Chương 17: Accidental Confessions

Sometimes you need to do things you aren't proud of, to get ahead. Take care that you don't lose yourself in that pursuit of power. —The Artificer's Guide to Not Becoming Evil Clinking of kettles and the soft bustle of my neighbors preparing for the day woke me, a pleasant change from recent nights. For the first time since leaving Fairfield, I had slept in, and slept well. Sitting up, I leaned forward and stretched before getting to my feet.

Nearly a solid week of travel had gone by, and I hadn't realized just how knotted my muscles had become. I wandered between the broken buildings, the scent of breakfast, a siren's song luring me through the busy campsite. An old table was wiped down and placed beside the cooking pot, one of the few artifacts that had survived the years. Salvaged wood from less serviceable furniture lay in a pile, ready to feed the fire.

"You hungry, dear?" Tabitha ladled a steaming brown stew into a wooden bowl.

"We've got leftovers from yesterday, and I simmered it with the last of our eatin' taters and a couple other bits of this and that. I wish I could've added more, but we need to save the rest if we want anything to plant. I thought it'd be a nice touch to have the rest for breakfast today, though. We're celebratin' after all!" She smiled sweetly, throwing in an extra scoop as I took the warm bowl.

"Last call for seconds! This won't keep till lunch!" Her call brought more than a few people back to the line. The meat was tender, and the potatoes soft. I was glad I had waited longer to eat. Despite blowing on the meal until I was dizzy, I still scalded the roof of my mouth in my haste to eat, and my bowl was quickly scraped clean. If Tabitha could make meat and potatoes taste this nice with as little as she had, I couldn't wait to see what she was capable of with a full spread of ingredients in a real kitchen.

I had been neglecting to prepare materials for leatherworking with everything going on and figured now was as good a time as any to remedy that. Looking around for Gene, I caught the attention of one of the men from our first meeting, and his name smoothly slid to the forefront of my mind. The perks of good memory continue…

"Hey, Perry? You seen Gene around?" He seemed surprised that I remembered his name.

"Last I saw him was over by the cart." He gestured toward the wagon, and I saw Nibbles playing with the children. He was never far from Gene's side. We were both going the same direction, and he fell in beside me.

"Nice work on that bow, by the way. That was some quality craftsmanship, especially while on the road." He pursed his lips, as though a thought had come to him.

"I hate to ask, but do you think you could hook me up with a sling? I remember hunting squirrels when I was a kid." He mimed spinning and releasing a sling.

"I could bean one right between the eyes at fifty feet or so. They really pack a punch if you know what you're doing."

"That's actually a really good idea. I bet you could do a lot better than fifty feet now." I had plenty of materials, and it was perfect for killing small game. Even the kids could learn to use them.

"I'll get a few made, and let me know if you have any other ideas."

"Can do!" He beamed back.

"I haven't been able to do much since we left our fishing spot, so it'll be nice to contribute more." I broke off from the conversation to call over the definitely-not-so-little-dog.

"Nibbles! Where's Gene?" His hair was getting longer and waved in the air when he cocked his head at Gene's name.

"Where's Gene?" I repeated, more excitedly, slapping my thighs. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He barked loudly and spun in a circle before leaping away. I had to jog after him as he zipped around the corner of the nearest building, and just about crashed into Gene as he was coming the opposite direction, zipping up his pants.

"There you are, I've been looking for you, old man!"

"Can't an 'old man' drain the lizard in peace?" He asked, annoyed.

"Heard yer yappin' from around the corner."

"Somebody needs a nap. More importantly though, where are those hides from yesterday? I wanted to see about getting those tanned."

"Not a bad idea, I suppose, now that we're gettin' close to settlin' down." He pointed a ways out from the camp.

"I dressed 'em out yonder. I didn't want to be drawing some hungry critter over here." He turned and gave a sharp whistle at Nibbles.

"I'm gonna help wrastle the rest of the junk back in the wagon since we're about to head out." Nibbles happily trotted behind him as he returned to the cart. The area Gene had indicated, a good hundred yards off, was a bloody mess. The rabbit skins were laid out where he had dressed them, but the entrails were missing, along with the carcass of the larger tantar. The dirt was scored where the larger beast's remains had been, raked by claws that left long streaks.

Whatever creature had feasted on the remains had done so without being spotted—an impressive feat considering the size of the tantar. The hairs on my neck stood on end, and a chill ran up my spine, accompanying the feeling of being watched. I snatched up the rabbits by their tails and hurried back to the relative safety of the group, keeping a nervous eye on my surroundings. Not wanting to frighten the group, I quietly informed Gene and Ernie of what I'd seen.

Gene said he 'reckoned it was just a scavenger after a meal' and that was the reason he'd put it so far away from camp, though he didn't quite meet my eye. Ernie seemed placated and thanked me for letting them know, after all; as an HOA member, I did have a civic duty to report any and all suspicious behavior in the neighborhood. The caravan was nearly ready to get moving, so I quickly set up nearby, using a large stone as a table.

Placing the rabbit skins on the block, fur side down, I began to flesh the hides, scraping away the inner membrane. The hatchet pulled at the hides, scrunching them up, making me cut too deep on several occasions. It seemed my dexterity allowed for a quickness that my experience wasn't quite keeping up with. I knew it wasn't the best way to go about it; what I really needed was a rounded log, but the caravan was pulling away, and I'd run out of time.

Some twigs poked into the corners of the hide kept it splayed open, and I looped them onto the side of the cart. Out of the sun, they would get a good draft and dry out until I had a way to properly tan them. They were not my finest work, but there would be many more where they came from. My first rushed attempt at skinning complete, I fell into stride beside Emmie, who was keeping pace with the wagon on her crutches. I knew she didn't want to talk about her leg. It was probably all anyone talked about.

Instead, I dove straight into my most burning question.

"So, that punch, how'd you do it?" She grinned, like she'd been waiting for someone to ask.

"Let's just say that fight wasn't my first. That was after I realized that I could actually push mana outside my body…" Like a floodgate, she opened up and told me all about how she'd spent her time in Fairfield.

Bark flew from the tree in small chunks. Marjorie grunted as she repeatedly punched the same spot. Her dark brown skin shone in the heat of the sun, and sweat streamed in small rivulets down her brow and over her face. It tickled when it dripped from her nose, but she ignored it. All of her focus was on one point. Each punishing blow felt like it would rip her hands apart, but the skin of her knuckles was unbroken and unblemished.

She could sense the glowing blue concept clutched in her fist straining to connect with her. She punched again, this time met with a sharp pain. Her concentration faltered, and rough bark tore at the skin of her knuckles. It stung as blood mixed with sweat. Following the orb's guidance in her trancelike state, she pushed her rapidly dwindling mana reserves outward with [Mana Manipulation], and they absorbed the impact from the next strike.

A faint voice screamed at her that she was going to bottom out again, to stop lest she go through that awful, awful mana sickness again. She ignored it, and punched again. The drain increased, and her connection with the system-granted skill grew a little more feeble. She punched again. And again. And then it happened. Just like she knew that it had to. The concept in her palm flowed into her and disappeared, replaced with an alert on the edge of her vision. She fell against the tree and slid down onto the grass.

Panting from the extended exertion, she closed her eyes and steadied her ragged breaths before opening the notification. > Class skill unlocked: Infused Strikes > Your prowess in martial combat has expanded. Higher levels will increase mana efficiency or evolve, resulting in varied ways to express your power. She was glad to be rid of the Concept of Protection, now identified under an expanded skill description.

There hadn't been any word from the fishermen yet, but it was only a matter of time until someone began asking about the multitude of large, dead turtles in the river.