[8] Preparation Before The Leave

A week had passed before I finished my preparations for going to the capital.

I spent the first day officially checking out of the inn that I was living in and moving to a secluded part of the forest that I'd made sure no one knew how to access. The shopkeeper couldn't have been happier when I left; his smile would probably haunt my dreams if I wasn't already haunted. Nevertheless, the news that I checked out was quick to spread.

A party was held that night with everybody invited to join as well as an extremely large discount on the alcohol and food, as if a festival was currently going on. I would have been offended if not for the fact that I wasn't physically being disturbed. From all the noise as I dried the meat I set aside, I could have only guessed that they didn't stop their celebration until the wee moments of the morning.

Living in the forest for the next few days was peaceful. It reminded me of the time before I had found this village.

The reason for this sudden change of environment was to let myself get used to this as traveling to the capital was going to take a few days to a week depending on how fast I travel, which meant that I needed to relearn the basics of living in the wild.

It was pretty easy for me to go back to my roots. A problem I didn't think I would encounter was Kind's discomfort, as these are the first times he slept without his little bed. The little bear often readjusting every few seconds, in turn waking me up.

I didn't mind the fussing; even if he woke me up for no reason, I made sure that he would at least be calm when I went back to sleep.

I understand that he wasn't used to this kind of life. I could only guess how he was raised when he was still living with the old man—something about food served on a diamond platter, or whatever that saying went. He could take all the time he needed to get used to this.

In fact, if I'd known, I would have brought his little bed if it weren't for the fact that I needed all the inventory space that I had.

On the second day, I went to the town as Mr. Tork, buying up all kinds of supplies that I needed for my journey.

People got a little suspicious. Why was a wealthy merchant shopping in bulk without even the help of his maids or the hunters he would often boast?

I panicked a little on the inside, but thankfully Elganor's twin brother, Bolgie, saved me before anything could stick. He managed to ask the right question, and I managed to pull a story out of my ass concerning that these items will be personally used by my daughter, which meant everything needed to pass by my inspection before she could use it.

Lucky as it was, I set aside that information and made sure that if a situation ever arises in the future, I will be prepared to handle it.

With the gold I got from selling those materials, as well as the savings from the past months, I was pretty much as rich as this town's elders—the richest bastards of them all.

I still needed to keep track of my expenses and make sure that I had enough to survive a couple of days in the capital before finding a job there, but I didn't cheap out on new equipment and knives.

After all, if I lost or broke one of them on the way there, I would be lacking the means to defend myself from wildlife and monsters the rest of the way. I don't want to get majorly injured before the entrance exams.

I upgraded my daggers, started using real metal armor, and most importantly, I bought grimoires.

The grimoires weren't that impressive; they were expensive though, the most basic ones costing around fifty gold each. Without a proper magic teacher, I was limited to the amount of spells that I learned from the grimoires I bought.

Under this world's rules, I was a fighter. With my race included, I was specifically a shadow fighter—"The Soldier of Shadows," as the opening Gods gave me when I transported into this world.

Fighters would usually use different styles of celestial energies to perform the moves they do; I couldn't. Something that was only unique to their craft and their classes. It was confusing; I still don't understand it myself, but magic seemed to come naturally for me. I was a freak of nature, truly.

The old man often told me that I had a talent for control. Control of the body, mind, or magic—I could control it as precisely as I want. Something that would take even the higher-ends of Magicians and Warlocks years to master. The only thing that held me back was myself.

Just like the magic system in this world, I did not understand what he meant nor the implication that he no doubt omitted from me. The only thing I could do was get stronger and hope that with this strength I would be able to overcome anything that this world could throw at me.

By the time that I finished everything that I needed to do on my list, I was ready to leave. Which meant that today would be my last day in this town.

Today would be the last day I could visit him for a while.

"I'll come back, you know."

I was back in his memorial, hands in my pockets, no longer hiding myself behind a spell. If this would be the last time I could see his grave, it was only right to visit him without hiding who I was.

King was curled up beside the stone, his claw scratching the grass beneath him as he refused to look at anything else but the flowers I had placed on his grave, the box empty and forgotten at the side.

I'm pretty sure that King didn't understand that the old man was gone; the magical residue of him in the air was the only thing that King knew of yet he could not see where it was coming from, unknowing of the corpse that was buried underneath us. I have a feeling that he thought that the old man was playing hide and seek.

He will understand with time that I don't doubt. For now, I don't think that it would be any good to shove it in his face that we're all that we have.

I sighed, turning my attention back to the grave. My joints felt like hot glue was pasted at every crevice, making every movement an arduous task. It didn't help how my chest constricted and my vision wavered the more I forced myself to stand in place.

With a sharp inhale, I said in one quick succession, "I don't know when, I don't know how, but I promise that I'll come back. For you."

I didn't know what I was trying to say. Of course I would come back. I would destroy this world inside and out just to come back and talk to him like old times.

My words didn't feel like anything in my ears. Useless breath wasted for what?

I kneeled to his level, finding the strength to do so from the amount of self-loathing that refused to budge at the back of my throat.

For a moment I pretended that he was sitting here, looking at me with a leveled stare. He would say something truly inspiring, and I wouldn't listen. I should have been listening; I should have cherished every moment that we had.

I didn't know that you would be gone.

"I'll be back..."

The defeat in my voice sounded pathetic to my ears. It didn't sound like a proud student of the old man; did I really deserve to have learned from him?

I wiped my eyes despite no tears having fallen, the action bringing me to my feet as I felt the disappointment in my chest fester and grow the longer I stayed here. It shouldn't have come as a surprise when that particular side of my brain managed to let me taste some of the venom that it had been brewing for who knows how long:

I should have been the one to die that day.

Magical residue in the area began concentrating at one point, effectively cutting my pity party short before I could do something the old man would not be happy with.

It didn't feel all that powerful; the seal I placed around the mural should be able to take it, which meant that the village would be safe from whatever this is.

King climbed on my shoulder the moment he noticed as well, growling at the area that the magic was gathering. I grabbed my newly bought daggers and was two seconds away from jumping to conclusions and starting to slash the air when I felt a warmth on my head.

My magical eyes activated before I realized I did it.

He stood right in front of me: Hexmott Vermillion in all of his glory. The magical residue that was imitating his look was fading from his feet. Unlike the usual nonchalant stare, he held a wide smile on his face.

He looked... proud.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Young Willow?"

I didn't realize how much I missed his voice until that very moment. I didn't stop the tears as they fell. My eyes were glued to his form as I watched him truly fade away. 

The surrounding life seemed duller as the magic left. I have never seen a tree droop so low, nor have I seen grass this deep in color. Everything felt dead despite how it looked.

Yet in that moment, I have never felt so alive.