The sun was setting in the forest, a beautiful orange glow filling the area as Michael limped along. His shirt had a noticeable, singed hole in the back, and the leather armor didn’t look much better. “Ow… Oww…” After he wiped out the rest of the monsters in the area he had used the blood spell to locate more but the location had been misleading. He didn’t expect the monsters to be so far away, walking a good ten minutes before he’d seen any again. He straightened himself out, flinching as the singed part of his back arched. There were only two goblins and it was easy enough to take care of them, especially with his new fancy lantern staff. He put the staff with the lantern in front of him and uttered a few words. “Let it burn.”

The flames poured in front of the lantern like a flamethrower, catching the two in flames. Almost instantly chaos broke out, the two goblins screaming and dropping everything to try to put themselves out. It was gross but in a way, the fact that it was so jarring and foreign to him made it better than dealing with them with a stick. It took a few minutes and one even managed to make it a good twenty feet before they fell to the ground. He was happy he found a source of fire because there was no way he’d be able to take on people in the condition he was in now.

He did find it a bit bitter that his new weapon was the only one that had caused him so much pain. The goblins probably had a better chance at taking him down with torches than they did with those messed up swords. He sat against a tree, making sure not to hit the burnt part of his back against it. It was tiring trying to make it through the forest. He almost tripped multiple times getting here, and the limp wasn’t helping. Anything outside goddamn society was a deathtrap, even the city was better than this trash.

Another thing about the forest was that there was a surprising lack of food. He expected at least some nuts or apples or something, but nothing he found on the trees looked tasty enough to eat. “I’m going to kill everything and the reward better be a goddamn buffet...” He said, sighing as he summoned the book with a flick of his wrist. He didn’t expect the giant thing to come crashing down on his legs, and rubbed against his burns trying to catch it. “Ah, god… damn it all.” After a moment of whining, he shook it off and opened the book, looking for anything he could use for the situation.

The spells were specific, to the point where he wondered if they ever had a use at all. Spells to become lighter, to write down things with your mind... “A spell to change hair color… needs dye and a magic stone? Then I can just fucking dye my own hair, oh my god. These suck.” The only useful ones he had right now were the blood and flame spell, and he was only using the latter as a crutch. He tossed the book in front of him, unsummoning it. Running his hands through his hair, he considered the situation. He was alone in the woods near a group of goblins with no food when it was almost getting dark.

It was getting on his nerves. “…I really need to get going.” He said to now one, or perhaps to the goddess. He bit a bit off the inside of his cheek, sticking his thumb inside and taking a small bit of blood out. “Blood, I will grow… Let me see.” The incantation fizzled through his body slightly. His hand dried and his cheek closed up, simple as that. The effect wasn’t as strong as when he cut his finger, but the visions only lasted for a few seconds instead of entire minutes. Michael couldn’t just stand there drooling at the mouth in the middle of the forest so he was glad that he could dampen the effect. There was also the fact that it hurt a lot less, too.

The vision brought him back to the familiar sight of the goblins. The hideout was noticeably emptier, The goblins more spaced out with only around 14 in the camp. He couldn’t get a good view but he could see the roasted animal they had over the fire, something that looked like a pig if it had the body of a horse. It was disgusting but… it might be the only food someone with as little survival instinct as him could find. He’d taken out a total of 11 of the little monsters down at this point, but even he knew trying to fight that many would just be suicide.

Even with his original body, they’d just smother him to death with their numbers, a big and gross dogpile with him in the bottom. He was getting hungry, too. For the tenth time that day, he sighed in defeat, wondering how fucking unlucky he was for the Goddess of Origin to have chosen him. As he removed his shoes, the night finally turned dark. At some point the only source of light was the lantern, shining over him and keeping him from the dark. It was cold and dark, a much larger danger to him than the goblins.

He had to act fast. With a new, desperate quickness to his step, he ran towards the base, ignoring the cramps in his singed back. He bit the inside of his cheek one last time, whispering under the harsh dark. “Blood, I will grow… Let me see.” The brief vision had confirmed what he had thought. The goblins were few and tired, their camp defenses loose, and Michael was going to set the whole damn thing on fire. He had to be quick, just a simple run to the walls and then he’d let loose with the flames until he was sure it would spread, hopefully getting most of those disgusting monsters on the way.

He just had to watch out for any goblins that knew how to use fire spells. In fact, if he made it out of there without seeing a single goblin he’d consider it a win. He just had to find the camp first. The forest was larger than sin and if it wasn’t for the blood spell he’d have been running in circles by now. Hell, even with the shitty spell he couldn’t help but get lost. He’d have been better off with a map. Hell, even just a compass would have suited him better. He breathed in deeply, trying to get the rush of the blood spell out of his head.

Even as he complained the giant grin on his face showed. The spells might have been shitty but they were new and amazingly foreign. The flamethrower spell he’d been using was weak, less a flamethrower and more like using a lighter and hairspray on a larger scale. There was no fuel to stick to anything so unless they were idiots and cowards like the goblins it really wouldn’t amount to much. He knew they were braver in groups, which meant he couldn’t let himself be seen.

The camp wasn’t too far away, and soon he started hearing the unintelligible chattering of the goblins. Hiding in the bushes, he watched. He was in a part of the camp where the inside was blocked off by barricades, small wooden fences made by thin bunches of wood. It was empty but he had to make sure they wouldn’t be coming around for routine checks. It turned out there were either too few or they were too stupid because after twenty-five minutes no one came around. He jumped out of his hiding spot, it was time to begin.

With a deep breath, he chanted the words. He pulled the staff into the ground, rooting lantern in place, “Let it burn” His voice came out deep and magical, and the flames came pouring intensely. It was more than he expected, and the flame exploded outwards filling the wooden walls with fire. He could feel it burn his face, cursing and trying to move back. His head felt light as the fire poured, and his stomach started feeling hot and heavy. After a few seconds passed the flame sputtered out without his orders, and he kneeled to the floor in a sweaty mess.

He felt tired and empty, his head reeling in pain whenever he moved. What the hell happened to get him to this state? Were the spells limited? Why wasn’t he told that!? In a fit of desperation, he forced himself up with the staff, barely able to keep himself upright. He took a deep breath as he hobbled away, every second absolute agony for his brain. He needed to get out of there, fast. If they found him he’d be in no state to fight back. Only a miracle would save him if he was found.

The flames poured behind him as he struggled to get away. The fire had gotten a good start and was now spreading to the rest of the walls. It was so loud he could barely hear the goblin’s screaming in fear and confusion. The sounds of disgusting helplessness that came with the world falling apart around them. He didn’t want to look back. It would have made it all too real. Nothing was funny about burning a home down, and even now his heart was pounding at the thought.

Well, his head was pounding for plenty of reasons, his morals being on the lower end of that. In a misstep he lost his balance, his sight going blurry as he fell to his side. He wanted to pass out, wanted to wake up and find himself back in his nice modern house with his parents and sister. He wanted to wake up to his parents gently arguing about their business and his sister eating on the table with a bored look in her eyes. His eyes stayed open, though. In a fit of pain, he seized up in his stomach, shaking there for a moment before things went back to normal.

The flames were getting bigger, and although the camp looked distant enough from trees he didn’t want to take that chance. He got on his knees and began slowly trudging away from the camp, holding the lantern loosely on the side. He couldn’t leave it behind, the forest too dark to make anything out otherwise. Slowly the sound of fire began to quiet down, meaning he was making progress. He crawled until he felt he had to take a rest again, flopping to his side and gasping for air. His eyes felt heavy and he felt so comfortable lying in the dirt despite his massive headache but he picked himself up again.

At some point, the migraine lessened and he felt like he could stand again. With shaky hands he picked himself up, using the staff as a crutch he slowly made it away until he couldn’t hear anything anymore. It was freeing the moment the silence fully filled the forest and Michael, in a tired and emotionally drained state, sat next to one of the trees. He was delirious at this point, with no sleep and being in the dark confines of the forest. With the comfortable light of the lantern shining his spot, he closed his eyes and fell unconscious, a small smile on his dirty and tired face.

_______________________________________________________

In a dark void of nothing, a place where nothing resided, was a single woman. She looked angry as she stared at nothing, omnisciently watching her disciple fight. “What is he doing!? Are the forsaken really this stupid?” She couldn’t help but laugh as he started beating goblins to death with his own might, only to completely forget to look for magic stones in their bodies. He even completely went past the one that was adept in magic! She almost wanted to go down to give him a proper lesson.

She groaned, wondering what kind of information she’d give him after he finished the mission. He was unconscious now so she had some time to come up with what to give him. At first she wanted to give him some spells, but he was too ignorant of how the world worked. without teaching him common sense there’d be no way of him making it out of the forest. All the courage she’d mustered up to speak with another living being and it would end up with his death!

She whipped out a small notebook, furiously writing down what she needed him to know. There was always some ritual involving origin magic, it was the reason one could be so strong despite the lack of mana. That didn’t matter if her disciple had the brain of a goblin. Time passed until she was deliriously murmuring under her breath, coming up with whatever she could to help him. “Does… he even know about mana reserves? Oh god… I might as well teach him how not to drool on himself.”

She continued until she saw Michael groggily wake up. “I… really hope this is enough.” She muttered under her breath as the notebook burned to flames in front of her. She watched on in worry as he awoke, just now realizing how crappy the gift he received was. At the very least he’d be dead within the week… In a hurry, she added one spell in his repertoire, hurriedly crafted and lazily done but a bit useful in this situation. She hurriedly sent it down as well, even with its imperfections. She could just fix it as a reward for later.