另类小说人亚洲小说

Chapter Type: Environment, Social

After far too little sleep, the sunlight found me on the beach, legs and tail trailing in the wash zone.

Other than the sheer exhaustion and a bite mark where a shark had nibbled on me before deciding I didn’t taste that good, I was actually in better shape than normal. The kelp line had better food than I’d had in a while. For being exiled, I was doing outstanding.

I didn’t even have to wander far along the beach before spotting smoke. And smoke meant fire, which usually meant civilization. For a few wonderful minutes, I forgot that I owned nothing but a black headband that indicated I was living on borrowed time.

Fishing villages start life early; the boats were already out, those that weren’t being repaired. Everyone in the village seemed to be working on something, even the elderly woman who was untangling nets.

“Excuse me,” I asked her, “but where is the village elder or leader?”

“Out on the ocean, small lizard.” she said. “You ought to remove that black headband.”

“Oh? Why?” I asked.

.....

“Because it marks you as being less than a person, as one who is as dead.”

I shrugged. “I am as one who is dead to your society.”

She chuckled, turning her eyes back to her task. “I’ll put it another way, then. People can kill you without fear of punishment.”

They could do what? “Someone neglected to mention that to me.”

“I notice you are still wearing it.”

“Mmm.” I said. “If I were to tell you something, would you tell the village elder when they come back?”

“Depends what I’d be bothering her about.”

“Fair enough.” I delivered the message from the earth elementals.

“Nobody here cares about earth spirits, you crazy goof. Go elsewhere. Perhaps if Boar’s Crossing doesn’t kill you, they might care.”

“Excellent.” I said. “How do I get there?”

She pointed at the slope above the shoreline. “Go that way far enough, and you’ll come to a road. Turn left, and it will lead you right there.”

I thanked her, and bowed, then proceeded to Boar’s Crossing. My path led me through a wood, so when I came upon Boar’s Crossing I had a belt of woven bark, a walking stick, and even the start of a very small shield made from merged branches.

Even the bandit who fired an arrow near me couldn’t dampen my mood for long. He wanted everything I had, little as that was. His clothing size was just too big to fit me, but I stored the bow and his quiver of arrows into my inventory, swapped belts with his corpse, and left his sword hanging from my new leather belt.

Sadly, Boar’s Crossing wasn’t receptive to the message, either. The mayor (his title for his position, not mine) told me to be outside of his town by dusk, and so I was, following the eastern road out of the crossing.

I chose the south side of the road, for its thick grasses that would keep me from being seen. There, some tiny insects and I had a nonverbal discussion over exactly who was eating whom. Don’t judge me, insects are good protein, and if you get those with hard exoskeletons you can get a point or two of Calciates in the nutritional mix.

But the moon was full that night, so I reported to Manajuwejet in the Dreamtime.

“Kid! What did you do to the Horned Rat?”

“It’s more of what I didn’t let him do unto me.” I said.

“Okay, so nothing, then. Self defense? Good, good. Any ... consequences?”

“My System did something called a reboot. I was without it for a day.”

“Yeah... it could have been worse. Glad it’s not, though. Oh, and Sobek says there’s a river goddess in some town called Murky Basin who’s willing to share worshipers with him if you help take care of a swamp monster.”

“What type?”

“Prayer wasn’t specific; swamp monster. Killing folks. You want the quest?”

“Let me find out where this village is before I commit. I’d hate to find it’s on the far south of the island.”

“It’s on the eastern slope of one of the two middle mountains. Or maybe they’re hills.”

“It’s a matter of size and shape and the support of cartographers. I think it’s all hills, I don’t see a defined peak on the horizon.”

“Well, then it’s one of those two middle lumps once you’re south of that wall.”

“I’m south of the wall.” I said, and explained my situation.

“How?” he asked. “How can you manage to hold that much misfortune in one life? Is this something you just do to yourself out of boredom?”

“Not deliberately.” I said. “Look, the elementals were going to kill someone, I figured having them kill someone who wanted to kill me was a good thing.”

He spread open pincers in the scorpion equivalent of a shrug. “I don’t get Daurians. You’re down there in the mortal world, that’s something you need to do on your own. Ask me something spiritual, like how to become immortal.”

“Okay, how do I become immortal?” I asked.

“When you have a single mana pool capable of holding over a hundred twenty tier two mana, I’ll let you know.” he said.

“That’s a pretty hefty pool.” I said.

“Immortality is on the list of things with a pretty hefty price.” he responded.

A rabbit came running up to us. “Manajuwejet, you need to wake him up.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“A grainstrider has found him.”

“Oh, crap. Good luck, kid.”

[You are now awake. You need a minimum of six more hours of sleep to prevent loss of Sanity and Serenity.]

I yawned, rolling off my shield. I barely had time to get my arm through the straps before it was on me, a creature like two bone woks put together, on stilt-like legs, with the mouth on the underside. And I do mean on me; it literally fell across my shield, struggling to bite through it to my softer flesh behind.

I took swipes at it with the sword; it bounced up and down, slobbering on me.

[You have been exposed to level two paralytic poison.] my System informed me.

As bizarre as the creature was, it wasn’t hard to fight. It just didn’t weigh enough to bowl me over once I had my feet, and its bite only did damage on a critical hit. More importantly, after losing its second leg, it lost its footing. I stomped a foot onto its ridged back, and did not let it rise.

It turns out that you can cook a grainstrider inside its shell, much like cooking crabs but on a larger scale. Plus, the fire kept away its fellows. Not that I should have objected; base six nutrition per serving, before cooking, mixing food types, or infusing. Eight servings per grainstalker, not counting the legs, and it made a decent meal. Tomorrow, I’d need to forage up some vegetables, fruits, and nuts.

It was when I fell back asleep that I learned to respect grainstriders. I awoke with four of them tearing at me, all at once. Armored, I wouldn’t have minded as much. And, obviously, I’m writing my memoirs and not them. But they dealt two days of injury to me before I’d killed half of them and driven off the other two.

At least they weren’t wolves; I don’t think I’d have survived if they had actual teamwork and not just a dogpile bonus. Why would they attack, anyway? Bugs were just weird.

I told my System to just flag the sleep penalty, and made the village of Hengu Town (not an actual town) just after dawn. It was a larger village, two concentric rings of eight huts inside a picket fence that only came up to my shoulder.

I delivered my message, and got cussed out for wasting their time as farmers. “The people who need to hear this message are the lords of the Bronze valley. Just follow the road toward the rising sun, and you can’t miss them.”

But, in the spirit of hospitality, they gave me food and medicine, and someone’s extra shirt. I thanked them and moved on. There weren’t even bandit attacks, and most of the animals just left when I sent them mental messages.

Except for that barky mutt near the lone hut. If you live there, know that your dog followed me half a mile before returning to you, barking all the way and striking at my tail. The word dedicated comes to mind, as well as others I’m not in a foul enough mood to share just now.

Be proud of your noble protector, and honestly... your house needs a new roof. And walls. Don’t just burn it down and start over, but still...

Anyway.

I reached Copper Farms that afternoon, just before they closed the gates. Alas, their reception of the elemental’s message would be ... different.