Balendon lit the fire using mana again. Converting world force into mana provided him with an almost unlimited supply, as the amount of mana produced from the conversion was significantly less than the vast amount of world force he could constantly absorb. He did not want to be hasty in relying on his new power. After a moment of looking around, he saw the puddle of blood and his shattered belongings somewhere near the cave wall. He took a piece of bloodied fabric from his loot, sat cross-legged on the ground, warming his surroundings with a flame in one hand, and analyzed how it was made. It felt as if he was about to comprehend something, yet it was too complicated. He could feel particles in his hand-their order, their amount, and their type- but converting world essence into such things in such order required immense practice and knowledge. It wasn't going to work like that.
He collected whatever was left of his armor for insulation. He could understand his body easier and faster than foreign objects. How could he make his body more resistant to cold? The answer was fat and hair! By converting world essence into body fat and hair, he made himself look like a yeti in a day. Now, he was ready to pass through that cursed blizzard- and he did.
On his way back, he saw the unpleasant sight of used potion flasks from his pursuers, already crystallized due to the cold. He felt a surge of excitement and bloodthirst. While he felt far better than his old self, this wasn't the time to pursue revenge. He wasn't confident yet without more adjustments and better gear. Although he didn't know how many days it had been, he thought it would be worth checking the campsite for scavenging. After passing through the blizzard, he reverted his body back to its top shape and started running. He was getting better and faster at adjusting his body. He felt faster, lighter, and stronger. His bare feet didn't hurt every time they stomped on the ground, and he reached the campsite in a day.
Amazed at his own speed, he started looking for useful items- like weapons, armor, and most importantly, money. He intended to rejoin civilization, to learn and explore the world and its possibilities. He felt no remorse in looting the bloodied equipment of the dead, which had already started to rot- they weren't going to need it. While some of the bodies were missing, there were still quite a number of corpses scattered around the site. He thought it was either because the site was far from predators, or because there was an alpha predator in the area that only feasted when hungry, keeping other predators away. As he equipped the armor and weapons, he started feeling uneasy and nauseous. It was as if the energy used to create the equipment was contradicting him. Nevertheless, he decided to use them despite that bearable disgust.
He needed the equipment immediately against the scaly black beast with wings that had come to check which insolent being was lurking around its food stock. It was the second possibility! "What the hell is that?" Balendon thought. Having thick, scaly skin on top of being able to fly with wings and camouflage? It looked like a gargoyle, but the power it emanated was comparable to something more, something unidentified and terrible. After a moment of besieging its prey with its eyes and growling, the monster appeared behind Balendon. It moved in the blink of an eye, yet the tremor it caused as it landed on the same level soil with Balendon was enough to shift the location of the entire caravan debris.
Balendon stood composed. Even though the monster could move as if it were using skills, he could follow its speed and match it with his own. This must be his newly created body, he thought, and a fierce battle broke out between the two beasts. At first, Balendon had a hard time catching up with the beast's speed. The fight went on, with the monster terraforming their surroundings while Balendon barely dodged it. After a few moments, Balendon began landing hits instead of only dodging. The monster was strong and durable. Its speed, compared to its size, was unbelievable. Balendon landed a few hits on its head. Each time he struck, the sound was so loud that if someone a kilometer away had heard it, they would think two giant clay soldiers were clashing.
Balendon picked up a giant sledgehammer from the ground and struck the beast's leg. It sounded like someone hitting a large chunk of metal ore with a hammer. Then he picked up a sword to pierce through the beast, but he realized there was no way to use a sword to pierce its scales. After failing to penetrate the beast's armor, he swapped to a mace he found on the ground. The mace had both sharpness and mass to deal damage. "If it's not going to cut, I'll crush it to death!" he thought. The sound changed from a sword striking metal to a sledgehammer crushing a living rock. Every time Balendon hit the beast, it would scream in pain and fight back more ferociously.
Balendon tried to aim for weak spots like the eyes or armpits. In the process of slaying the beast, he lost pieces of his flesh and maybe a finger or two. The beast was strong and fast but not smart. It was more primitive than Balendon. He eventually emerged victorious after crushing its head tens of times, like a vicious beast himself. As his wounds started healing immediately, he accustomed himself to recreating his body parts with world force, just as the elf had done. He didn't have time to relish the moment of victory because he heard two familiar voices.
"What the damn?! Is it not our mouse who ran away? Look, he slew the beast so we can loot the caravan now!"
Apparently, they had been waiting for a chance to kill the monster and were lying in wait. Common sense would dictate that if a strong monster one fears is slain by another, stronger monster, one should not provoke it. Yet these two imbeciles, devoid of common sense, rushed down the hill where they were hiding, charging at Balendon, only to see his arrogant smile as the last sight of their lives. They didn't seem to have recovered from the days of chasing him. Their injuries indicated they had tried their luck against the beast before.
Balendon could now see and sense their strength. The same disgusting feeling he had from his equipment could also be felt from these men.
He could not compare their power to anyone else now, but he realized that, in the future, he might be able to measure someone's strength by the intensity of their lifeforce. The unluckiest of the two used a skill to leap at Balendon. It was slow-far slower than what Balendon had seen before. He remembered watching a sword master using skills against a Celeston scout party, which, even though it predated lumenan cultivation, was faster than this. These two were indeed on the verge of death.
When the charging one had his head crushed into half its size and torn from his neck, the other bandit realized he was in trouble. While still in shock, Balendon laughed-a hysterical, wicked laugh of satisfaction.
He tasted blood and immediately craved more. The rush was intoxicating. He wanted to kill everyone and anyone as he walked toward the second bandit, who was frozen in fear. Balendon grabbed the man by the neck. His victim started begging and crying for mercy, but Balendon could not hear him. Something was intensifying his joy. He was drunk on the moment and wanted it to last forever.
Balendon set the man's neck ablaze with the world force, along with his own hand. Extinguishing the flame was not easy, and he felt the pain himself, but as his second prey burned in agony for minutes, slowly and painfully, Balendon continued to smile. Tears streamed down his face-tears of pain and joy at the same time. He tried to extinguish the flames engulfing his own hand, but it was too bothersome again. Without hesitation, he cut his arm off.
After an immeasurable, brief burst of pain, he came back to his senses. Along with regeneration and recreation, his arm returned in mere minutes. He began to notice how, every time he felt pain, his body sent some sort of communication to his brain. These signals entered through certain pathways. He named them pain receptors since they seemed to "receive pain."
With the joy of getting revenge and the sense of accomplishment from naming something previously unknown to science, Balendon felt proud. He resolved to work on these pain receptors later to improve his combat efficiency.
He continued looting the rest of the site.
A spacious backpack designed for caravans, some good sets of armor, construction kits, and crafting tools were among the most useful items he found in this magical, spacious backpack. The best part was that the backpack was smaller than his back. He was impressed by how much technology had advanced to create spacious backpacks that could carry enough materials to build a village without burdening the carrier.
Although he couldn't find much money- since it was a pioneer caravan-the items he looted were likely worth enough to make him rich, or so he hoped. He was ready to leave the site, while his prey begged to be killed as he burned to his last bits. Lumenan cultivators were resilient indeed! Balendon ignored him and started walking south, toward new journeys and a new life.
On the road, he slew some wild beasts, which gave him plenty of chances to practice with his new body and power. He had nothing to lose anymore-no purpose, no feelings. He could shape his body into whatever form he needed: a fast runner, a swift swimmer with duck-like legs, or even one that could breathe underwater in mere hours.
However, the biggest downside was his ignorance. Once, he accidentally had to cut off his arm because of a wrong mutation. Of course, he regrew his arm, but such a mistake could have been fatal if the mutation had spread. He eventually stopped playing with his body and focused on a more disturbing problem:
the disgust he felt from his equipment.
He realized he could feel things even when he didn't focus on them. He could understand what air was made of, how to set particles in order to create air -just by breathing. Similarly, the armor he wore was made of something that felt wrong. It was the life essence used to craft the armor that disgusted him.
In one attempt, he tried to purify the life essence and replace it with world essence, but it was like brewing tea with lava instead of water. This specific metal needed life essence to hold itself together and could not endure world essence.
With three months of travel ahead to reach Galenar, he had no rush. He took his time trying to understand how to apply world force to enchant equipment, yet most materials weren't durable enough. He theorized that mana might be more compatible with world essence, and so he began dissecting powerful monsters for materials.
Eventually, he succeeded in creating a leather armor primitively enhanced with a small amount of world essence from some kind of boar he had never seen before and a bone sword crafted from the bones of the gargoyle-like beast he had slain at the site. He truly looked like some savage hermit.
He tested the sword on one of the plate armors he had looted. The result was neither impressive nor disappointing-it was serviceable. For now, he had to rely on his instincts and combat prowess to win fights, which was still far better than being powerless like a child taking a beating from adults.
As he got closer to Galenar, he spotted some small settlements-advanced outposts for people to venture further and safer. For Balendon, these outposts represented more caravans to gather information about stately affairs and to sell his loot bit by bit to avoid suspicion.
During his journey, he adjusted to civilization again. He learned how to shape world essence into water after months of observing and studying water.
Finally, he arrived and stood before the castle walls of Galenar-his hometown, his shameful past, and yet, the pride of civilization. Galenar had become the second-largest bulwark against the monstrosities of the north and the hub of exploration for the western Elisysa Empire after Castellum Munientibus, the neutral zone shared by both the Eastern Dukedom and the Western Empire.
Despite their mutual hatred, both sides had refrained from firing a single arrow at each other, as their castles stood facing one another across the emerald shores of Castellum Munientibus.
"It sure got busier," Balendon thought as he entered through a security checkpoint at the gate by reciting the Elisyson vow.
The words carried magical properties and could not be spoken without genuine loyalty to the Elisysons.
"By the magic I am born, by the glory of Elisysons I live, for the glory of Elisysons I die, I shall never forget Aelin, for she is the beacon of hope."
He found the vow ironic, given his inglorious life. Regardless of his past, he was strong now. A brief thought of carrying civilization to greater heights crossed his mind-it would also benefit him if civilization improved.
He went straight to the marketplace to sell off what remained in his backpack, along with the backpack itself. He was surprised at how cheap Lumenan gear was during his journeys, but the daily necessities and building materials the caravan carried fetched a decent price. In total, he earned around 3,000 gold coins- enough to live luxuriously for 200 years without working. Of course, this was by the standards of a peasant like Balendon, who did not know the true meaning of luxury.
A peasant needed 2 silver coins daily to live adequately in the western continent. In the northern continent, the cost rose to 3 silver coins, and in the eastern continent, where food supplies were scarcer than materials, the cost was 4 silver coins daily. A hundred copper coins equaled one silver coin, and a hundred silver coins equaled one gold coin.
As he wandered the streets of Galenar, he noticed differences from the past. The most striking change was the presence of street urchins. Back in his time, Galenar's fiefdom had a policy of grooming orphans into useful governmental tools. The system made them pay their debts and contribute more to the community. Now, however, beggars of all ages and genders roamed the streets.
This could lead to crime, Balendon thought. But where there was crime, there was opportunity- opportunity he could exploit. Although he had no experience with such things before, given his past circumstances, he realized he might need to adapt.
He spent days reacclimating to civilization by staying in an inn, gathering intel, buying books on herbs and magic circles to study, and socializing with adventurers. These adventurers often boasted of their discoveries, even after expeditions lasting only a few hours.
He was most curious about the "Lumenans"- a group that, according to rumors, could not leave Lumenia because they had sealed themselves alongside a monster capable of destroying the world. These beings existed only in ethereal form. Balendon wondered if he could visit their land one day to study the scientific wealth of this advanced civilization.
During his days of rest, he acquainted himself with all sorts of thieves and local spies to catch up on the affairs of Galenar, his home. He learned what had happened in his absence, which lords had come to power, and rumors about trade. He even began collaborating with a newly developing underground organization called the "Children of Tuank."
Balendon gave them simple tasks, such as retrieving documents from the palace or foraging resources outside the walls, as he worked to gain their trust.