"I overestimated myself! I never knew counting would be this hard."
I took the piece of paper again and stretched it out. My eyes squinted as I tried to count the lines on the paper, for it would reveal how many years I've been in cryogenic jail and give me insight into how long it has been since the manifestation of the mythological being in our world.
"FUUUCCKKK!!!"
"What happened?" Persis immediately rushed and jumped inside the cart.
"I cannot count!" I complained.
Persis rolled his eyes. "I heard from Arnel, your predecessor, that you humans are educated people! It seems you are an outlier."
"Are you serious, Persis? This!" I pointed at the piece of paper.
"The lines, Persis! There are so many. I can't—I tried to count them all. I can do a rough estimate, but the rings are an estimate themselves, so doing that would make all of this insignificant."
Persis took the paper from my hand, examining it intently while brushing his beard with his hand. After a moment, he took a pencil from somewhere on his belt, wrote something on the paper, and handed it back to me.
"Here!"
I looked at the paper and saw that he had written something on it.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Date!" Persis answered.
"What!?" I paused and looked at the piece of paper. "Why? I thought... I thought you were going to..."
"Ah! Ah! I am educated too, but counting this many isn't the strong suit of dwarves!"
"So? What's the date for, then?" I pointed to the Alibata writings.
"If you can't count it, then let your successor do it. The best thing we can do is mark it with a date, okay? Now is not the time for that! Help me set up the camp!"
With that, I stood up and helped him set up the camp. For some reason, I felt a presence somewhere, as if someone was watching me. I didn't know if it was just my imagination or if it was the danger recognition ability I gained from drinking the red stuff from the Witch of the Mountain. I kept looking over my shoulder, but it seemed I failed to catch the person.
Well, I was too busy, and my mind was too occupied with all the information I had gathered since I woke up in this new reality. Right after the tent was built, I immediately went inside, with my wolf following behind me.
I took an old scroll from my costume and opened it.
Predecessor 28
Dear Successor,
I apologize in advance for burdening you with this responsibility. Like me and those who came before us, you are a cryogenic inmate with a vital role in ensuring humanity's survival. Our sentence of cryogenic sleep may seem like a punishment, but it has given our race a chance to endure in this new world. I cannot say whether this was God's plan, but I urge you to be strong in mind, body, and heart for this mission.
I have an important message to impart to you: magic and fairytales are real in this world! Elves, dwarves, and orcs walk among us now.
I will be brief, as I have only one sheet of paper for this task. Here are my instructions:
Do not reveal your race; it could lead to our downfall, and that of the other cryogenic inmates. Preserve our way of writing. Write a letter to the next successor at the end of your journey, and label it with a number that follows the number on this scroll.
Create your own bibliography, and place it in the jar in the corner of the laboratory. It will be a keepsake for whoever completes our mission.
Do not trust anyone completely, but make friends with those who are willing to return the favor. Most importantly, find Rajiv Bahadur's Time Capsule Report. My predecessor wrote about it in his letter, and according to him, it holds the truth about this mess. Your mission is to make humanity, especially men, relevant in this new world. Continue the pursuit of science, including the knowledge of other races that could prove useful to us.
Good luck, soldier.
Sincerely,
Sg. Arnel Paray
As I read the letter from my predecessors again, it's hard not to recall the things I've been through, and I realized that there are many tasks I should have completed but failed to pursue. I used to think that the internet and computer games made time fly, but it seems that what really makes a person lose their perception of time is having goals and the obstacles that hinder their attainment.
I looked at my wolf, who was sleeping on the opposite side of me, still biting the canister made of bamboo.
Curiosity about what's inside the bamboo never left my mind, but fear that he might leave me prevented me from stealing or taking the bamboo canister from him by force. However, just as I took a silent step toward him, he woke up and looked at me directly. Pen-pen's eyes seemed to ask if I was really willing to sacrifice our friendship for a mere canister, which I was not, so I went back to my seat.
"Pen," I muttered, "I pray that whatever's inside that canister isn't related to this mess." I sighed. "Not to mention that I still have to get whatever Mau'Ti's reward is from the underground arena."
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Suddenly, I heard Grumbart calling my name from outside the tent, and before he could finish speaking, I rushed out. "Hey! Musang, Gorg is awake. He—" But I didn't let him finish. We both sprinted to my friend's side, and as I entered his tent, I saw St. Therese attending to him, with Persis sitting beside him. The dark elf who had been with us during the retrieval of the golden cross and the carbon section of the Methuselah tree trunk was also there. Gorg looked at me.
"I don't feel... good, my... friend. For some reason... I can feel crippling pain... all over... my body," Gorg said in a broken voice, as if his lungs were collapsing every time he opened his mouth.
Persis stood up and made room for me to sit beside my friend. "Everything will be fine, my friend. We have a healer with us, and I know she knows how to fix you," I said softly, but deep inside, I was praying that they would never uncover the root cause of his sickness, for I was the one who put my friend in danger. If only I had maneuvered my negotiation with Gun'Ter better, this would never have happened.
I looked over to our only healer, hoping there might be a solution other than retrieving the medallion.
"I've tried all the diagnostic methods I know, and they've led to no conclusions. But thankfully, Mikay, the daughter of Niela, helped me with matters concerning the soul, and indeed, the soul is the problem," she said.
"What do you mean?" Persis asked, confused.
She took a bowl, crushed some herbs, and performed an enchantment on them before making Grog, who was very weak, sip the mixture.
For some reason, I couldn't help but be drawn to the beauty of the dark elf, who was quietly sitting in the corner. Since I met her, she had been very silent, only speaking when it concerned her.
"This is a Fae-related sickness," the softly spoken elf said. "There are many creatures that can steal or devour souls. In this region, there are no recorded cases of such creatures because they are despised by angels, along with demons, werewolves, vampires, and any being born of darkness or hell. His soul is damaged. If he encountered those beings, he is fortunate to still be alive."
I was relieved to hear this, as it did not mention anything about the shaman's medallion that I had stolen.
"So? How can we cure him?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from any mention of the source of the illness.
"As of now, there are no records regarding this. Only the Necronomicon will reveal the truth. But alas, since the fall of humanity, the library of the ancient Vatican was raided, and the book has been lost," she said.
Everyone felt a sense of hopelessness at St. Therese's words, and I personally felt immense guilt. I wanted to go back and steal the damned medallion from Gun'Terl.
"For now, all I can do is relieve his pain. The council of this band is already considering leaving Gorg here; we can't afford to have one person delay our mission. But Gun'Terl, my cousin, found some medicine to prolong Grog's life. That's why the one-handed orc opened his eyes," she added.
My eyes widened at what the elf had mentioned.
"Gun'Terl?" I muttered.
"Gun'Terl is here!?" I raised my voice to get the elf's attention.
"Yes, he requested and was immediately granted permission to join at the last minute," Grumbart answered, giving me a stern look. I couldn't shake the feeling that he already knew about the shaman's medallion.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside our tent. We rushed out to find our people in chaos, chasing small humanoid creatures wearing caps that resembled classical dwarves of Santa Claus. Each of them was carrying a sack. Persis grabbed one of the dwarves by the arm to ask what was happening.
"THE FOOD! THEY ARE STEALING THE FOOD!" the dwarf yelled, pointing at the particular unknown beings as they stole his provisions.
"YOU RUNT! GET BACK HERE! I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME BACK MY FOOD!"
Suddenly, the same creature dashed between us, carrying a wooden crate full of food on its back.
"That's mine!" St. Therese exclaimed.
We were about to chase after the creature when St. Formael interrupted us.
"You, get my stuff!" he commanded, pointing at us. St. Therese didn't wait for us to respond; she gently pushed us toward St. Formael. "Don't worry about me; you should follow orders from an angel."
With that, we followed St. Formael, who pointed out the runt that had taken his ration. We immediately obeyed his order.
Chaos had subsided, and our band was left with no food. With the sun still up, we tried hunting and foraging, but the animals seemed unusually aware of us, and the trees were out of season, bearing no fruit. Despite our efforts, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was stalking me.
From time to time, I visited Gorg to check on his condition and attempted to locate Gun'Terl to steal back the medallion. However, it seemed that Gun'Terl was watching my movements and actively avoiding me.
As the sun finally set, Niela decided we should build rafts to fish in Laguna Lake the next day. When I returned to visit Grog, I saw a red orc, strangely dressed in ancient Roman clothing, sitting beside him. This was the first time I had seen an orc showing sympathy to another orc. Gorg had once mentioned to me that orcs are not very sympathetic creatures, being inherently selfish and boastful. I couldn't help but ask who this orc was.
"Hello!?" I awkwardly asked.
The red orc turned his face toward me, and I was shocked by how much he resembled Grog. "Are you by any chance related to Grog?" I asked again.
"Yes..." he paused, "Actually, yes," he softly answered. Then he stood up and walked toward me. "Thank you for being there for him. I should be the one always with him. But for everything I've done, for every pain I've caused him, I don't deserve to be anywhere near him." For an orc, his voice was very soft, and his tone was filled with regret before he left the tent.
"What a very strange orc," I muttered.
Under the lamp light beside Grog, who was sleeping very deeply, I opened the piece of the carbon print of the cross-section of the trunk and tried to count again. Despite the peaceful and quiet surroundings, it was almost impossible to count all of them. Suddenly, Pen-pen entered our tent and sat beside me. His eyes seemed to ask why Grog, who was so familiar to him, was not awake as he always had been. I petted him, knowing that although his powers contributed to Grog's current situation, he was blameless. I am the one who orchestrated everything.
I couldn't do much for now, but perhaps I could help the people build the raft. Maybe the cover of darkness would hide me from Gun'Terl's watch. In fact, this could give me the opportunity to resolve the issue. So, I got up and helped Grumbart and the dark elf build the raft. Working together on the activity helped us bond, and I learned the name of the beautiful dark elf—Ma'Yu. She remained as silent as ever, fitting her battle style. I still remembered how our party moved in sync whenever we encountered wild monsters.
Suddenly, someone grabbed me from behind. Shock rendered me unable to scream, and the hand holding my jaw was firm, keeping my mouth shut. Due to the darkness, it was hard to identify my attacker until he threw me to the ground like a dirty rag.
"So, it seems I finally understand why you are interested in the ancient scripture that I won back then in the underground arena," the mysterious figure said in an intimidating tone.
I was stunned when I heard his voice. "Mua'Ti!?" I exclaimed, surprised as I recovered from the ground.
He showed me a piece of plywood with my writings on it.
"What... What's that?" I tried to deny.
"You know what this is!" he pressed the broken plywood closer to me. "Drop your act, kid. I've met many people; I'm no stranger to lies. I've lived with thieves, murderers, and pirates. With that said, guess how I discovered my affinity for violence?"
He stooped down to my eye level, and I saw his terrifying smile. It wasn't really a smile—it was more like a grin, similar to how dogs and wolves show their teeth before they attack.
"It's impossible..."
"WAPANGGGG!!" he slap me.
"Cough!... Cough!... Cough!... Cough!"
"I hate to hurt people. Being violent doesn't come naturally to me, but whenever I find someone lying to me, I do everything to uncover the truth. I've discovered that interrogation with a sprinkle of pain is an effective tool as well."
"WAPANGGGG!!"
"Cough!... Cough!... Cough!... Cough!"
"Spill it, kid, or I will proceed to much more painful methods. Believe me, I've learned a lot about torture for the sake of truth."
"Fuck you!" I responded defiantly. I am not the same person he knew back in the underground arena.
"You know what? I'm not convinced that your face is your real face; you seem to be wearing a mask! Let me help you breathe!" he said as he grabbed my head, trying to tear off the mask. I was surprised by what he said. It seemed my costume and my act were not enough to fool everyone in this reality. This was the second time someone had discovered my true identity.
"NOW! PEN-PEN!" I shouted.
My wolf attacked him from behind.
He freed my head and grabbed Pen-pen's mouth, forcibly prying it open. I immediately grabbed my torch and attempted to strike his head with fire. He easily disarmed me and kicked me in the stomach, sending me flying.
Pen-pen, with his ferocity, lunged at Mua'Ti, who swiftly dodged. I seized the opportunity to dive into the shadows and reappear behind the formidable warrior. Instinct guided me to act quickly, so I grabbed his head and pulled it toward me. Sensing danger, I swiftly jumped away from him while my wolf circled around us, looking for an opportunity to pounce.
"You seem to have learned some new tricks since the last time I saw you in the underground arena!" he smirked, clearly surprised by my actions. Unlike before, when I cowered under the corpses of the fallen, I was now confident in my ability to dive into the shadows and escape if things went awry. However, since he already knew my true identity, I couldn't afford to leave him without securing my safety.
He was about to attack when the waters beside us receded so dramatically that it was impossible to ignore. The lake seemed to shrink, and in the faint light of the moon, it gleamed fresh and still alive. The unusual recession of the waters compelled me to investigate what was happening.
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