Minute Mage: A Time-Traveling LitRPG Progression Fantasy - Chapter 242: What She Wants
Pike walked around the sand dunes, retrieving all of his lost weapons. In the meantime, I looked back at Ainash. “Are you okay?”
After a moment, she finally answered. “…Human beat me. Did not win.”
“You passed the test,” I said. “All you needed to do was fight well enough, and you did. So you’re good; you’re a citizen now, and all that.”
“But in real fight, that Human would kill me.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re in danger. He seems friendly enough.”
She frowned, gazing at Pike as he grabbed the icy spear. The moment he touched it to his belt, it instantly shrunk back down to a metal stick and attached itself to his waist.
Erani walked over to me and whispered in my ear, “Do you think she’s okay?”
“I think so,” I replied. “Just a little shaken up.”
She nodded, then looked over at Pike as he grabbed the two knives, both lying together in the sand. Furrowing her brows, she called out, “How do those work, anyway?”
“Hm?” he looked back. “Oh, the daggers? Pretty much just magnetized together, and I can control the force applied with my mind.”
“So it’s just force Enchantments controlling the movement?”
“Don’t know much about the technicalities of it all, but as far as I know, these weren’t too difficult to make, so it’s probably that. Otherwise the Enchanter would’ve charged me out the ass.”
“Oh, did you get these made from the privileges you got for winning the tournament?” I asked. “Access to Enchanters, and all that?”
“Nah, nah, this was how I won the Tourney. Pretty valuable to be able to go into a fight against the easier opponents and only use the basic weapons, that way the stronger ones you fight later on are surprised when you pull out your serious tactics.” He hefted the massive greatsword next, nodding to it. “All I used for the first couple rounds; everyone thought I was just some basic high-Strength Swordsman.”
“Is that one mundane?” Erani asked. “I didn’t see any obvious magical effects with it.”
“Nah, lets me control its weight. Make it lighter on the upswing, then heavier on the downswing, that sort of thing” he said. “Though you’re right that it isn’t obvious. Weight effects aren’t too intense. Here, try it; it’s heavy enough that you still can’t lift it at its lightest if you haven’t shaped your Stats around Strength.”
He set it on the ground, and Erani shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine. I believe you—that’s way too heavy for me.”
I glanced at her and suppressed a smirk. She wasn’t refusing because she knew she couldn’t, she was refusing because she probably could. With the Bond granting so many extra Stats to her, it was entirely possible that she’d be able to pick up such a massive implement.
Pike shrugged, grabbing the sword and attaching it to his belt, too. “Whatever. Well, anyway, if you three are all serious about entering into the tournament, I’ll go ahead and give you some advice: don’t tip your hand too early. If it’s possible to win without showing something off, fight without showing it off. ‘Cause your opponents will be watching, and they’ll prepare. Rounds are a day apart, and you can bring whatever equipment you want in, so lots of rich bastards get pretty far by bringing in some potions that give elemental resistance against everything they know their opponents use. That’s why I won—I could change out my weapons each round, and nobody could prepare for me.”
“Noted,” I said. “Thanks for the advice. By the way, what’s your Level? Just so we know who we’ll likely be up against if we wanna win.”
“Just passed into the low 30s,” he said. “Though it’s often pretty tough to predict the Level of the winner. The Tourney before mine—the second—was won by some noble kid who couldn’t fight for shit but was decked out in insanely expensive gear. Plus, there’re plenty of rounds that are upset by outside conditions. Arena, or weather, freak accident, whatever. Will say, though, if raw power’s your type of style like your monster over there, you might wanna train up another Level before the elimination round’s over, if you can. Extra numbers can’t hurt.”
“Yeah, as long as we aren’t spending all our time trying to complete it, that would be nice,” I said.
“Ah, you’ll be fine,” he said. “Elimination round’s normally pretty easy. Just trying to sort out the riff-raff. Had plenty of extra time during mine. Anyway, I gotta get going. Duty calls, and all that. Hopefully I’ll see you when one of you wins and gets recruited into the program.”
With that, he turned and started walking toward the city’s entrance. The guards and the first specialist—still looking quite miffed at how unimportant he was in all this—followed shortly thereafter, leaving us standing alone next to Precipice’s outer stone walls.
I looked back at Ainash, who still seemed shaken up at her loss. Hopefully this next part would cheer her up a bit. “So, are you ready to go inside?”
It wasn’t technically Ainash’s first time inside a Human city since she’d entered Salvation to fight Jon, but it was her first time inside a Human city legally, where she could walk around in the open air without worrying about anyone seeing her—or about enemies ambushing her. Though, these outer reaches of the city weren’t exactly the most exciting place to be. All the unimpressive huts looked the same, the streets were difficult to navigate, and the entire area didn’t have much to do. I just hoped the inner circles of Precipice were better—at least, enough to make up for the disappointment of these outer slums a little bit.
That said, Ainash didn’t seem all that unhappy. She gazed around at the huts and the people as we walked through, and I even saw her smile slightly when we walked down a street only to find we’d hit a dead-end.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out a way to word what she wanted to say. Eventually, she responded, “Reminds me of home.”
“Home?”
“Lots of trees everywhere, sometimes hard to remember where to go. Pass by animals in lots of places, and they do not even look at you. All are living their own lives, as you are your own. Fields and desert outside Human settlements feel too…not real. Like Humans took out messiness. This is messy, like home. I like it.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you do. Do…do you like being reminded of home? I thought that maybe, because of how you were forced to leave…”
She walked in silence for some time, staring ahead. After a minute or two, she closed her eyes for a moment, then said somberly, “I miss mom.”
Erani leaned over and wrapped an arm around her. “I know baby, I know. I-I’m sorry if we can’t…If we aren’t…”
Ainash detached herself from Erani’s embrace and walked to the side of the road, sitting down on the ground and sinking her fingers into the sand. We stopped and looked at her.
“I am not strong,” she said. “Am very, very weak. If want to kill all Demons, cannot lose to a Human. Must get stronger. …Do not know if I can win in Human tournament. Do not know if I am strong enough.”
Erani grimaced. “You don’t need to work so hard. You can take a break.”
“Cannot.” The single word was forceful and certain.
I thought back. In my own memories, I’d seen Ainash die several times by now. But in all of the timelines where she’d lost a fight, I’d always gone back to undo it. Sure, she’d retreated here and there, but to actually, unequivocally lose in an encounter with an opponent…Had it ever happened from her perspective since we’d originally fled with her from the Demons invading her home? Had she never experienced defeat?
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“Have to get stronger,” she said. “Cannot…cannot fight other Humans right now.”
“Are you saying you want to withdraw?” Erani asked.
Ainash let out a wordless breath.
I met her eyes. “I don’t know if I can help you win every fight you have in the future, or even just win this tournament. But I can try. I can help you get stronger.”
Erani looked over at me, clearly unsure of my words to Ainash.
“If you want to get stronger,” I continued, “you’re going to have to accept that you’re not strong right now. I’ve experienced death countless times. I know when I’m beat. I know when I see an opponent that I can’t win against. You have to understand that you can’t win every time. And you might not win next time, or the time after that, or the time after that.”
Ainash shook her head. “Cannot lose ever again. No time. Have to get stronger now.”
“Strength is fickle,” I said. “You can’t force it. Maybe you can do a bunch of push-ups, or go out on a big long trip hunting for XP, or practice your magic until you almost pass out, and sure, that’ll make you a little more powerful. You’ll punch harder, have better Stats, whatever. But you can’t count yourself as being truly strong just because you can lift a bigger rock than all your friends. Strength comes from failure. It comes from messing up and fucking yourself over, and then looking back, and understanding what you did wrong. You add the misstep to your list of mistakes you’ll never make again, and keep moving forward.”
“No,” Ainash said. “If am strong enough, do not need to make mistakes. Enough power will—”
“It’s not about your raw power. It’s not about how many obstacles you can force your way through before you collapse. It’s about whether or not, once you inevitably collapse, you can get back up. Because you will. I’m sorry to say it, kiddo, but you are going to fail. Over and over again, you will fall flat on your face, and you will ask yourself ‘why did I ever choose this life for myself?’ Strength is being able to answer that question. Strength is saying ‘because I want to be better than I was yesterday,’ or ‘because I can’t stand to see the enemy win,’ or ‘because I want to protect the ones I love,’ or whatever it is you fight for. But you have to fight for something. And you have to figure out what that something is, because this life you’ve chosen will beat you down until you can’t stand anymore, and you’re going to have to find a way to get back up.”
Still holding my gaze with her, I saw tears moisten Ainash’s eyes. I held my hand out.
“Kiddo, do you want to get back up?”
“I do.” She reached out and clasped my hand, pulling herself back to her feet. “Father, want to win.”
“You know it’s not guaranteed, right?”
“Yes. But want to win.”
I nodded. “Then I’ll do my best to ensure you do with the little time we have to prepare.”
Ainash didn’t respond, but I got two System notifications telling me all I needed to know.
Threshold reached.
Your Bond with Level 33 Draconiad has deepened.
Due to your Bond being deepened, it has undergone the following changes:
Stat Increase: From 22 to 24
XP Gain: From 11% to 12%
Heat Resistance: From 49.4% to 52.4%
Mana Increase: From 110 to 120
Mana/Minute Increase: From 8.1 to 8.84
Threshold reached.
Your Bond with Level 33 Draconiad has deepened.
Due to your Bond being deepened, it has undergone the following changes:
Stat Increase: From 24 to 26
XP Gain: From 12% to 13%
Heat Resistance: From 52.4% to 55.3%
Mana Increase: From 120 to 130
Mana/Minute Increase: From 8.84 to 9.57
Erani leaned over to me. “Are you sure it’s best to encourage her competitive attitude?”
“She wanted to win. Who am I to deny the kid what she wants?”
Over the next half hour or so, we wandered the city looking for a place to sleep. It was nighttime, and tomorrow was the day the elimination round’s requirements would be announced, so we figured a full night’s rest would be helpful for a day as busy as it would surely be.
Unfortunately, though, it seemed like inns were slightly harder to come by as I’d hoped they would be. We’d searched for some time, now, without finding any. At least the temperature was much more bearable to walk around in now that it was dark, compared to the sweltering heat that beat down on us on our journey to the city itself.
While we wandered the maze-like streets of the outer ring of Precipice, I saw someone walking up to me. Considering how late it was, most of the area had emptied out by now—everyone with work tomorrow had gone to sleep. So I prepared myself to either be begged for money, or mugged. Not that I’d likely need to worry about a petty mugger, but still.
However, as they got closer, I saw that the woman’s clothes weren’t tattered, her hair wasn’t matted, and it actually looked like she’d bathed in the past couple months—very unlike the other people I’d seen around the area.
“Is that a courier?” Erani asked. “She’s got a messenger bag.”
Glancing at her waist, I saw that she did, indeed, have a bag that looked like it would be used to carry letters around. Seemed like someone around here had late-night mail.
But then the woman stopped right in front of us.
“Excuse me, are you…” She glanced down at a piece of paper. “Annor and Eita?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said.
“I’ve got a message from you,” she said. “Well, it was supposed to be either delivered to you, or to another pair of adventurers named Arlan and Erani, whichever I found first. Regardless, it’s from Miss Sylvie-Ann of the Shirean family. What she wants is for you to hear it immediately, if you have the time; it’s quite urgent”
