The mood has gone from festive to somber, and I already feel myself being relatively sober. This drinking is likely a very temporary joy I have in this life. I wonder why. At first I thought my gift simply healed me to full and the toughening up was something anyone could theoretically do, albeit with a longer healing process. But it has grown increasingly bizarre, this power.

First I found that I had no need for sleep, then food and drink, and lately… air. I remember hearing about the heat death of the universe. I don’t know if this world operates on those same premises, but what if it does? Will I end up floating through space for all eternity? I take a sip. Better enjoy my life, while I can then, huh?

It leads the thoughts back to what I based my previous life on, and what I tried to make into something in this world. Sports, running. To be honest, it seems kind of silly now. In addition to having become someone that probably no one could match in physical prowess, didn’t I find something different? Didn’t I enjoy hanging out in the clan? Earning money, growing stronger, spending time with people I liked, even though they disappeared as if in the blink of an eye? Atna… Atna… I wonder how it could have been with Atna.

My thoughts flow from there to Amina. I honestly think I tried replacing what loss I felt with her, but she has proven… fickle. I don’t understand her aversion to it. Isn’t it just something that would make us both feel happy? Well, until she dies anyways. Yorgar also gave me food for thought. He seems to have had many successful relationships, children, etc. It might not be a bad idea to create a family.

I think of the possible escape from existence I found, Ahorn. And his story. I discussed it with him a little tonight. He was a much more approachable guy once he had some drink in him, and I don’t think he is that big of a dick normally, he probably just has a lot to prove, a role to fill. According to the tale, God basically offered him a second chance at life, and once he accepted, he got bestowed with a gift. He then learned a little about the world before sent down here, but he couldn’t possibly pronounce the language with his biology, so he had that weird dubbing/translation thing done to him.

I stare at his bizarre visage, lying passed out over this table. We are the only two left in this room.

While I could not get him to spill the reward, he did spill the specific goal. Apparently, there is something special on the 120th floor of a dungeon, something only for those with a gift. It makes me think this is a foolish endeavor, since it seems they assimilated quite the competent team before, and only made it to the 26th floor. I myself thought I was unbeatable and got taken out on the 20th at the meadow dungeon, without even knowing how.

Somehow, suddenly, this little reflection of mine gives me a renewed spirit. There is more to overcome, more to do, more to experience. I leave the room, go to the courtyard and swing my sword.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I start our new routine. We go as a group into the dungeon every other day, go home and drink for fun. On the days where we aren’t going to the dungeon, I am training with Yorgar, and spending time with Yorgar, his wife and Amina, who seems to unfortunately grow more and more distant.

Yorgar is teaching me plenty of magic things. I don’t know if I just wasn’t instructed in them, or if they are new inventions, but there are interesting applications. By weaving mana into a creation in a specific order, you can give instructions to your creation. His many flying projectiles are imbued with a force magic, that propels it, then one that crushes it, making it splinter and doing its damage before disappearing. It is quite tricky seamlessly changing the pattern of a string woven like this, and I still have not succeeded.

In addition, I am quite in awe of Yorgar’s ability. He is weaving two different patterns, with this changing caveat, up to 12 times at once. I can at most do two different patterns four times at once. Maybe five, if I don’t mind a small risk of failing. It is incredibly taxing on my concentration, and I doubt I would be able to effectively move, if I used it during a fight.

When I drink with the group, I quite often end up sitting alone with Ahorn, after all others have turned in for the night and make meaningless small talk with him, and I am starting to feel we are growing to be quite fast friends. He is no longer stupidly brazen and arrogant with me, though he wasn’t with those he knew from the beginning, and still is towards Derby, so I guess that whole “earning his respect” thing was quite literally meant, where I thought it was some weird form of posturing.

And six weeks later, a whole posse of veteran, hopeful and strong hunters have showed up.