Chương 58: Surface (4)

"... what?"

"I want you to make it attack me!" Cynthia repeated firmly, glaring at him. Succumbing to her angry little gaze, Rowan shrugged and changed the way the butterfly moved. Now, it no longer moved like a normal bug might have. Instead, it moved in straight lines, far faster than before, but still just slow enough for Cynthia to escape. Even if it hit her, the construct wasn't made of condensed mana like his usual ones were.

While it required his active focus to hold it together with [Mana Manipulation] rather than the butterfly being stable enough to keep itself intact, it also meant that even if it hit her, it wouldn't do anything. While it had looked like she was enjoying it before, now it seemed like she was having the time of her life. Shaking his head, Rowan shot a look at Henry, who just shrugged, still watching his adopted daughter play with a smile on his lips.

As she continued playing while they walked, Henry moved over to him, still smiling as she watched Cynthia.

"Thank you," He said.

"Thank you for everything. For this, too." He gestured at Cici, still playing with the construct, before sighing and staring up at the sky.

"It's hard to parent in the Tutorial, you know? Having a girl like Cici certainly makes it easier, since she's probably better suited to surviving here than I am, but it does make it hard to play with her.

"She's just not interested in things that kids her age are normally interested in. And she really likes violence, for some reason. It's a little concerning, no? But I suppose it's also comforting to know that if something were to happen to me, she wouldn't be helpless." He took a deep breath, watching as Cynthia dodged away from the charging butterfly and swung her hand at the incorporeal bug, breaking it apart and forcing Rowan to reform it.

"I know we only just met, and that this probably isn't anything special for someone with your power, but this means a lot to me. It's almost impossible to find something that she actually enjoys doing." Rowan watched Cynthia playing for a few more seconds before smiling back at Henry.

"It's alright. I don't know how long I'll be with you guys, but I'll try to play with her as much as possible. Plus, it helps me practice my [Mana Manipulation]." The man's eyes lit up at the mention of [Mana Manipulation].

"Emma has that skill, too!" Then, he froze.

"Shit, I probably shouldn't have told you that without her permission, huh?. I just got too excited."

"Well, you'll just have to talk to her about it later." Rowan shrugged.

"But what's so exciting about that? Wait, how did she even get the skill in the first place? She doesn't have a class, does she?" Henry still looked a bit ashamed for divulging Emma's skills without her permission, but he responded anyway.

"You don't know? Well, actually, that makes sense, since you've been stuck in the cave this entire time. People can gain skills without gaining them through a class, just by…I don't know. They just do.

"It's exciting because, well, to be honest, I was just happy that someone finally had something in common with either of the twins, you know? I've tried to connect to them, but they don't talk, and they're probably more dissimilar to me than anyone else I've ever met."

"That makes sense." Henry was right; he and the twins really were different.

"If it's okay for you to tell me, why don't they talk?" Henry sighed.

"I'm not sure. They have some kind of birth or genetic defect, and when the System healed everyone coming into the Tutorial, it didn't heal that. Beyond that, though, I don't know anything." Before he could ask anything else, Henry pointed into the distance.

"That's our camp. It's not in the best condition, but it was more dangerous here when we set it up, you know?" Following his finger, Rowan could make out some kind of makeshift tent. For most of their journey, they'd been walking through the seemingly endless fields with the forest at their side. The camp was nestled deep in the trees, hidden quite well by the trunks and ferns around it.

His vision was better now, but he thought that just a month ago, he wouldn't have been able to see any of the camp through the foliage. As the group adjusted its course to head towards the camp, Rowan watched Cynthia playing. With how she was able to dodge and destroy it almost every time, it seemed like she'd mostly figured out the patterns of the charging butterfly. So, with a thought, he began to change how it moved.

The mana construct kept relatively simple patterns, but sometimes it would charge slightly slower on purpose, only to burst ahead once it was near Cynthia. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. And when it failed a charge, rather than just staying on the same course and allowing the little girl to destroy it, it would change course and attempt to flee.

Immediately, Cynthia—who had been beginning to look bored once more—began dodging away from the butterfly with more vigor than ever, a huge smile on her face. Even with the changes, the mana construct was still unable to catch the girl. The butterfly managed it a few times when Cynthia had still been unprepared and had yet to see the bug moving, but now, it seemed like it would never be able to catch her. Since they were about to get to the camp, anyway, Rowan put extra effort into controlling the wispy construct.

As the child dodged away from the butterfly and then cut off its escape, Rowan changed things up again. She swept her arm towards the construct, but it danced away, flitting through the air. It dodged again and again, and then, once Cynthia was beginning to figure out how to catch it once more, it rushed at her. The butterfly shot under her arm and floated up to her face before landing on her nose. Before she could do anything, Rowan released his hold of the mana, letting it disperse into the air.

Cynthia glanced around in confusion for a few more moments before pouting and stomping over to him.

"Uncle Rowan! You cheated! It can't just disappear like that!" Feigning innocence, Rowan just smiled.

"I don't know what you're talking about! The butterfly just got tired and needed a break!" But the girl just continued glaring up at him, arms crossed.

"I'm not stupid!" With a sigh, Rowan laughed.

"I know you're not, but we're at the camp now." Her eyes widened, and she whipped around, looking at the tent that was just a dozen meters away. As she stood, Rowan rustled her hair. It seemed the girl had been so focused on the butterfly he'd made that she hadn't even noticed when they'd entered the forest by the camp. He smiled. That meant that he'd done a good job with the mana construct. Now, though, it was time to look around their camp.

He might've been tired, but he wasn't just going to sleep without first getting an idea of where he was. The tent that he'd seen was actually a large tarp connected to several trees and providing shelter from the sun and rain—he frowned. Did it rain here? Probably. If not, how would all of the plants survive? Or perhaps underground rivers like the one he'd followed to the broodmother's chamber were responsible. Either way, it didn't matter. The tarp was made from a dozen different skins and furs, all sewn together.

At the edge of the camp, there was a small mound of dirt. And, impaled into it, was a spear with a piece of cloth wrapped around the butt. After a moment, Rowan realized that it was a grave, probably for Isabella. As he looked closer around the camp, he saw claw marks on trees and blood on the forest floor. It looked like someone had tried to cover the blood by kicking dirt over it, but they hadn't gotten all of it. He frowned.

They had said that Isabella had been taken from their camp after the bloodspawn attacked, so these were likely just remnants of the battle. He was tempted to ask about the grave and signs of battle, but held himself back; they seemed to be taking the loss of Isabella well, but he didn't want to pry when it had happened so recently. Shaking his head, he looked around the rest of the camp. To the side of the tarp, surrounded by logs, was a small fire pit with a spit and a large pot. Rowan tilted his head.

How did they get the pot? It was metal, so either someone had brought it with them to the Tutorial, or people were already figuring out metalworking. If he was being honest, he thought that with the powers granted by the System, both were equally likely. At that moment, Eren ran off towards a stack of crude wooden boxes that seemed to be their storage. She rummaged through them for a while before emerging with a bundle of clothes. Eyes widening, Rowan looked down at himself. He was still naked.

He'd gotten so used to being like this that he'd completely forgotten that he was wearing only what was essentially underwear.

"Well, these are the clothes that we've got," Eren said.

"The shirt is a bit old-fashioned, but it's the only one we've got." Still grimacing, he nodded his thanks as the woman handed the clothes to him. Then, he split off from the group and walked behind a tree to change. He'd been given a pair of slightly torn linen pants. Looking down at the foot-long tatters that were all that remained of his old pants and underwear, he undid his belt and slid them off, throwing them to the side. Then, he took off his shoes and slid his pants on.

As he put his shoes back on, he inspected them. They'd held out surprisingly well, so much so that he hadn't needed to worry about them while he was stuck in the tunnels. He'd been wearing dress shoes, and while they weren't designed for running, they were far more durable than any of the shoes he had normally worn. He supposed it was lucky that he'd been all dressed up for a job interview when the scaffolding fell on him rather than if he were just wearing his normal clothes and tennis shoes.

With a sigh, he turned his attention to the shirt that he'd been given. Just like Eren had said, it was old-fashioned, made of leather with a high collar. Buttons ran up ot the front, and some kind of gold lace was threaded into the shirt itself. While it was certainly not his style, it wasn't like Rowan had any other choice but to wear it. Still, he was grateful to finally have something to wear. Sliding the shirt onto his body, he buttoned it up.

Despite the rough leather exterior, it was surprisingly comfortable, and while it may not have been a perfect fit, it was good enough for him. Then, as he stepped out from behind the tree, he found his senses bombarded by the smell of food. Real food.