When the sun eventually peeks over the horizon I have gone through over a dozen energy restoration potions in addition to a sleep nullification one. Despite this, the lingering mental tiredness is rather excessive. It reminds me of what I used to feel after a long night of studying when I was in college, the feeling that my brain was filled up and could not continue any further. But, at least my body is no longer tired.
"It is probably about time for you to go meet up with your swordsmanship class," he says. "Here, take this," he continues giving me a potion. "It's a health potion. Use it only if your [own] death is imminent. It is very expensive, and I also don't want to deal with jealous students. Understood?"
"Yes sir," I answer.
"Well, then, be off. And don't die. I've waited many years for a suitable apprentice, and I don't want to have to find another one."
"Yes, sir," I repeat, heading out the door.
The cool morning air greets me as I set off into the dark environment. Under the moon, I make my way over to Commander Reinhart's (my swordsmanship instructor's) field.
[I really hope I don't die. This is a great opportunity to increase my level, and so theoretically my power, and so hopefully my longevity; however, if I suffer a horrible death at the claws and teeth of some beast while my instructor looks on, well, it will all be for nothing. Sir Lector said that I shouldn't be at too much of a risk due to my magical ability, and I do have this healing potion, but still.
Furthermore, he didn't take into account that I'm going to be ensuring that Jorgenson doesn't die. And what if he's on the brink of death and my potion can heal him? Despite being commanded not to use it on anyone else, and despite maybe needing it for myself, will I really be able to let him die when I could easily save him? And what about when my comrades inevitably die? Will I really be able to bear that?]
My ruminations are cut short by the realization that I forgot to mention my inability to read last night to Sir Lector. [Oh well. It's not like he had time to teach me last night, what with the intensity of my training.]
I reach the field to find it already occupied by members of my own swordsmanship group, though Reinhart himself has not yet arrived.
When Jorgenson shows up, he quickly glances around before locking eyes with me and coming over. "Could I trouble you to stick with me while out hunting today?" he asks.
"I was planning on it," I reply.
Seemingly following our example, numerous alliances form around us. I notice, however, that the most skilled of the swordsmen, myself excluded, only align themselves with each other or even with no one at all. Whether it is because they don't want to be weighed down by the weak or because they are nobles and don't desire to interact with commoners, I am not sure. When any weakling asks to join their group, essentially asking for protection while recognizing their own weakness, they are turned down.
I am not immune from requests to join my 'party,' of course. Many people are aware that I am likely the best swordsman in our class, so I get a fair share of requests to join me. In fact, even one noble stoops so low as to ask to join my, a commoner's, party. I turn down all of their requests, obviously. I desire to live, and for that goal I must grow in power. This is a great opportunity to do that, how foolish would I have to be to waste it on protecting my weak classmates? The same could be said about protecting Jorgenson, but, well, I have a special interest vested in him. And besides, he's just too good of a guy.
"Are you sure that you want to turn down their requests? You know that many of these will die if they are unlucky enough to encounter a strong monster, right" he then asks me.
I nod. "Of course. That is hardly any of my concern. My concern is in keeping myself and my friend, you, alive while also growing in power. Will I feel guilty if they die? Perhaps. However, I do not have the ability to protect every person on this planet, or even in this group. I am hardly obligated to do such, and I cannot allow others to impede my goals."
He does not give any verbal response to this, though he does give me a look of obvious disapproval, with perhaps even some disappointment mixed in. [Oh well. It is impossible to act to the standards of one based in justice. I have my own goals, you know, and these cannot be obtained if I devote myself to protecting others. I contemplated such on my walk over, and I came to the obvious conclusion that if others die I am not to blame. Just because I am capable of saving someone, it does not mean that I am obligated to. As was once put, 'weakness is a sin;' It forces others to devote themselves to caring for you, and so in not caring for the weak as I perhaps could, I am simply resisting the effects of their sin. How then, could I feel guilty in not caring for every person that comes to me in a poorly disguised request for protection?
In asking for protection, they are, in fact, working directly against my own goals. They steal from me an opportunity to grow, which is an opportunity to increase the time between myself and my inevitable death, and with it my dread, my fear, and my bane: the darkness it brings. In turning them down, I am fighting against those who are thieves, stealing my own strength and lifespan from me!
In fact, am I really right to protect Jorgenson? He cannot be my friend; a true friend would never so callously and selfishly put himself first; he would not attack me with his weakness and so steal from me as established. Am I being played as a fool? I thought myself taking advantage of Jorgenson; has it actually been him taking advantage of me this whole time? And just then, he tried to get me to take on more of the weaknesses of others! He must be working against me! I best be watchful for more of his sneaky and truly devious attacks! I almost fell for his tricks, I best be careful around him in the future!]
Apparently sensing the suspicion that I am eyeing him with, Jorgenson turns to me. "Yes?"
"Oh nothing, my friend. I was merely contemplating some moral questions; it does not concern you."
"Oh, alright then." He turns back away, watching as Commander Reinhart approaches.
[Heh. He may be on to me; I must be careful to make sure that he does not realize that I have caught him in his scheming against me!]
While my train of thought is sneakily directed towards increasingly paranoid and pessimistic conclusions to simple occurrences, Commander Reinhart arrives.
"Well, I hope that you have all been practicing hard. Each of the swordsman groups has been given a different area to clear out. They wanted to give us a group of worthless beasts near the city wall and leave the more powerful monsters for more experienced groups. I, of course, requested to be given the most powerful group of beasts they had to deal with, a large group of somewhat high level scorpion monsters."
To this the class erupts into an uproar, with "He's trying to get us killed!" as the most common cry.
"Now, now. It would hardly be suitable for field training if it was too easy, now would it? And I'm sure with the groups that you've formed, you will be fine… actually, scratch that, most of you will die rather quickly unless you've sharply increased in ability since I last saw you." He sounds oddly gleeful while saying this, though perhaps it is only my imagination. "Well, if you can survive this you will surely gain many insights into the art of swordcraft. Besides, my master threw me into a group of level 35 sand wolves when I began training under him, and I survived. Honestly, if you can survive this, you can rest assured that by the time of deployment you will be well prepared. I will hear no further complaints related to this; if anyone disobeys I shall consider it insubordination and punish it with a quick execution. Now, let us be off. We will be leaving through the West gate; follow along."
I had thought that the class had learned how dangerous this guy is when he murdered that soldier; apparently, I was wrong, as only about half the class follows behind him. Apparently the scorpions that he mentioned are pretty scary opponents, as literally half the class would risk his deadly wrath rather than them.
Sensing that much of his class is not following him, he glances back. I expect him to yell at them, or execute one as an example or something; so it comes as a surprise when he gives a cruel smile and says "Leave them."
This apparent acceptance of their choice leads to even more of the class breaking off to stay behind. He merely snorts and continues on, only a fifth of the class, mostly just nobles and Jorgenson (alongside myself, of course), still behind him. [Man, these scorpions must be a literal death sentence. It's rather obvious that those who stayed behind will meet a terrible fate, so for them to take that over this hunting exercise… and it's not like they were wholly unwilling to do so until he mentioned what we were facing… forget protecting Jorgenson or growing stronger, perhaps I would be smart to worry about only staying alive!
Well, there is not much point in worrying about it. I do have this healing potion, alongside my elemental manipulation abilities, so I should be fine… hopefully. Though if Reinhart only took this assignment this morning, it's possible that Sir Lector didn't realize how dangerous of a position I would be put into today when he said that I would probably be fine.
No, no, no! No need for this pessimism! I will certainly be fine, so long as I don't underestimate my opponents! If I die, then even Reinhart would surely struggle with this. After all, I can use elemental manipulation magic, while Reinhart has thus far displayed no capability in any field other than swordsmanship. Yes, I will be fine.]
Deciding that I should gather as much information on our enemy as possible, I turn to Jorgenson. "I must admit that it's been a while since I last heard of scorpion monsters. Could you fill me in on the details?"
"Well, I also confess to not knowing many of the specifics, other than the fact that they are often touted as one of the great beasts of this desert, alongside the snakes, hawks, and centipedes. They are considered to be a great threat, and are widely feared by small desert settlements. As to their specifics, I only know them to have a strong exoskeleton, pincers, and a large stinger. Unfortunately, I don't know much more than that."
Overhearing our discussion, one of the few commoners besides us to still be in the group chips in: "That only covers the basics. Their exoskeleton is as hard as steel and is known to turn away swords, arrows, and maces alike. Their pincers can sever a fully-armored man in half and their stinger can impale two men at once, delivering wounds that are so severe that the deadly venom they inject is almost unnecessary. Add to that that we are fighting a beast group, and their greatest weakness of being solitary predators is greatly negated."
"That does sound imposing," I reply, turning from my useless Jorgenson to him. "How are they normally defeated?"
"Spellcasters. With the exception of elder scorpion beasts, they can usually be fried to a crisp by a strong lightning spell. Otherwise, freezing and burning them within their shells is always an option as well. Also, imbuing a melee attack with an element has been known to be quite effective."
I thank him for his information before sighing in relief to myself. [After his initial description, I felt that I was a goner. However, I should be able to capitalize on those weaknesses, as a mage. Actually, that probably explains why most of the people who came along were nobles; among nobility mages are far more common, and in this upcoming fight being a mage will be one's greatest asset.
Though, perhaps, it has more to do with honor than anything else. I imagine that the nobles would prefer even death to the dishonor of staying behind out of cowardice. For example, look to that foolish one who accepted Sir Lector's duel. No matter how confident he was in his own abilities, there is no way that he could have reasonably expected to win that match; even so, he accepted the challenge anyways, perhaps hoping that his life would be spared. Or maybe he really was so foolish as to believe himself a superior mage, in which case he was an irredeemable idiot.]