Chapter 30 #2
I suppose this confirms it. Yet it indicates another thing: this person is either a low-level individual or one without powers at all.
Otherwise I doubt that I, with my lack of abilities, would have been able to spot him.
The mere fact that I noticed his presence means he’s not someone overly powerful.
That doesn’t mean he’s not stronger than me.
Frankly, in my current condition, I’m only slightly better than a mortal male.
Even if he were at level one or two, that would still be far above me.
As those thoughts form in my head, I decide to keep going and monitor the situation; perhaps even play a trick or two on him.
It’s becoming darker out. I estimate there to be two more hours of light. With this path being more dangerous than the regular one, I will need to stop for the night. That means I have two hours to deal with my follower.
I keep walking, though my attention is entirely on the figure behind me. But the more I focus on him, the more I start questioning my initial assessment. With the trees becoming sparser, it’s getting harder for him to get lost behind the trunks.
Soon, I can make out his silhouette quite well and… It’s rather small. I might be regarding him only from a distance, but it seems to me he’s rather slim and short; a good two or three heads shorter than me, if not more.
The trees become scattered and far between. The foliage is also thinning. I can now see him clearly. He’s around one hundred steps behind me. I don’t think he knows that I noticed him yet, which makes him either the worst stalker in the world, or not a stalker at all.
That theory solidifies when he trips on the uneven stones and falls to his knees. A small, barely audible agh reaches my ears.
My lips curl up in amusement just as the tension in my shoulders subsides. I doubt some experienced agent would not only be giving himself away so easily but would also be this clumsy.
I’m forced to come up with a new theory.
Since I did not notice him before the tavern, he could have simply been going in the same direction as me.
Perhaps he’s another adventurer bound for Horan Forest in search of mythical beasts and he thought he might have a better chance of getting there by following me.
As I walk, I continue to observe him. His movements are getting sluggish—he’s tired. An immortal would not be tired. But he doesn’t stop; he keeps up with me even though he’s clearly close to his limit.
That makes me feel sad for him. Perhaps he is someone in a similar situation as me: trying his luck to change his fate. For that reason, I’m not going to do anything to him; nor am I going to approach him unless he does it first.
Now that I’m less stressed about my stalker situation I can focus on finding a place to stay the night. According to my map, the area I spotted before is close by. There’s even a small spring nearby so I can wash up.
When I reach the spot, I pull out some items from the proto-realm and arrange my sleeping area. It takes me half an hour to figure out how to set up my tent, after which I arrange my sleeping bag and the blankets. Done, I breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s my first foray into nature, but so far it’s not so bad.
Then I remember it’s been hours since I last ate. My stamina levels are running low so I should get some nourishment before I go to sleep.
I get some dried branches from my surroundings and dump them a few steps from the tent before I set them on fire. Sparks crackle as the fire becomes more alive by the second. From my proto-realm, I remove some meat and bread.
As I tend to the food, a loud noise erupts in the stillness of the night. I frown. I am hungry, but I am not that famished. A subsequent sound reaches my ears, and I realize it must be my little follower.
I open my mouth to invite him to eat with me, but then I close it. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be known otherwise he would have introduced himself far earlier.
I start eating, but the noises continue.
Closing my eyes, I sigh. Why is it that I feel guilty for eating my own food?
“I should find some more wood for the fire,” I mutter, loud enough for my little follower to hear.
Slowly, I walk away from the tent and find a bigger tree trunk to hide.
Then I wait. A few seconds later, a small figure descends upon my campsite. The same hat, coat and glasses from before confirm the identity. My little follower helps himself to some of the foods I left before going back to the shadows.
I shake my head. Somehow this fellow amuses me. At least his coat seems thick enough so he might not freeze to death tonight.
Now that I’ve done my charity for the day, I return to my fire to eat. I finish the remaining bread and meat and get inside the tent.
As I get comfortable, I close my eyes and try to sleep. Normally, being this tired would knock me out instantly. But the smell and feel of sweat under my clothes makes me feel rather disgusting.
I twist and turn, but I realize I won’t get proper rest unless I do something about it.
Grabbing my map again, I look at the marked springs nearby. It doesn’t mention whether it’s just a pond or hot spring. If it’s the former, I suppose I can get some water, heat it over the fire and wipe myself with a towel. If it’s the second… that would be heaven.
Armed with a change of clothes and a container for water should I need it, I go to the springs.
The closer I get, the foggier the air becomes. My lips tip up. Perhaps luck will shine on me and it is hot water.
The mist clouds my vision as I step towards its source. Warm steam floats in the air. My coat is already on the ground. My sweaters join it within seconds. My hands quickly work off my pants and I shrug them off. Entirely naked, I dive right into the hot pool of water.
“Agh!” A voice shouts. A female voice.
I quickly come up for air, shaking the water out of my hair and rubbing my eyes.
The steam is still semi-obstructing my view. But I can see enough to make out the outline of a female. A naked female.
Water drips from her wet hair, falling onto her bare shoulders and chest. With one hand, she’s hiding her breasts. With the other, she’s swinging a knife toward me.
The murderous weapon barely registers as I move closer to her. The sharp tip makes contact with my shoulder, but not even that pain can shake me off course. How could it when I feel like I’m staring at a dream?
Perhaps I’m sleeping right now. Yes, this isn’t real life. This is just another one in my long string of dreams.
“Nyk?” Her eyes widen in shock as she quickly pulls the knife back. A few drops of blood roll down my chest, the pain finally registering in my brain.
Not a dream? I frown. But… That would mean she’s here. That she followed me, that she…
“Moe?” I whisper.