The double edged blade of the short sword had a slight shine as Jonathan carefully picked it up from where it fell. The crows hopped closer. Jonathan considered his options; he couldn’t climb up the pipe that spit him onto the riverbank, it was too high, even if he did, he had nowhere to go. He could run into the forest behind the crows, he was sure they would be after him. He had no choice but to fight them. He was still bleeding and he was sure one of his ribs was bruised at best, but he had no choice.

The short sword he had had a reach of about 30 centimetres and the crows were about a meter away now. They had created a formation around him, one to his left, one on his right and one right in front of him. The other crows decided to hang back. The one to his left was getting closer to him; it looked like it had noticed the blood flowing from his hand and was excited at the prospect of easy food.

Jonathan ducked down and quickly used his short sword to spray some of the water around his feet at the crow to his front, before grabbing a stone and throwing it at the crow to his left before lunging at the crow to his right. He missed. The crow at front had recovered and tried to grab him with its sharp talons. He stumbled to his left to dodge before bringing the short sword in an awkward slash down on the crows’ back, cutting deep into the joint at its wings.

It squawked angrily before hopping back, the crow to his left jumped at him, aiming to peck at his head. He shuffled backwards to dodge, hitting a stone with his heel, causing him to fall down. The bird flexed its wings in victory, giving him enough time to lunge the short sword into its belly. He twisted it, opening its belly and dowsing him in its entrails. The third bird, the one on his right backed off and flew to the other group of birds. The bird with the injured wing tried to fly way to before falling.

Jonathan wiped some of the entrails off his face, before grabbing a stone and using it to brain the injured bird. He wanted to wretch but there was nothing left to vomit. He watched the crows. They looked like they were trying to figure out what to make of him. Jonathan used his short sword to cut off the wings of the two birds he killed, making sure to keep his eyes on the crows in front of them. He didn’t know what he could use them for but he was hungry and he didn’t want to risk fully butchering them in front of the murder of crows.

Murder, heh. You gotta love the irony, he thought to himself.

He picked them wings up and shuffled slowly to his left where the nearest part of the forest was. He did it until he was in-between the birds and the forest. He then backed into the forest slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements. Suddenly the crows all squawked in unison. He moved quicker. Just as he reached the mouth of the forest, he saw a large black crow, twice as large as the others arrive, squawk at the others, then look at him and spread its wings. The inside of its wings were a dark purple. He realised it was the leader of the group. Then as if it lost interest in him, it started to peck at the other carcasses in the water.

He turned and ran into the forest. The birds did not follow him.

As he walked he thought about something. He had just killed two crows and he got no notification. Wasn’t he supposed to get experience points? Wasn’t he supposed to level up? Was it really not like the RPG’s he played? He had to get to a sfe place before thinking about that.

The forest was full of tall trees, tall enough to block out most of the sunlight, though some sunlight managed to hit the forest floor. Most of the trees had shapes he couldn’t recognize, one tree had square leaves, and another had a purple trunk. They all looked so alien to Jonathan. A few trees were surrounded by mushrooms which Jonathan made a mental note to avoid, while those nearer to the mouth of the forest had some moss growing on them which Jonathan decided to note as a possible source of water. He couldn’t remember where he read that, but he hoped it was the truth. He certainly couldn’t drink from the river of dead bodies.

A wave of pain suddenly washed over him. The adrenaline running through his veins had started to run out. He had pains in his shoulders, his ribs felt like they hit with a bat and he was still bleeding from his hand.

“I need to close this now.” He said to himself. He was already starting to feel lightheaded from blood loss.

He briefly considered using a vane from one of the feathers as a needle to stitch himself up, but he thought better of it. He didn’t know if the crows carried a disease, besides he had no material to use as thread and even if he did, he didn’t know if he had the guts or if his hand was steady enough for the job. He needed another way, he needed fire.

Fire would allow him to cook the crow wings, hopefully killing off any harmful bacteria, plus he could cauterize the wound. He knew that it would suck and it could leave him more susceptible to infection but he had to stop the bleeding now.

He gathered up some dry sticks, leaves and moss around him and a rough stone. He knew he needed flint stone but he didn’t know how it looked, all rocks looked the same to him. So he tried to make do with what he found. He sat himself down on the forest floor using a tree to balance himself.

“All I need is a spark. Just one spark and I would be set.” He said as he put the stone in the middle of the pile of dry foliage before surrounding it with sand.

“Here we go”

Jonathan brought down his short sword onto the stone. There was no spark.

“Come on baby, come on baby, come on baby.”

He tried again, this time on an edge. There was no spark. He tried again, this time with the short sword at an angle. There was no spark. He tried and tried, each time changing something for almost an hour. There was no spark. He felt exhausted, his arm was throbbing with pain but he couldn’t give up. He needed fire.

He tried again for almost 30 minutes more. Finally a spark tore off from the stone onto the foliage, creating some smoke. He fanned the flames and blew into it to grow the flame. When the flame had turned into a proper fire he left the blade of his short sword in the fire. When it was red hot, he took it out, using his shirt as makeshift glove so he couldn’t burn himself. He stared at the hot blade for almost a minute before taking a deep breath and bringing it down onto his hand.

“Ughhh~shitshitshitshitshit”

The blade let out a loud cruel hiss as it cooled itself on his flesh. The pain was too much to bear. Jonathan passed out.

Jonathan floated in a dark, empty dreamscape. Weightless and thoughtless, he floated on and on.

Suddenly he was in his room with Eddie, Kevin and Ralf’s backs turned to him. They were leaving. He tried to call for them, but he had no voice. He reached for them but his body couldn’t leave his bed. Eddie looked back, smiled and winked a knowing wink.

He felt his bed get wet as water started to fill his room. He tried to stand up but hands appeared from his bed and held him down, even his view was fixed onto the ceiling. Just then the ceiling showed the visage of his father with a look that Jonathan never wanted to see. A look that broke his heart. The look of disappointment.

“I hoped that you could have done better, John. For your mother, for me, for you.”

The landscape changed. Now he was back in the dungeon. His hands were around the old man’s neck. The old man was begging for his life. There were tears running down his eyes. He felt his arms get stronger as he strangled the old man.

“Please, I have family. I don’t want to die. Please.”

Jonathan woke up.

Jonathan rose to a start, almost putting himself into the fire. He was sweating. Hard.

“Breathe, breathe.”

The old mans’ face ate at him. It was in front of his eyes now.

“He’s not there. He’s not there”

[Your mind is being corroded.]

[Skill: [Mantra of Madness] has temporarily stopped your mental erosion and eased your fatigue.]

[You mind will be under more stress later.]

What the hell.

He felt calm, he thought that [Calm Mind] would calm him down, but it looked like nightmares did not fall under the category of ‘mental attack’. It also looked like [Mantra of Madness] would cause him more anguish in the future and it activated by itself.

This was a problem. A problem he couldn’t fix right now. He just had too little information about how the skill worked.

As he thought about it he realized that something about him was different. Before he could figure it out a notification appeared in front of his eyes:

[You have killed: An elderly slave of the Octavian Empire and two Crimson Crows.]

[You have gained 609 experience points.]

[You have reached Level 8.]

[You have earned 9 stat points.]

[You may use ‘Appraise’ to view your attributes and allocate points.]

Jonathan didn’t see the need to wait.

Appraise.

Name:

Race:

Gender:

Title(s):

Class:

Level:

Traits:

Jonathan Sipho Mthembu

Otherworld Human

Male

-

Enslaved Human

8

[Racial] Tenacity [Character] Monster in Mans’ Clothing

Attributes:

Strength:

Attack:

Defense:

Agility:

Magical Power:

Magical Mending:

Magical Defense:

Luck:

15

15 (+3)

10

17

0

0

2

1

Skill Points:

9

Skills and Magic:

Skills:

Magic:

[Quick Learner][Calm Mind][Attention to Detail][Pain Tolerance Lv.1][Will to Live][Paranoia][Temperance][Appraisal][Desperation][Starved][Mantra of Madness

-none-

Abnormal Status Condition

Slaves’ Curse Collar

Gods’ Displeasure

Unable to directly rebel against captors without being paralyzed in pain. Increases to match all resistances.

Due to your status as an otherworldly human, you have earned the being in charge of Arda’s displeasure. You have no ability to use magic as a result and your luck decreases.

He had gotten stronger. It looked like experience was consolidated after a rest.

He sat down on the ground again. He looked at his skills and smiled at the 9 stat points he had waiting for him.

He thought about his goals. He needed information, he knew too little about too much. He needed to find out how to get home and he knew he needed to learn a whole lot before he could find a way. He needed to get stronger. He needed to be able to survive until he could get home. He needed to be stronger than any threat.

He turned his head to the mouth of the forest. He needed to be stronger than the Empire. He needed…to destroy it.