Hellish Training and the Freckled Village Girl
After that day, I spent dramatically less time at the dorm.
No, actually, less time inside the castle walls altogether.
I was basically living outside twenty-four-seven.
It was all to hurl myself into the most extreme situations possible.
The first two weeks, I hunkered down in the Demon Realm.
Honestly, looking back now, I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking pulling off something so goddamn reckless.
A guy who'd never lasted even a week in the Demon Realm before, declaring he'd stay a full two weeks on his first goddamn try.
By sheer luck, the guard logging entries was James, the same guy who'd handled me coming back through the Demon Realm from Tusnis Mountain last time.
He took one look at me and must've thought I was just as suicidal as I looked, because he tried like hell to talk me out of it before finally throwing up his hands.
After all that hassle, he finally let me through to the Demon Realm.
And once I was in, I never once went back to the dorm or anything.
I survived fourteen straight days in a place with no potable water or food.
Of course, I did pack emergency rations and water.
This was about tempering myself, not committing suicide.
No harm in preparing for the what-ifs.
Though toward the end, those supplies I brought ended up testing my endurance almost as much as the wasteland itself...
Anyway, that was the deal.
I had five specific goals I wanted to achieve—or improve—in the Demon Realm.
1. Survey Demon Realm flora.
2. Investigate unidentified demon beast species.
3. Bolster overall abilities: crisis response, snap judgment, comprehensive stat growth in extreme or dire situations.
4. Basic stat growth.
5. Increase aura capacity.
One and two were things I could knock out just by wandering around.
So I set out from the base camp I'd made in the Demon Realm to tackle those first—only to nearly get myself killed by going too damn far.
If you had to pick the single most common thread in old tales from every nation, it'd hands-down be "At night, the demon beasts eat you!"
It's not just a story to keep kids from screwing around or to stop people wandering at night.
It's straight facts passed down by our ancestors about demon beasts' shared habits.
At night, their ferocity, aggression, and roaming range skyrocket.
The Demon Realm in particular, with its thicker demonic energy concentration, had a reputation as a place where wandering after dark was suicide.
A wise, cautious veteran merc would've heard that and spent the first day holing up somewhere safe from dawn till dusk before moving.
But I got this suspiciously sharp gut feeling that night was coming soon—yet dismissed it with some rational bullshit like "The sun's still high in the sky, why worry?" and pushed way too far on day one.
That day, I didn't see the sun slowly dipping as the moon rose.
No—in the blink of an eye, right where the sun had been hanging, it just vanished, and the moon popped into place.
"Grahhh!!! Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I was burning through my precious stamina reserves, chanting spells to fend off the horde of charging demon beasts.
Thanks to that uncannily sharp instinct again, I figured out how to counter them and sliced the bastards apart—but even now, I swear I nearly died for real.
It felt like I'd solo-blocked half a dungeon break.
Thanks to that, I knocked out goals three and four in one efficient go—but I never wanted to pull that stunt again.
......
"Ha shit."
That was the plan.
But this damn gut, this damn feeling, kept insisting this was the right way.
Ever since awakening on Tusnis Mountain, ignoring my instincts had led to bigger fuckups more times than I could count.
It was like my brain and body knew something subconsciously, always guiding me to the right choice.
'Fine, one more shot this time. If this bullshit doesn't help my growth one bit, I'm done with it for real...'
- Whoosh.
"Keruk!"
"Kweek!!!"
"Kik! Kik!"
"Kuoong!!!"
It grew.
From reflexes and stamina—basic physical stats,
to swordsmanship precision and speed,
improvisation and hand-to-hand,
aura quantity, quality, and application.
Every damn aspect—I could confidently say no other method could've grown me this fast.
And as a side note, from all this freakish training...
'Why the hell do I hate monkeys so much?'
I'd developed a near-phobic loathing for monkey-type demon beasts.
Other beasts, no matter how weird or bullshit their patterns, I'd just shrug and kill 'em.
But whenever I ran into ones I'd dubbed "ghost monkeys," I wanted to wipe out their entire bloodline.
'At night, they don't even show themselves—the cowardly, sneaky, pathetic parentless—'
Whoa, whoa!
Anyway.
Two weeks into this routine,
thanks to that genius call to pack emergency rations and water—one of the best decisions of my life—I barely dragged myself back to Rotten.
"Wha... Evan, what the hell happened to you?"
James gawked at my state, face twisted in horror, asking what the fuck I'd done to end up like this.
I brushed it off as no big deal, said I was beat and to let me through quick,
"Uh, uh... yeah, okay. You look like you need rest. I almost rang the bell, shut the gates, and doused you in holy water thinking you were undead."
"That's a hell of a way to greet a living guy, lol. Too much?"
"Sorry, sorry lololol."
We bantered like old pals, waved and laughed as we parted.
I crashed at the dorm, rinsed off quick, and passed out hard.
After waking, I hunted demon beasts in the forests around Rotten.
Sometimes I'd clear out monsters my old crewmates were supposed to handle,
or rescue merchants and randos in trouble.
"Thank you! Thank you!"
"No sweat. Get going—time's money. Straight half-hour walk and you're in Rotten."
And now.
I was repeating my usual routine, prowling the nearby woods.
"Haa... huu..."
Sitting on a slain demon beast's corpse, catching my breath,
- Rustle. Rustle.
Bushes right in front of me shook.
- Shk.
I held my breath, drew the iron sword from my merc days.
Ever since that variant boar hunt, I'd never once used the sword from Tusnis Mountain.
It was too fine a blade... or something. Felt wrong to swing it, y'know?
Anyway, tension maxed out—
...
......
........!!!!!
"Ow."
A girl burst from the bushes.
First glance at her brown hair, I thought Mari—but no, not her.
No reason for Mari to be out here anyway.
Looking closer, hairstyle was different too.
Mari had a plain bob; this girl had long straight hair in a half-up braid.
Freckles across her nose bridge.
Total epitome of a plain country girl?
"Haa..."
- Shing. Clack.
I eased off, sheathed the sword.
Then spoke to the girl as kindly as I could.
"Sorry. Wasn't trying to threaten you, but this spot's got me on edge."
Of course, I wasn't fully dropping my guard.
Battlefield wisdom: watch out for kids, women, and old folks. There's reasons for that.
Don't question it—just follow rules written in blood when lives are on the line.
But,
"Hehe... no, my bad for popping out from there!"
She beamed innocently, and my tension melted away.
And right then,
'Urk.'
My head throbbed like hell.
Pain this bad? First time in my life.
Fleeting,
a memory that shouldn't exist.
Golden hair like sunlit fields, eyes blue as autumn skies.
A woman walking hands behind her back, suddenly turning to ask me,
'Do you like flames?'
***
"Urgh..."
- Shh. Shh.
Wind rustled leaves gently.
I cracked my eyes open with effort. Looming over me, a massive shadow...
"Oh? You're up!"
Ah,
"!!!!!"
I scrambled away from the girl in panic.
'Holy shit...'
First meeting her, I'd been sizing her up—eyes, hands, feet—wary as hell.
Never imagined she'd be packing that on her chest.
Not like they were huge or anything, but big enough to make you wonder how she even got around comfortably.
I thanked the girl who'd given my collapsed ass a lap pillow.
"Thanks. You had your own stuff to do, but you stayed by my side."
She waved it off.
"No problem! Wasn't busy or anything..."
"So what brings you out here?"
She pondered a sec,
"Ah... um... herbs! Came to pick herbs!"
She said she'd come outside the village for herbs.
"Yeah, makes sense—you won't find 'em near towns or cities. Want me to help?"
"That'd be great!"
So, to repay her, I helped hunt herbs.
Merc habits made it easy; I spotted and handed them over no sweat.
"Wah... so many."
"That enough?"
"Yes! More than enough!"
Her bright smile lifted my mood too.
We walked side by side back to Rotten.
She was heading there to sell the herbs anyway—lucky, same destination.
"What's your name, by the way?"
Normally, I wouldn't ask.
I'm no girl-crazy dude; never been big on romance.
But weird, right?
Something about her just drew me in.
"Um..."
She hesitated a bit.
No, more like pondering... nah.
"Bell."
She murmured softly.
"Call me Bell."
She said it shyly, and the deja vu hit harder.
Couldn't hold back; I asked,
"Have we... met before?"