It's Been a While

The mass grave, without a doubt, is a large area. I have been walking for a while now, and all I can see is nothing but mounds of bones. Some of the mounds are segregated: a head for the heads or a hip bone for the hip bones. It must have been a sight to see them in the flesh. It is getting clear to me that it is likely the product of a war that happened somewhere during my long slumber and not from a pandemic.

This person who decided to make a trophy out of these dead people is a complete madman beyond salvation. Some empires, especially those that thirst for war, practice the right that whoever wins the war can take the dead bodies and have them as a trophy—a sign of their victory and their cruelty. The opinions for this act are divided, and their grounds depend on what side of the war they were involved in. If you're one with the winning empire, it is a victorious day, and it will go down in history. If you lose, you must remember that you lost a lot of your men, family, or friends—and their lifeless bodies are piled in your enemy's backyard. I wonder if those people who are committed to this act are still living and breathing or if they are now decorations in someone's hall.

I've been walking for a while now, and the scenery hasn't changed ever since I left the room; in every direction, there's nothing but fog and dead bodies. It does get tedious after a while, but what interests me is whenever I lock in my mana to the bodies, I can somehow see their mana residue. Every person can use mana, and every mana they absorb becomes unique to them. Light mana and dark mana have a lot of subcategories in terms of expertise, and as an example, healing skills fall under light mana usage, but healing skills break down into different categories like physical healing magic, restorative magic, and so on. These can also be affiliated to dark mana if everything aligns; the only difference is the recipient.

Once a person has already established their mana affiliation, when they absorb mana, it'll change and be unique to them, depending on their capacity and capability. If a person can reach mastery of the skill, their body will reshape the raw mana they absorb so that person can use it properly.

In that case, the dead bodies out here with mana residue happened due to the fact that they were unable to utilise it before dying, and it then held dearly to their bones since no one else could use it except them. Most of the populace doesn't have a mana core; it requires life to train for it, or it comes naturally to let people do things that involve mana whenever or wherever they like. A lot of individuals try to train their bodies to death to obtain such privilege, but they can only reach the point of storing mana temporarily, and if left unused, they will experience a mana bomb.

There are two different mana bombs, and the only difference between the two is one explodes outside the body, and the other does the opposite. Most of the people who died here didn't experience a mana bomb, but one thing piques my interest. Not far from my location, there is a person who died from a mana bomb.

It was rather strange as they were the only one, and come to think of it, how did it happen? If this is really the product of war, why would someone die without using it?

I made my way to wherever that body was, even if I went astray from the path that I was taking. I look around, and my eyes widen when I see the body. They are not in any piles, but rather they are all alone surrounded by the piles, and looking into it, they died while kneeling, and the only thing that I can think of is that the mana bomb explodes inside them, and it is intentional? Why? There's no benefit to that.

I walk towards the body and try to investigate things further. Mana bombs are only useful outside the body, and the only thing they'll do inside the body is fry the organs and lock in the bones. Did they find a way to make this thing useful? Interesting.

"You must have lived thinking you've done something heroic." I extend my right hand, and a mana gate forms at the palm of my hand. "Not that it matters to me, but the outcome you've created will be an important subject for the future experiment."

The mana circle opens and swallows the body, then the mana circle closes. Come to think of it, a mana bomb is a good weapon for a wide range, and if they actually found something useful about exploding it inside a living being, they should be in the middle of nowhere, or at least somewhere they will deal a lot of damage. It costs lives; hence, they can't take any second chances.

That person must be an enemy of the winners; if they are an ally, they would give them a proper burial regardless of how heroic they became, and they will never leave him here. The winners may probably think of them as fools and even leave them in the position where they died.

If that is the case, I can't walk any further if I am far from escaping this boring walking. I open a mana circle on the ground and chant a spell, and then I find myself floating and then flying towards the same direction that I was taking. I need to get out of here, for I am actually starving.

Our mana core reduces our muscle and fat whenever we fall asleep, but upon realising that I had slept for hundreds of years, I looked frail—almost skin and bones. I need to eat a full meal.

After a few moments of hovering around the dead bodies, I finally saw silhouettes of tall trees in the distance; well, it was not really far since the fog had been keeping me from seeing more than ten yards away. But it was a relief that I was heading to a place with trees rather than a town. When I finally escaped a mass grave or the barren land, the breeze of the wind hugged me, and the sound of the moving trees welcomed me.

What a splendid thing to witness.

I land on the ground and start touching trees and plants. It feels good to see living beings who can actually use raw mana. I looked at the barren land, and it seemed like the fog was a product of a spell to cover the dead bodies because, upon closer look, I could clearly see the edge of the fog and where the bushy part of this forest met. It is too polished.

I turned around and started walking to look for a path to take me to a small town or a village where I could buy a meal. I can hunt wild animals, but I don't want to eat charred meat as my first meal in hundreds of years; it will not convince me that I am eating good food. So I need to make my way to a nearby village or town.

I fix my blindfold, and for one last time, before appearing helpless, I do a mana location to see if there are moving people nearby, and to my surprise, there is one nearby, but it isn't the one I'm looking for; it looks more like a camp. I wonder what they were doing in a place so close to a barren land. Did they feel that mana disruption I just did? Are they here to check that out?

With the help of the blindfold on my eyes, I conceal my mana core to almost nonexistence. It will help me to move freely and act however I like. Aside from that, this blindfold hides the colour of my eyes, which is an obvious giveaway of my identity—my family. This is a special blindfold that is crafted specifically to conceal our mana core; it was a valuable possession back before I slept; it was in demand, but the production comes in very few numbers since there are only selected people who possess mana cores. The demand was high as it became a status symbol among the populace; hence, owning one can give you a huge respect and honour regardless of your status. Why? There are only a few people who can craft concealing ornaments that can precisely hide your identity without a miss. It can be other than a blindfold or any ornament that suits you, but these people are known to be hermits and only appear if the letter you sent is appealing and convincing or if they are simply your friend.

I wonder if this era still believes in the things that we believed back then. That will be fun to observe.

As I get close to the camp, I can see smoke, and I can hear murmurs; then I can sense they were alarmed upon hearing my footsteps. I didn't even try to hide it from afar since I wanted them to know that I was there and I was not some fishy person.

"Who's there?!" It was the voice of a man; the pitch was higher, but it reached far and wide even with this dense forest, befitting to be a scout.

"Is anyone there?" It is my first time talking to people in a while; I wonder how things will unfold from here.

"Who are you?" A man, different from the person who shouted earlier, appears and walks towards me. He is obviously bigger than me, and he looks like he is an experienced person in terms of physical activity. He has a high muscle ratio. "What are you doing here, beggar?"

"A week ago, a carriage took me here, and I've been finding my way back home. Can you help me, sir?" I asked without any hesitation.

"What? Were you a slave?" Ah, slavery still exists today, and it seems like it is yet to be condemned by these people.

"No, I live with my brother, and he has been out hunting for a while, yet I have yet to receive—"

"Does your brother earn money?" Even though they couldn't see it, I rolled my eyes. Money is really a good bait. If I agree to be a slave, they will treat me miserably, but if I belong to a family who earns money, I will be returned safe and sound in exchange for a pouch of money—not a ransom but a reward.

"Yes."

"Where do you live?"

"Is this a forest near the foggy area?" I don't know the changes to the names of this land, and if I speak a knowledge from my time and it is incorrect, I might lose this conversation. "W-We live in the south section of the forest."

"The Gregory's territory?" I am sure I haven't heard the name Gregory, but whatever works. My goal right now is to find food, and if this Gregory territory fills my needs, I might consider this a temporary place to stay until I gain my former strength and until I grasp the changes that happened to the vast continent of Valens. "That's not far from here. What can we get in exchange?"

"Money? Jewellery?"

"Will there be enough for all of us? Looking at you, you don't have decent clothes for a person who has a hunter in the family. Do you think you are important enough for them to pay us enough?" He stares at me while his right hand takes a grip on his sheathed weapon that is dangling on his hips. He is ready to kill me if I answer him without considering what he wants to hear.

"Yes, there will be. If it lacks, I can give my piece of land." That room is inside the barren land. I hope they find it worthy, though. "Just take me home."

"Sure, but you need to wait. We have different agendas here, and it'll take a few days..." He turns around and starts walking away from me. "If you can stay alive then."

They are mercenaries; they kill for money.

I follow him while acting like I can't really see. I just find it weird that he doesn't question my blindfold, like how I managed to live for a couple of days in this somehow dangerous place. I don't have any weapons visible around me, and all of the necessary quality to survive all alone in this place. They will not help me; I am just an entertainment for them.

"Have you seen the board for missing people? Have you seen her face?" When we arrive at the camp, he starts talking to his company. They all look towards us, and I can definitely see them grin. Well, that was interesting; tell me more of your plan.

"No, as far as I remember, there was a child and an old woman, but not anyone like her or around her age." The woman who is tending the fire spoke. She looks at me from head to toe, and I think she finds this interesting. Are they mercenaries with a history of killing out of their whims?

"Well, unfortunately, you may be unwanted in your household, Miss...?" The man earlier looks at me with a cunning smile.

"Call me Tir. I am sure they are looking for me..."

"Well, Tir, to be completely honest with you, it looks like you were abandoned here." He walks near me, but I didn't show any reaction. His body is big, and if he hits a normal person's head with his bare hand, they'll be flying as far as the afterlife.

"You see, we are on a mission—a well-compensated mission to kill the slaves who escaped the mines a few days ago from the Gregorys; perhaps you might be one of them?" Oh, perhaps this is where my luck runs out.

"You are not worth even a single copper in the Gregorys; how will you pay us, you prick?" He raises his right hand, and he aims to hit me, but all I can do is wonder. What is this Gregory territory? How about my food? How about my plan to rest?

Before his right hand hits me, I block him with my left hand. "Well, you just spoilt my plan."

I shift my left hand towards his right hand and grab his fingers; his wrist is too big for my delicate hand. I then took a tight grip on his fingers and broke them into pieces. He screams in front of my face, which annoys me, so with my right hand, I throw a punch directly at his nose. I can hear his skull break into pieces, and just after that, he died.

"Thankfully, you didn't see my face on that board because you don't deserve it!" I jumped towards the woman and then I punched her on her abdomen. That punch probably mushes her organs as she starts vomiting blood. I left her and looked at the tree adjacent to her. As far as I remember, someone shouted earlier, and he was hiding up here.

"Hey, you didn't do anything; you can come down." I asked him. There are three people here, and two of them show malice, while the other simply grits his teeth while he sees me.

"What's your name?"

"Luan, my name is Luan." He jumps down. He looks really young, in his mid-teen years. His life must have been miserable to be part of this circle.

"Luan, huh? Do you mind tagging along with me?"