Sam’s ability to perceive and sense mana eclipsed even the most powerful of monsters in existence. How could the Mayor’s mana usage in probing the crystal elude him?

Answer: it didn’t.

Sam stopped and turned around, re-entering the room and finding the Mayor sitting down in a cold sweat.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He took the crystal from the Mayor’s hand and crushed it, using his fingers like a vice. The crystal emitted a popping sound, and only powder remained.

The Mayor looked up at Sam, his eyes languid. “You’re a God,” he remarked, his voice tired.

“No,” said Sam. “I’m just a man.”

Sam stared at the Mayor for a moment, his face twisted into a scowl. He had hoped that humans, his own kind, could be trusted. The scar on his chest ached, and he thought back to his time in the jungle.

“It seems trust is something to be earned, even among humans,” Sam whispered as he turned to leave.

“W-wait,” said the Mayor as he jumped to his feet. “Take this.”

Sam stopped. The Mayor was holding a wooden card. On it was a picture of Sam’s face and a Cabalist Rune.

“What is this?” Sam asked.

“It’s an ‘S’ rank Guild Card. You should be ‘X’ or ‘Z’ ranked, but only a major Guild office can administer those. ‘S’ is for people who surpass the whole of a Branch office.”

“Does this have my information on it? From the Crystal?”

“No,” the Mayor replied. “It only has your name and face. It will record any achievements you have for the Guild, too. The only achievement on it right now is ‘surveying the World’s Crown’.”

Sam hesitated for a moment but then pocketed the card.

“You want to blend in, right? I won’t tell a soul,” said the Mayor, his voice rasping.

“Good,” Sam remarked with a grin. “Come. Let’s eat dinner.”

The two returned to the dining room and were served plates of potatoes and meat all slathered in gravy.

Sam’s eyes watered at the smell. His thoughts revolved and memories played in his head. It had been a long time since he enjoyed a proper meal.

The cuisine of Braxia, while not as advanced as Sam’s old world, was far from barbaric. It was human nature to seek out ways to improve tastes and flavors.

Sam cried. Tears ran down his face with each bite. The flavors, while foreign, were nostalgic. The entire Guild Hall fell quiet at the spectacle. Several of the weaker men—those who couldn’t feel or sense Sam’s own strength—were left confused… But the rest could sense it. They could almost see the illusion of a lion enjoying the meat of a gazelle after fasting on reeds for a year. In this case, 3000 years.

With the meal finished, Sam recollected himself and wiped his reddened eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice. “It has been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a real meal.”

“When you lived on the mountain, did you live alone?” Asked the guard Riben.

“Yes,” said Sam.

“Come here brother,” said Riben as he threw an arm around Sam’s shoulder, holding him in a side hug. It was a show of solidarity—a moment of brotherhood. Riben understood the pains and torments of cooking his own food. The two were united in their bachelorhood.

Sam and Riben’s moment didn’t last long. Three additional chairs were pulled up to their table. Two men and one woman, the three Sam had terrified earlier.

“Hello, my name is Gyre and I want to apologize for trying to probe you earlier,” said the Leader, a large man with shaggy black hair and a scar running down his right eye.

Sam waved his hand, dismissing Gyre’s apology. “Don’t mind it,” he replied. “I shouldn’t have intimidated you or your friends… Oh, but I did want to know: how did you recognize my strength in the first place? I thought I made myself immune to such things.”

Gyre seemed relieved at being forgiven. The tension drained out of him like a cut spring.

“Because you don’t have any mana,” said Gyre. “Normally people give off mana so you can tell how strong they are, but you? Nothing. I still feel nothing, even now. That’s not normal, and in this world ‘not normal’ is usually terrifying.”

“Ah!” Sam exclaimed, understanding. “Where I lived, monsters could sense mana. I had to learn not to give it off at all in order to survive.”

The entire table reeled at Sam’s comment.

“Monsters that can sense mana? They must be ‘S’ ranked at the least,” commented Riben.

The Mayor covered his face with his hand. His expression reeked of exasperation.

“Should I give off mana when among people?” Sam asked, his tone innocent. “And if so, how much?”

“Y-you can control your mana that well!?” Gyre asked.

The Mayor set his forehead down against the table and groaned. “Sam, you aren’t helping yourself if you want to blend in with normal folks,” said the Mayor without lifting his head.

-

The discussion at the table eventually turned away from Sam’s abnormalities to his goals. He informed the others of his goal to reach the Kriegan Empire and settle down there. Perhaps become a teacher and start a family…

The thought of someone as skilled as Sam teaching inspired something in Gyre and Riben. The two of them locked eyes and nodded.

“Sam, Riben and I will take a leave of absence from Madda. We’ll guide you to the Kriegan Capital,” said Gyre.

Sam, of course, was overwhelmed with joy at the proposition and agreed.

The details were hammered out and it was decided that Sam, Riben, and Gyre would leave the Town of Madda at daybreak on foot.

Riben and Gyre wanted to spend an extra day to collect necessities for the trip, but Sam assured them he had enough supplies for everyone. He even went so far as to pull out the stripped leg of a yeti from his backpack storage to convince them. This only made the Mayor bang his head against the table harder than before; his rounded beard crinkled and bent beneath him, plushing outwards like a pillow.

After dinner the sun had set and the world was covered in a blanket of darkness. The Mayor guided Sam to a local inn.

-

Sam woke before sunrise. Parched, he pulled a water pouch from his backpack and drained it. His wild-brown hair became tangled. He moved like a zombie; the bed had been unkind to him. Having gone years without more than a mat of beast skins, Sam wasn’t used to the straw mattress.

Rubbing his back, Sam started to dress himself.

-

The morning air gave Sam a chill. Birds screeched and sang, fluttering about in the dawn gray. Riben and Gyre were waiting, each dressed in the clothes of a traveler. They wore wind-scarred cloaks and carried their weapons openly, as if in challenge to any who would try them. Gyre carried a two-handed sword, much too large for a sheath, on his right shoulder at an angle. A small pouch on his hip held the pommel, taking most of the load off by redistributing it. Riben simply used his spear as a walking stick.

“Let’s go,” said Sam as he grabbed the hems of his own cloak and started making way towards the North Gate.

The town of Madda was still and quiet. Only the hardiest of workers and the unsleeping were awake and moving. The summers months were just starting to hit full swing, but the mornings remembered the cold of winter.

The North Gate was guarded by a short man wearing the same ‘uniform’ Riben had worn the day before. The three travelers showed their identification and were allowed to pass unaccosted.

The road north was accompanied by wide plains and rolling hills. Farmland stretched for miles and miles, with barns and farmhouses scattered about with naught more than thin glades dividing their plots.

Sam revelled in the sights. He had been worried, after seeing the South Gate’s little farmland, that the town suffered from food shortages. He was content in knowing that Madda possessed a multitude of farmland opposite the side of the World’s Crown where the monster activity was few and far between.

-

The road stretched on and soon the trio lost sight of Madda. As the miles passed, the glades between the farms grew thicker and more robust. Soon, the travelers saw more of trees than wheat. Despite the woodland around them, the path remained wide and true, untouched by mother nature. Sam could feel magic beneath his feet, no doubt used in the road’s construction in an ancient time. Such currents of mana felt nostalgic to him.

Riben, overtaken by the boredom of weary travel, began singing. He knew a plethora of rhymes and Sam enjoyed most of them.

The sun rose and the sun began to fall. The trio stopped by the wide trunk of a hard-barked tree; it was wide enough around that all three couldn’t reach around it hand-to-hand.

Riben and Gyre talked much of their lives in Madda during the walk. Riben grew up there and lived as a town guard. His tale was filled with women he fancied and his attempts to acquire them. Gyre’s life was more exciting. He grew up in Lazann and 10 years ago he left his home for Madda, hearing about the increased monster activity and seeing an opportunity to make his name as an adventurer. In the ten years since he’s reached ‘B’ rank, and was considered formidable on the South End of Braxia.

Sam didn’t share much. He didn’t really know how to explain The Tutorial, so he described his time there as ‘Adventures in foreign lands’.

At the end of the first day, the trio had covered nearly 100 miles. Their pace was beyond human, each one being well trained. Along the way they passed many carts, but they didn’t encounter any large groups.

The three pitched tents and decided on the night watch shifts by drawing stalks of hay. Sam had first shift, Riben the second, and Gyre the third.

The night passed in peace.

-

The second day of travel started much like the first. The three men woke before the dawn and set off North along the road. The woodlands around them began to change. The trees became more gnarled and the earth grew soft.

“We’re entering the Kreato Marshlands,” said Riben as he took the lead. “I’ll use my spear to feel out the ground. Have to make sure it’s safe to walk.”

“The Kreato Marshlands are on the edge of the Kriegan Empire, right?” Asked Sam, recalling the maps he had seen in his big book of common sense.

“Yes, but we’re still four days of travel from the Capital. After the Marshlands we’ll come to the city of Sauver-Hill,” replied Riben as he prodded ahead, using his spear.

Bugs began to swarm the trio as they moved, and the smell of the rotting spring mud burned Sam’s nose.

Sam mumbled to himself as the flies buzzed around his head. He knew of a good spell to ward off the insects, but it had been many years since he needed it.

“How did it go again?” Sam whispered to himself.

“Aha!” Sam cried out, making Riben and Gyre jump.

“What? Is it a beast?” Asked Gyre as he gripped the handle to his sword.

“No no,” Sam replied. “I’m going to cast a spell. You two stand still for a moment.”

Sam moved his hands in circles and then into symbols and shapes. The runes of Illusion magic were formed and then, with a surge, a blue bolt of what seemed to be electricity jumped between the three men.

“What was that?” Asked Riben as he tried and failed to analyze the extremely complex spell.

Sam smiled. “Nothing. Let’s keep moving.”

“What? Come on, you can’t do that? What did you do?” Riben asked, pleading.

“You’ll see. Figure it out on your own,” Sam replied with a smile before he started to walk away.

“Gah! Gyre, do you know what kind of spell that was?” Riben asked.

“It was an Illusion Spell, but what it did I have no idea,” Gyre replied.

Unable to determine the spell’s purpose, the two jogged to catch up to Sam.

-

It took nearly an hour for Riben and Gyre to realize that the flies were no longer bothering them.

“A spell to repulse flies and gnats?” Riben asked.

“But it was an Illusion Spell,” said Gyre.

Sam smiled a wicked grin and walked on, holding his silence.

-

Around midday the trio reached the centermost of the bog. Here the road had been paved with cobbles and stone. Dirt would simply turn to mud, even with magic used in the construction. Gnarled trees reached out with their branches like decrepit fingers, and still water echoed the splashes of frogs and beast alike. The croaks, chirps, and occasional roars were unsettling.

Sam enjoyed the bog. He felt amused by all the life in a place so often associated with death. The world around him was alive, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

The trio found a raised piece of road to stop on for their midday meal. Sam cast another spell and the smell of rot vanished like a voice in a crowd. His two companions once again looked on in wonder at such intricate spellwork. They confirmed that they had made the right choice to accompany this man.

Near the end of the meal a glowing blue orb appeared over a nearby watershed. It appeared in an instant and emitted enough mana to make Gyre and Riben go pale.

“A Will-O-The-Wisp,” said Riben in a hushed voice.

“Everybody stay back,” commented Gyre, experience showing in his fearless tone.

Sam, on the other hand stood up with a grin. From his Bestiary he knew Will-O-Wisps only appeared in swamplands where men had died over greed. They often stood guard over hidden treasures, only to be released into the cycle of reincarnation when the greed of the past was revealed.

Just as quick as it appeared, the Will-O-Wisp floated off into the swamp, abandoning the main road down an old animal trail.

“Don’t follow it,” said Gyre. “They are known to lead men to both great fortune, but also great peril.”

“I think we should follow it,” said Sam as he stepped forward.

Gyre and Riben looked up at Sam with pensive eyes. They knew Sam could probably handle whatever danger lay ahead, they weren’t so certain of their own ability to do so.

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, “You two stay on the road here. I’m going to get this Wisp’s treasure.”

In a flash Sam vanished, only a few footprints in the bog remained. Riben and Gyre didn’t even have time to call out to him. He moved far faster than the Wisp had.

Riben sat down on the cobble and wrapped his spear over his knees. Gyre moved towards the bog but hesitated. After a moment of weighing the options, he stepped back and sat down next to his companion.

-

Sam chased after the Wisp, keeping pace with the creature. Numerous plants and beasts laid on his path, each powerful in their own rights, but as Sam approached they parted like the Red Sea. The mire recognized the one before it, and so the swamp opened a path fit for a king.

Over fallen logs, past thick thorn bushes, and across stillwater ponds Sam followed. He cycled his mana as he moved, enhancing his senses while casting spells to protect himself in the case of an ambush. While most of the creatures here bowed to him, a few of the more territorial monsters probably wouldn’t.

Almost as soon as Sam had the thought, a large Crocodile-shaped monster leapt from thick mud and launched itself at Sam’s head.

Prepared for the ambush, Sam put his hand forward and grabbed the snout of the beast. The two locked eyes and, in that moment, the crocodile-monster felt the weight of the entire world. It watched in horror as its swamp was burned to ash and its blood was scattered to the four corners of the world.

Having cast a simple Illusion spell, Sam dropped the disoriented beast and continued to follow the Wisp.

Finally, the swamp opened up into a wide stream. There, among the reed and mud, was the remains to a rowboat. A skeletal hand was stretched up from the mud as if grasping for air. The rowboat had an empty treasure chest on board and had three arrows sticking from its hull. It looked to be the sight of an old robbery.

Sam walked forward, stepping on the surface of the water, and pulled the skeleton from the muck. Holding the bones in one hand, Sam used his free hand to cast a Ruin spell, blasting open a six-foot hole in the dirt by the bankside.

“I know you not, traveler, but let your soul rest in peace,” said Sam as he buried the bones and refilled the hole.

Sam ripped a chunk of the sunken rowboat free and cut it into the shape of a gravestone. On it he etched, ‘Here lies a lost traveler. His boat sank but not his soul.’

The Will-O-Wisp shook and then faded into light. Softly, the words “Thank you” echoed over the glade.

Under the boat, at the bottom of the stream, was a silver locket. Sam could feel the pulse of magic from it, but he couldn’t identify the spell. Sam opened the locket. Inside was a picture of a woman and a little girl, both smiling. Under the cover was an inscription: ‘For the best husband and father in the world.’

Sam hesitated. He wanted to study the locket and figure out the enchantments on it… But after a moment of thought, he hung the thing on the freshly constructed gravesite.

“Who said an adventure needs to end in treasure,” said Sam with a grin as he turned and made his way back toward his friends.