Extreme Cold Survival Training (5)
"…What are you doing here? Sion Illeionhart, and Lara Steelhiden."
The instructor's question made me pause my fishing, and Lara Steelhiden rose from her chair.
"We're participating in the survival training."
"This is… survival?"
The instructor scanned our camp, then furrowed his brow. His wrinkled face twisted as he spoke.
"Survival training isn't a game. Do you have any idea how far I had to trek to find you two?"
Now that I looked closely, the instructor's breath was ragged, coming right up to his chin.
Before he could say more, I handed him the hot water I'd warmed in the lamp ahead of time.
He eyed the cup I offered with a dubious expression, but eventually took it. He sipped the warm water slowly.
"You said this training was meant to let us experience how tough life in the polar regions really is."
"The intent is, yes."
When the water was about half gone, I pulled out the line I'd prepared.
"Before we dropped here, the professor told us to make use of everything we could."
I stepped aside to show off our now-properly equipped makeshift camp.
"I just made use of an abandoned house I found."
"There was an abandoned house in a place like this?"
"As you can see."
The instructor fiddled with his watch. His face was one of utter bewilderment. He was probably checking regulations and consulting his superiors, but even if he did, there'd be no real issue.
Now of all times?
We'd been told to use anything and everything, and I had. If anyone quibbled, Lara and I had luckily stumbled on a cabin hidden under camouflage netting. It was stocked with basic supplies, magic tools, and all sorts of odds and ends. We'd hunted the beast chasing Lara Steelhiden for food, and borrowed the power of the water spirit for drinking water.
It all boiled down to me luckily finding an 'abandoned camp,' Lara Steelhiden's contracted spirit happening to be a 'water spirit,' and the camp luckily having all sorts of 'living supplies.'
Whatever the case, in the end, the lucky ones come out on top.
Those with bad luck who couldn't find decent shelter got eliminated and reverse-summoned, while guys like me who luckily found good spots probably lasted longer.
Still, no one had probably trained as safely as we did. Even with shelter for the night, securing food and water was a whole other problem.
"So, what brings you here?"
The instructor hesitated for a moment, choosing his words. Then he suddenly clapped his hands together and started applauding.
"Congratulations. Sion Illeionhart and Lara Steelhiden. You've survived to the end of this training and demonstrated stable living conditions, so you've been ranked 2nd place."
He kept clapping, which caught me off guard.
"…2nd place?"
Then who was 1st?
"1st place goes to Kyle Ivanstair, Elin Beonard, and Essili Silvergaden."
"Kyle?"
"Yes."
After finishing the water, the instructor's explanation was straightforward.
First off, the team that survived the longest was indeed Lara Steelhiden and me. Pure survival score-wise, we'd be 1st.
That's why the instructors combed every inch of Nilbania Mountain looking for the last cadets. Our camp was hidden under camouflage netting, so they found us late.
But this wasn't just simple survival— it was extreme cold survival training. It's not only about who lasts longest; the process matters too.
I survived the most stably, but that's only looking at the results. The process got somewhat skipped because we found a ready-made camp with survival basics.
"Kyle Ivanstair and Elin Beonard encountered a Giant Wrecker."
"…Pardon?"
"The training should've ended right then, but… well, they turned the tables and took it down, so it continued."
Kyle Ivanstair had run into the ape-like beast I'd worried about—a Giant Wrecker—and somehow turned it around and killed it. That earned big points. Afterward, his group wandered the snowfields sustaining themselves… until hypothermia knocked them all out.
And the last team standing was Lara Steelhiden and me. We were just carrying on daily life in our lucky find of a camp, and it was obvious we'd last over two weeks without intervention, so they ended the training early.
In short, we had the higher score on judgment, but in terms of performance, Kyle's group outshone us.
Perfect.
"So…"
"Training ends here. Good work, both of you."
As the instructor congratulated us, I glanced at Lara Steelhiden, who cradled Elphin in her arms. She didn't reply, but her face looked somehow regretful. Had she grown attached to this camp in our short time here?
"Training's over, so reverse summoning starts now. Please double-check you haven't left anything behind."
"I… haven't."
"…Then wait a moment."
Lara Steelhiden gave me a puzzled look at my response.
This camp had more useful magic tools than expected. But we couldn't take everything. Subspace would burst, and some wouldn't fit in the backpack. Plus, our story was that we'd stumbled on an abandoned camp, so there was a twinge of guilt toward the original owner (me).
…Except for the one I'd discarded here myself long ago.
The artifact I'd discarded here with Camille back then. I couldn't use it at the time, but now there was no reason not to take it.
A bit of time had passed since the extreme cold survival training ended. With the weekend finally here, I planned to focus on reorganization for a while.
"First, future plans, stat training, home training schedule…"
…Not this.
I tore off one side of the notebook, propped my chin, and pondered deeply.
Participating in main quests to gain stats was good, but as I said before, clearing main quests paradoxically required personal strength. These quests I'd cleared through freakish luck and talent reliance were like gambles. Who knew how long that luck would hold.
One thing was certain: if the flow I'd ridden so far—powered by talents and traits—broke down, I'd be done for with high probability.
We were entering the mid-act now, and the enemies ahead were leagues beyond what I'd faced before.
Take the Gluttony demon 'Onin de Chantus' from before—he'd lost his reason, so I could exploit gaps.
"…If he'd been in his right mind."
Thinking back made me break out in chills.
If Onin had been sane, he wouldn't have rampaged stupidly and lost an arm, nor waited patiently for me to gather mana. Especially since he had a title—those guys usually have unique abilities unlike regular demons.
Onin de Chantus had the [Gluttony] title. Comparing to other demons in the original story, he probably devoured foes to absorb their power and abilities.
Lucky I killed him before he could use Gluttony's power properly; one slip, and Rebecca and I would've been the ones hunted.
In that sense, last time's demon hunt was pretty lucky. Rebecca joining seamlessly, close-range sniping—everything went smooth.
The demons ahead wouldn't be mindless like Onin, so from now on, more caution and strategy were needed.
"First things first… talent."
The top priority was honing my talent.
To survive this brutal Arsen, you needed strength, great potential, or a standout talent. I fell into the last category.
I had the Unique talent [Sharp Shooter]. That's why I chose the sniper path and cleared main quests without much issue.
I stroked my chin while opening my status window.
"…Clearing main quests does give talent experience, but."
It's borderline gambling, and as mentioned, no telling how long it'll work.
No need to look far—just take Iri. She's grinding daily in the training hall.
For me, the shooting range over the training hall, but to raise minor stats like strength and see the main characters' faces, the training hall made sense.
"More reliably, it's hunting."
Second, real combat activities.
Real-world sense, experience, and money—who wouldn't if they had the power?
Arsen even set up a request board to encourage cadets' fieldwork. With act 1 mid-stage, it'd open soon.
"Wait, speaking of which."
I already had a commitment.
During the mock dungeon, I dumped party leadership on Iri and promised to join her requests.
Once the board opens, she'll contact me first, and I'll have to join whatever subjugation she's in.
…Putting that aside.
"Third, future plans."
From mid-act 1 to late, and beyond. I sketched a rough roadmap.
I marked key event spots with small symbols and underlined some parts.
These were derailed events—either vanished or twisted by main story changes.
First, Serin Anette and Kyle Ivanstair's Manito episodes. That premise broke when Serin became my Manito… er, my Manito.
Conversely, I became Iri's Manito. Annoying with others, but this racks up points passively since I tagged along on her main quests.
Not intended, but it worked out.
Extras like Rebecca vs. Kyle rivalry, Essili Silvergaden vs. Kai Alma, and side stories for protagonist allies remained.
"…These can wait. Pass."
I added a few more underlines, then closed the notebook and stored it in my subspace for easy access.
Finally, I swept the guesthouse room and tidied the furniture. Busy lately, poor sleep—cleaning had piled up.
"……."
I hung the broom in the corner. The room looked pretty clean now.
More time left than expected, so maybe hit the training hall. But going out now felt too sluggish.
Truth is, reorganization covers a lot. Not just material resources.
Strictly, stamina management counts too. Eating well, sleeping right, staying healthy—that's reorganization.
Managing fatigue is reorganization by that logic.
Rationalizing thus, I flopped onto the bed. Right on cue, my watch buzzed.
Of course I remembered.
I fired off a quick emoticon reply and opened the door.
…As the old saying goes, sleep is for the dead.
Proper rest was proving elusive.
This time, though, it was my own karma.