Recovery was a long process, they had to feed me what was essentially mush for my still healing intestines to manage. Turned out that just putting the tears back together wasn’t enough to be considered healed, who knew? The slop didn’t taste very good, surprising perhaps nobody, but I wasn’t the one paying for it so my complaints stayed internal. But time was a valuable resource, and I refused to waste it just laying around, so in the hours between Healer Ken’s visits I…fucked around with my mana.

  I knew I shouldn’t, considering the very visceral warnings I received. But frankly? None of the warnings included death, and so far that had been consistent, so why should I care? What did it matter if I pushed a little harder?

  It didn’t, that was the correct answer.

  The healer definitely knew I was a mage by that point, so extending my agony would just tell him I was an idiot and not much else. Considering there shouldn’t be a reason for my mana sickness to be getting worse. It didn’t get that much worse though, once the feeling of my soul tearing from my body settled in I always stopped! Alongside the nausea and migraine and daggers punching through my soul and burning and—

  It would increase my tolerance, so what was the harm?

  Something I had theorized was that bringing yourself to the brink was a fantastic method of growth, considering my reserves were taking just a bit too long to fill. Enough to be noticeable. I might decide to do that regularly if I could. All I had to endure was the worst fever of my life alongside so much more!

  I wished I was actually strong enough to subject myself to that, but I wasn’t that desperate. Despite the coming End.

  Otherwise I’d been experimenting, doing a bunch of guru shit and finding that some things actually worked! Turns out breathing right increased the speed of my river, I didn’t know what that did but it stressed the borders of my passages so…good enough? I’d also been condensing mana once a day since I didn’t really have an excuse not to.

  Not much progress there but it had only been a week, nothing came so quickly, unless I pushed to the breaking point. I wished I could endure enough to reach that point, wished I could be strong enough that suffering wasn’t such a burden, and wished that the memories would stop replaying in my mind as I stared at the wooden ceiling above.

  Memories of my parents. Of my friends. Of my village.

  Couldn’t push them aside when there was nothing to do, and couldn’t confront them when they caused so much pain. So they just lingered there. In the back of my mind. Faces of so many dead flowing through.

  So, breathing. It wasn't the four square breathing I was used to. It actually wasn’t all that effective at biological control and the parameters switched for reasons unknown so I couldn't find a cadence to effectively keep the stream raging. But it was something to do. A pleasant distraction. So far I’d only recovered a quarter of the mana I used for my spell, which impressed upon me the ridiculous amount of mana the body could hold compared to how much it could handle.

  If I could drain my entire reserves without passing out instantly, doing whatever my demon did, then I’d be strong enough to take on dozens of goblins bare handed. Which was insane for anyone to even consider except perhaps mages.

  Other than healing and breathing, I’d been continuing my habit of forming a small ball of mana in my palm. I didn’t know what the fuck it’d be capable of but control had to be important for something. Even if it was never mentioned in the game. Neither was most of the methods I’d been using mana though so…fuck the games logic?

  I could control it to the size of my palm. Much larger than the nail sized thing from before. I experienced a little roadblock when part of my soul was chomped but I pushed through it, and now I was here.

  My mother would be proud.

  So I was getting better, and that barely affected my mana sickness since I wasn't affecting my body or changing reality. I was curious as to whether the body limitation was exclusive to actions affecting the body, or if shit like fireballs were similarly draining. I’d never know until I learned said spells.

  Right demon?

  The imp rolled its eyes, crossed its arms, and sent me an image.

  Two spirals of granite, coiling together like DNA with blood as the connecting factor. It rested in the palm of something red and bleeding. In its other hand was another caricature of biology, this one made of smouldering charcoal over a palm of seared flesh. I blinked away from the image and shook my head.

  Was that…was that supposed to mean I was stuck with whatever path the orc put me on? That didn’t sound right. Mana is mana, it’s fuel no matter what. So long as I could form the spell, what did it matter?

  The Knights knew multiple schools of magic after all…as did archmages. But normal mages always presented one specialty, I always thought that was to add flavour but…hmmm.

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  The imp nodded, seemingly satisfied with my ruminating.

  Well that was lame.

  “It’s too short,” I grumbled.

  Aira flicked her gaze at me as we walked past hawking vendors and passing strangers. “It’s the proper size for your age. That sword you carried with you to the guild was likely made for a soldier, I assume you got it scavenging the remains of the horde?”

  I nodded, not feeling the urge to elaborate.

  “Impressive, I’m surprised you kept it sharp after so long.”

  “My father was a smith,” I said. “And I was his only child. Taught me a bit about the trade.”

  Aira pursed her lips and turned to give me a sympathetic look. I scowled in turn which made her chuckle. I didn’t like being treated like a child, but my body refused to match my mind so I got treated like I was some fragile princess. Not my idea of a good time.

  “Where are we going now?” I said, a little obvious in my attempt to change the subject.

  Aira hummed, but didn't comment. Instead pointing at the bag on my back.

  “We’re getting you some proper hunter supplies. Traps and trinkets and the like, so that you don’t just rush in blade first and find yourself dead.”

  “What kind of trinkets?” I raised a brow.

  “A compass for one. As well as an animal whistle, might not provide much in coin but their meat can help for bigger hunts. Which brings us to the supplies needed for harvesting! Then there’s the mage light, a bit expensive but I’ve got the coin.”

  “Mage light?”

  “Exactly as it sounds, uses mana for fuel—don’t worry, you won’t have to be a proper mage to make use of it. It drains mana from the things it touches.

  “As for traps, well. We can only really get the basics, each monster has its own weaknesses so we can’t properly prepare until we know what it is. For now we’re just getting some bait and a snare. For smaller animals, but once you're healed and we know what we’re hunting we’ll get something more specific.”

  “You don’t already have something in mind?” I raised a brow.

  Aira shrugged. “Rewards vary, what could be a good hunt one week might not be worth it on another. All depends on what the market’s looking for. Unless it’s one of the big monsters, smart hunters tend to avoid those though. There’s also the fact that we’ll need a consensus with my team on what to hunt. They’re out right now, going after a pack of scale wolves. When they’re back, hopefully that healing spell will be done with your guts and I can start properly teaching you.”

  “I don’t need to be taught,” I grumbled. “I just need something to fight.”

  “Shoulda joined the delvers guild then,” Aira chirped.

  “They’d start me as a porter, and that’s just a waste of time. Besides, I have no clue which cities have a dungeon, or which cities are even out there besides a handful.”

  Aira turned to me with an unreadable expression. “You’re awfully eager to get yourself killed, aren’t you?”

  “No,” I huffed. “I plan to live forever.”

  “Well, you don’t need the essence for it, considering you’re an elf. Could just save for an apprenticeship somewhere safe.”

  “Nowhere is safe,” I grumbled. “And what the fuck is essence?”

  Aira pursed her lips again. Annoying. “Village girl, almost forgot. Essence is…not something well studied. When something dies, the body of their killer gets a bit stronger. It’s only noticeable in delvers and hunters, but it’s there. Won’t make you a mages equal but those are rare.”

  “So like experience,” I mumbled.

  “Hmm?”

  “Nothing, just thinking.”

  Aira shrugged, continuing her walk down the street until we reached a decently sized store with a proper bell attached to the door. Aira walked inside with a jingle and I followed, being a witness to…a lot of alchemical concoctions if I was being honest. But there was sections with proper hunting gear, and that was where Aira walked over.

  Aira didn’t say anything to me, just staring between me and different skinning knives, as well as a proper bag to replace my sack. She pointed to one of the knives and it took me a moment to realize she was asking for my opinion. I shook my head, too thin, it wouldn’t last through many applications of a whetstone. Though it would cut well while it could.

  Soon, I found myself outfitted with a knife, a bag, some bait, and an animal whistle alongside a new sword.

  Aira payed a few silver for the items, which was an exorbitant amount in my opinion, but it was the woman's money so I didn't comment. The shopkeep didn’t even bother to haggle, eyes glowing at the silver placed on his counter.

  We left the store and walked back to the guild, two silent hunters. One mentor and the other their mentee. The thought of being an apprentice once more gave way to some somber feelings, but I crushed them down with practicality.

  I almost died against the Muri-Ursi, would have died if it wasn’t for the healing spell. I was genuinely surprised nothing got infected with how much shit I was covered in, but I guessed the spell probably has disinfectant properties.

  “Tomorrow we’re getting you some proper leather,” Aira said. “Then I’ll get you skinning some small animals that got turned in. Won’t make much, but it’ll be a valuable experience.”

  I groaned at the woman, but didn't say anything.

  I understood implicitly that hunting involved some busywork, I was just hoping someone else could bother with that bullshit. A vain hope, but still. At least I could infuse my body with mana while I did so. Even if it made my fever worse.

  Then something changed in the countenance of the woman. “Yir!” She whipped around with a concerning amount of joviality. “You’re from the villages, right?”

  “Yes?” I said hesitantly.

  “So you’ve never been to a balneae before?” The woman was vibrating with excitement at the mention of this ‘balneae’.

  “I...don’t know what that is?”

  Aira smiled so wide her teeth practically beamed off sunlight. “Let’s go then! No more rivers for you little lady, we’re giving you a proper wash!”