Chapter 6.

"This place is way too creepy, why is the light blue ? Makes everything weird …", anxiously thought Nick. True enough, the three meters wide and five meters high uneven corridor did not look inviting. No surprise in that, a natural tunnel linking caves is not generally a warm and welcoming environment. The clanking noise of his chainmail echoed around him as he bravely trudged through. Yes, bravely, as he still did it against all fear and instincts. Brave does not mean smart though.

For hours this tunnel went, with constant noise and a back slightly bent, because of this large backpack that Nick chose, but thankfully no pain rose. Furthermore, it was not full. He definitely saw too big for his needs but thought that maybe he would have a use for some more space if he happened to find anything of interest on his lonely journey.

Lonely, but not sad. Excluding the fear of being in a strange and uncommon place, Nick did not feel that loneliness was that bad. It allowed him to be more focused and to avoid annoying conversations with uninteresting people. "I wonder if this aversion of others influenced me into going alone. I hope it was a good decision, 'cause it would make me look quite stupid if not …", he thought with a tinge of worry in his mind. A few hours after the first branching, another emerged, this time with only two tunnels. The cave from which birthed this choice was shaped like a half-circle, with a bit of space on an elevated corner, two meters high. Nick quickly climbed up there and took a break by putting down his big bag unceremoniously.

Not a few minutes of closed eyes in contemplation passed that he thought about the leather book he took earlier. He was so focused on getting ahead of the plebe that he quite simply forgot about it. Seconds later, the booklet laid open on his knees, bearing a disappointing content. It seemed to be some sort of fake personal journal, like a novel in an original format. It first described an interesting idea about something called the 'Magical Flow', if in a boring way. It went as follows :

' The Magical Flow is everywhere and is made of many different energies mixed randomly, each classified in a school, also called form. Depending on the form, or school, of the energy, different magical feat can be performed as long as the one performing them, the mage, has the knowledge, skill and quantity of energy required. Every form of magic has properties which can express feats different from each other, even if some exceptions are notable. For example, fire energy, or Blaze School, is the only one that can create and control flames. Nevertheless, before being able to do such a miraculous thing, it is necessary to go through a complex and most arduous training : Cultivation. It has, of course, nothing to do with working the land, as it describes the way a mage "cultivates" the energies, engaging in a process through which they extract a specific form of energy from the Magical Flow to make it theirs. The energy is stocked inside the appendix, hardening it as the training goes without inflating it since it would make it quite painful. This training is a constant of the mage's journey and is composed of multiple steps : Detection, Attraction, Absorption, Purification and Rest. '

"Well, that's a pretty interesting thing I guess, not that imaginative though, as I feel like I have already seen some similar ideas. And the writing lacks the right kind of attraction …", thought Nick. His disappointment was almost visible on his face, as he imagined something more to do with self-defence or a series of tips to help stay alive. A short fiction about magic was far from ideal in his situation. "My breaks won't be as boring as they would have been at least.".

After putting the booklet away, he spent some more time resting his eyes while leaning against his backpack, before getting up and choosing a direction. He did not forget to leave a small mark on the stone at eye height with his knife. A simple five branched star sufficed. Then, back to it !

Which quickly got even more boring than before. Nick had managed to relax after his break and reading a bit, making the journey way less daunting. The constant scenery did not help at all, dark grey walls and pale blue light from the bright blue holes, clanking mail and echoing steps. Boooooring.

While he got more and more bored, Nick also got more and more tired. As he was thinking about taking a longer break whenever he found a new cavern, a sound he did not hear resounded ahead of him. Quite low, like the scratching of a strange material against rocks. And some soft crackling and cackling, some screeching and croaking which he did not hear. He, however, saw the entrance to a new cave and a different shade of light coming from it. A warm moving light.

In the surprise and excitement of finding something new, Nick just unconsciously quickened his pace, finding himself in a large cave with a few crystals randomly disseminated and, most notably, a gathering of small leather tents. There were four of them, too small for him to fit entirely, around a bonfire. And around said bonfire, small humanoids. Only a second passed before shrilled battle cries resounded as those one meter and forty centimetres being rushed in his direction. Weird voices threw what could only be insults, scrawny hands tightly clamped around sculpted bones and angry footsteps assaulted Nick's ears.

But sounds did not matter, as even though he reflexively took a step back before this aggression, a great pain exploded in his mind. A small but impressive bruise appeared on the front of his thigh. He could not see it through his pants, but the bone club of the closest creature did hurt him quite a bit. He clumsily jumped back, as clumsily as he would have done even without the pain, and finally remembered that he was actually clutching a weapon. Awkwardly, he brandished his dark silver spear and tried a poke. It did not do much, only touching the monster's leather-covered shoulder. This unimpressive attack could not be called a thrust, as it didn't draw blood.

Seeing this, the four little things got even more excited and tried to surround the human, attempting to injure him with sneaky sharp bones to the back and clubs to the joints. They were weak, but it definitely looked like they had done something similar before, focusing on weak points. More and more pain brought dizziness to Nick, to the point where he finally struck with force. Solid thrusts crazily came upon his surprised enemies, hitting randomly but bloodily until two finally backed down a few meters to recover. Another one passed out from blood loss, which the last profited from by jumping only a few centimetres from Nick to try and inflict a decisive wound to the human. The chainmail barely stopped the strike, hurting Nick's neck. There was more pain than blood though.

The man instinctively headbutted the creature, breaking its nose and eyebrow with his mail hood. The thing fell to the ground where he soon after died from a thrust through its eye. The last two were of course still injured but could not just flee apparently. They charged, weapons ready and drool to the chin. One was quickly dispatched by a deep wound to the torso, while the other sneaked to the side and hit some ribs. This time was the most painful for Nick, as he felt bones cracking. Not only his though, as half the little creature's weapon fell on the ground in a loud hollow sound. Not losing focus, it just leapt as high and far as it could, landing on the human's back, immediately starting a flurry of punches and scratches.

Nick's head got badly hurt, and he almost passed out. He grabbed the bugger with one hand, trying to make him let go, and regretted it dearly. An immense pain made his dizziness disappear, reality's hate falling upon his mind. Two fingers from his left hand felt warm and sticky for half a second, then extremely alive in the worst way, and then, as he struggled madly, quite absent. The sudden tearing off of his appendages surprised both of the fighters involved, as Nick flailed his arm, and the thing lost its balance and fell on its back.

Adrenaline doing its job, the man turned around and began stabbing insanely towards the ground. Five, ten, tens, until the pain came back with interests. After a dozen bruises, scratches on his cheeks and forehead, and two missing fingers, Nick collapsed on his knees a victor.