I'd acquired my 'arrow'.
Now all I needed to do was become the 'bow' that shot him into enemy lines. Make him strong enough.
I knew that day he so easily killed someone while hiding their cause of death. A MagiKnight at that.
Skilled people had strange thoughts.
He tried to act reluctant, but the expression he made when I brought it up made me feel he was waiting...
Hoping for the day someone would request him.
That's fine. I needed a loyal dog. So long as he didn't betray me, there's nothing I was unwilling to give.
He asked for more power, and I only saw it as sharpening the tip of my arrow one naturally would.
As they SHOULD be doing.
He didn't seem to care much about my history. The healing and boons I'd gave won him to my side.
At least, that's what I wanted to believe right now.
Humans couldn't be trusted. Their idealism was merely an act to make people lower their guard.
Somehow, Pal's lack of such ideals felt nice.
He asked what he wanted and did what he was told even without justification. Unlike those of the past.
Hypocrites that broke our promise.
After I'd given him my thoughts on how to break into New Faustus, all my plans were rejected.
It made me furious initially.
I looked around me. All these years I'd grown and cultivated this 'Garden'. My treasures. My army.
My eyes looked up.
In front of me was a forest of lush greenery. Trees that had arms and legs like humans, but larger.
Almost like they were Giants.
Each tree had a face naturally formed onto it. A pair of eyes, and the resolve to fight humanity to death.
They favoured their creator and thirsted for blood.
Yes, that's how it should've been from the beginning.
I despise the rest of the clan for their pacifism. For believing Treants were simply useful as guardians.
This won't be the same.
I'd tweaked their chemistry with everything I could find to make them resistant to magic and power.
These dull, grey trees now had the power to rival humanity. In a frontal fight, they should not lose.
And they will be able to protect my comrades.
Those girls… It's been so long that I'd forgotten the faces of my kin, but I knew they were likely crippled.
Weak to the point of being slaves for humanity.
Playthings for them to use.
However, that won't be the case any further. I'll take out the parts of you I despise using metamorphosis.
One day in the future, I shall be the only 'Elf' left.
"You will never win." Suddenly, the words of that damn human dampened my pride towards this.
The sight no longer made my heart proud.
"Why?" I'd asked him back then about this.
"Because one person is enough to offset an entire army. There is a guy with Erysichthon as his Imaginary Engine." I had no idea what he meant about that. Until he brought up why it was scary.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Erysichthon means 'Earth Tearer'. I don't know exactly what it does but I remember the ability being best used against trees." When I remembered that, I found my motivation draining from me quickly.
My army… The lovely Treants I'd raised…
They're useless?
The fact a weapon like that was laying around meant that anyone could use it. Imaginary Engines weren't individualistic. Meaning that anyone who held that particular Imaginary Engine could use that power.
If someone from the Five Families used it, then…
I didn't even want to think of the meaningless devastation that'd unfold. It made my heart sour.
"Mistress, when will we war?" Suddenly, one of their voices rang in my head. I looked at a certain patriot.
"Mistress, I want to fight!"
"Mistress, let us show them!"
"We can win this, Mistress. We can!"
"Give us the order, Mistress!"
I suddenly found myself clamming up in the face of their enthusiasm. What was I supposed to say now?
Sorry, but I just heard there's a weapon that can easily cut you down? And that you'll all die in vain?
Not happening.
"Ahem… Well, I'm thinking up the perfect strategy for us. Trust me." I telepathically spoke to them.
"""We believe in you, Mistress!"""
They all seemed happily awaiting what I'd promised them through the years. Ever since they were born.
My children… I don't want you all to die in vain.
I made your trunks and bodies extra sturdy so NONE of you died. Why else would I raise you all?
Why else would I have waited for so long?
I wasn't sure how he got this piece of information. It didn't seem he was lying to me. He was being honest.
So… what were we supposed to do now?
Maybe Pal's tricky and wicked mind could come up with something. I'm putting my faith on his evilness.
There's no way he wouldn't be able to find a lowly and contemptible solution. A despicably evil plot.
I'm sure a natural born killer like him could do it!
…..
….
…
..
.
"Achoo!" Who was thinking about me? Talia? Was she acting like I was all the evil in the world again?
Honestly, I didn't know WHAT she was thinking.
After I told her about Erysichthon, she started to rely on me about coming up with a plan of sorts.
Completely setting aside her animosity.
I wasn't much of a social person compared to George, but why did I feel like a demon of sorts?
Someone she 'contracted' under the threat of death.
Well, that didn't matter then.
The reason I came out after filling up my body with Artes Lines… was to figure out how to use them.
Apparently, being the one to create the Magic System of this world didn't mean I knew how to use it. I mean, what's written on paper didn't translate to reality well. Especially when it came to my Qi.
Or Mana, I kinda used them interchangeably.
After all, it WAS both 'Magical' and 'Internal'.
Guess what you called it had more to do with your background and abilities. Not the powers itself.
I glanced at my stats.
[Name: Pal Weldone
Job: UnLife Rioter (Jobless)
Personal Skills: Word Enchanter (Uni)
Intrinsic Skills: Riot Hysteria (Evil), Abyss Core (Dark/Death), Skill Acquisition (Special), Power Sharpening (Fire), Artes Lines (Quad)
Power: D(Average)
Agility: B (Rare)
Speed: D(Average)
Defence: E (Common)
Magic: E (Dark/Evil/Death/Fire)]
'Miasma Core' had evolved into 'Abyss Core', and the once deadly energy now felt sticky somehow.
I wasn't sure how to even explain it.
This was my first time handling or dealing with such energy. My knowledge was useless in front of this.
Maybe this was the bad part of a flexible system…
I needed someone familiar with the way people perceived 'Energies' in this world. Not in my own.
Because most if not all those guys were bogus.
There were many times I'd brushed things off with the character 'understanding', 'gaining insight', etc.
Now I needed that myself.
And the only teacher I could get on hand just so happened to be an important mentor to someone.
The protagonist's temporary mentor.
Temporary only because the old man died because the main character's enemies got ahold of him.
To find him quickly, I searched around every bar.
Looking for the clear personality and appearance traits that even I wasn't able to forget easily.
He was just that stereotypical.
I triangulated his position using the distance from Harold Driftwood's residence as an anchor point.
Circling around it slowly.
It was only after a while did I arrive at a certain bar.
Right there, I saw an old man with a large figure. His skin was chapped. His entire appearance a mess.
I could tell from the rugged and scarred hand that he had lots of experience. From his hair that he was aged. From his clothes that he was barely making any income but still spending it on booze.
Because alcohol was this man's main obsession.
The obsession so great that it could probably be my way of getting him to teach me. I was really happy.
This would definitely go well.
The man didn't turn when I approached, and didn't say anything when I sat next to him at the counter.
It was hard to believe that this was the only character in our story we set to be completely useless. With no redeeming traits whatsoever. He was so weak that common thugs could kill him.
But still, he was an important mentor figure in the story. One I'd steal since his lesson wouldn't matter.
Harold only managed to learn a few tricks before George killed this guy off to develop Harold more.
He was criticised a lot because of that.
The keyboard warriors back when we powered it as a Webnovel kept pointing how cliché the mentor was.
Regardless, now had become the moment of truth.
I kept watch over him and waited. Watching him drink glass after glass until his stomach churned.
It made me wonder what backstory George had set for him. Why be so deeply addicted to alcohol?
What was his purpose?
What did he want to achieve in life?
I watched as he savoured the last glass and was ready to take a bottle to drink on his way out.
Likely ready to buy another when he had enough.
It was at that moment I pushed a glass towards him.
"You want a drink?" The old man looked at me for a moment, then at the drink I'd just served him.
A smile appearing on his drunken red face.
He hiccuped, then spoke: "Sure!"
Sitting down for another swig. Since I got his ear, I started talking to him to get straight to the point.
"I need your help." (Pal)
"Anything, stranger. Just ask and I'll do." (???)
"The name is Pal, I need someone to teach me basic fighting techniques." I poured him another glass.
Showing him respect as a senior above me.
"Pal, huh? Well, my name is Simon. I dun' have anythin' big to teach ya." He wasn't being modest.
From what I remember, Simon's influence only served to stabilise Harold's strength in the middle parts of the story through Martial Arts. In terms of strength, he wasn't really that strong or weak.
Pretty average strength overall.
Regardless, I didn't need any big power here.
"Don't be like that. I don't need anything big. Just the basics are enough." I slipped him another glass.
Good thing Talia was the one funding this trip.
"Can't ya go to the Phoenix Association? Or even the Quest Society? There's so many options." (Simon)
"I have my circumstances." (Pal)
"Really now…?" He glanced from the corner of his eye, then gestured for me to let him feel my pulse.
I confidently put my wrist in his hand.
Even without any Artes Lines, he was able to perceive the magical energies within my body.
Seeing how it circulated.
"I see." After that, he nodded his head powerfully.
"So can you teach me?" I asked with expectations.
"How much?" Simon rubbed his thumb greedily.
I leaned over to whisper: "Infinite Booze."
Two words that immediately got us shaking hands. A look of salvation on his face when looking at me.
"…You better not be lying." (Simon)
"Cross my heart I'm not." (Pal)
"I'm not young enough to fall for that." (Simon)
"And I'm not old enough to be foxy." (Pal)
"You knew about me?" (Simon)
"…No." (Pal)
"And you say you aren't a sly fox." Simon sighed.
But it didn't look like he was going to say anything to dissuade me from hiring him. His lips were drooling.
I wasn't lying about the infinite alcohol though.
From what Talia said, alcohol was one of the food stuff humanity asked for within the supplies.
She could totally supply him endless alcohol.
I was ready to head back and check on that bunny girl that had gone unconscious since that incident.
Since her clothes were ripped, I was sure she'd request either me or Talia to buy her clothes.
The ones she was wearing were torn, after all.
And since Talia wasn't leaving, I was expecting to be the only one who'd go buy her some girl clothes.
As a deviant smile formed on my face, I was unaware that someone familiar was watching me from afar.
"No… That can't be true." He stared at my smiling face and called someone while I was still unaware.
I'd unknowingly dug my grave.
If I could travel back in time, I'd have stopped myself from showing myself in front of that dying mentor.
Because his existence had brought endless trouble!