to most species and races that require a baseline mana level to survive."
"So, mana is like… oxygen?" Sarah asked, her voice hushed.
"Essentially," Silph confirmed. "A vital, invisible resource. Without it, they wither and die."
"So, what can you do?" I asked, my frustration mounting.
"All I can offer at this moment is magical instruction," Silph said, her voice softening slightly. "I can teach you both the basics. But since you, my dear, are not native to this realm and possess no innate understanding of mana, it will be a… challenging endeavor. Like teaching a goldfish to play the violin."
"How much time are we talking about?" I asked, my voice tight. "I'm a fast learner. I can memorize complex information after hearing it three or four times. How many days will it take me to become combat effective?"
"Two years," Silph declared, her voice as crisp as a freshly snapped twig.
"Two years?" Sarah and I echoed in unison, the sheer absurdity of the timeframe hanging in the air like a particularly pungent goblin fart.
"That's the absolute minimum," Silph insisted, her wings fluttering defensively. "Human children begin their magical training from infancy, and they typically reach an intermediate level by their late teens. You two are starting from scratch, with no innate connection to mana. I'm being optimistic."
A heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of unseen creatures. Two years. It felt like an eternity, a cruel joke played by the universe.
"Sarah," I said, my voice low and determined.
"Yeah?" she replied, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"I'm going for a walk," I announced. "You stay here and keep practicing with Silph."
"But where are you going?" Sarah asked, her eyes widening with concern.
"Nature's call," I said, wincing slightly at the cliché. "And… to explore. I need to get a lay of the land. I'll be back by evening, I promise. Don't worry about me."
"Alright," Sarah said, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion. "But I'm trusting you for the last time. If you're not back by evening, I swear, I'll track you down. I'll follow you to the toilet if I have to."
"Hahaha," Silph chirped, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You two are quite the comedic duo."
"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "I wasn't planning on running anyway."
I turned and headed in the opposite direction, making sure Sarah couldn't see my true intentions. I needed to understand this world, and I couldn't do that by sitting around a fairy ring.
As I ventured deeper into the forest, I encountered a menagerie of strange creatures. Slimes oozed across the forest floor, leaving trails of glistening goo. Rabbit-like creatures with oversized ears hopped through the undergrowth, their eyes gleaming with an unnerving intelligence. Squirrel-like creatures with shimmering fur chattered from the branches, their tails twitching nervously. And then there were the insects – massive, iridescent bugs with chitinous armor and razor-sharp mandibles.
"Monsters," I muttered to myself, but the word felt… inaccurate. Their forms were alien, their anatomy bizarre, but they were undeniably alive, driven by the same primal instincts as the animals of Earth. They were just… different. Animals of a different world. It felt more respectful to acknowledge that. I should really stop calling them monsters. They are animals, just like on earth.
My strength is still the same as it was in my world. Now the thing to note is that every level will me more powerful.
"Let's get to work," I muttered, the urgency in my voice a stark contrast to the tranquil forest surroundings. My strength, thankfully, remained unchanged from my previous life. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. The crucial detail, however, was that everything here would scale with levels. Each level gained meant greater power, greater potential.
I snapped a sturdy branch from a nearby tree and, with a few swift motions, fashioned a crude but effective club. A weapon born of necessity. Then, I began my hunt.
The forest became my training ground. I moved with a newfound purpose, dispatching the strange creatures that crossed my path. Each kill granted me a meager 1 experience point, but the cumulative effect was undeniable. I leveled up twice, my body humming with a subtle energy. Level three. Not much, but a start.
The sheer variety of life here was staggering. I wrestled with the terminology, trying to categorize the bizarre inhabitants. Were they animals? Monsters? Some unholy fusion of both? Or perhaps plants? I finally settled on "monsters," a broad, if imprecise, label.
I observed monstrous flora, their vines ensnaring unsuspecting creatures. I gave them a wide berth. I'd had my fill of death for one lifetime; tempting fate again was not on my agenda.
Balloon-like creatures floated lazily through the air. I noted their vulnerability to sharp objects, a mental note for future encounters. Egg-like monsters, some whole, some cracked and oozing, were particularly easy targets. I dispatched them with ruthless efficiency, a flicker of guilt quickly suppressed. Survival trumped sentimentality.
"Evening already?" I murmured, noticing the deepening shadows. "Time to head back."
I retraced my steps, the path I'd carved through the undergrowth a testament to my cautious nature. I hoped Sarah hadn't done anything reckless in my absence.
My sense of direction, always reliable, was further enhanced by the trail of broken branches I'd left behind. I wasn't taking any chances. Getting lost in this alien wilderness was a death sentence.
The landscape was a kaleidoscope of bizarre flora. Small, intricate structures, devoid of any discernible purpose, dotted the forest floor. The leaves themselves were a spectacle, ranging from inky black to shimmering gold, silver, and even iridescent rainbow hues.
"Hurry," I urged myself, the urgency building. They'd be worried.
I'd noticed a distinct improvement in my senses. My sight was sharper, my hearing keener, my reflexes faster. The subtle stat increases from leveling, though minimal, were clearly having an effect. I made a mental note to seek out stronger opponents as my level increased.
Ten minutes later, I emerged from the dense foliage, the clearing where I'd left Sarah and Silph coming into view.