Chapter 62 (2/2)

At times like these, perhaps a gift would help smooth things over…?

To his surprise, Lyra’s puzzled frown turned into a vicious glare. Ripping her arm away, she spat on his bare feet. “Do you think I want a fucking blessing from you? Is that what you want? Another subordinate?”

She turned and walked away, head held high. As she passed the gate around his cabin, she called over her shoulder. “Just to clarify, I won’t be coming south with you.”

Randidly scratched his head as he watched her go.

But there were more things to focus on. In an attempt to distract himself, he brought up his Path menu.

Watcher: 0/??, ?????, Heretic III 0/???, Oathbreaker 0/25, Apprentice Path 0/50

His options had decreased, but he already had made a decision. It was time to head down the Apprentice Path. More skills meant faster gathering PP, which was his way of gaining strength.

Finally, Randidly turned to the final item on his agenda, and removed a small seed from his pocket. He had created another soul seed after the cooldown wore off, and had been nurturing it these past two weeks.

Soul Seed 100% Nurtured. Strongest Influences: 1. Fireball; 2. Meditation; 3. Potion Making; 4. Refine; 5. Calculated Blow. 6. Root Manipulation

The influences were a bit… strange, especially for a plant. Let alone Fireball, how could a plant use Meditation, Potion Making, Refine, and Calculated Blow…? It was because all he had done was focus on discovering potion recipes and mopping up random creeps in the area with Thorn.

Ultimately, he was also very pissed off that he hadn’t been able to make any headway on Mana Manipulation. Even after Randidly stopped meeting with Lyra, still he practiced, struggling to find ways to make it work. Unfortunately, reality wasn’t kind; it seemed that his thoughts so much earlier in regards to the way he viewed the system shaping his abilities were true.

He could perform skills, and he had different  pools of resources to fund those skills. But he wasn’t able to control those pools directly.

Perhaps what Randidly needed was a skill to make these things manifest. Like whatever strange skill Lyra refused to name, that allowed her to see mana. She seemed to think that was a pointless step, and maybe it was, for her, the strange combination of frustration and inexplicable talent that she was, but Randidly needed to see it, he figured, to get a handle on using it.

Thinking about Lyra made Randidly oddly morose, and he turned and gazed at the bear sized hole in the fence around his house, that Randidly had quietly requested remain there, marring his wall. It had been strangely lonely, as most everyone stayed out of his way, allowing him to train constantly.

The stress had sapped the last tiny bit of effectiveness from an already almost useless few weeks, and Randidly wanted to keep this, as a reminder. Of what, he currently wasn’t sure, because Lyra and her lessons and her feelings for him were all jumbled up into a ball that Randidly wasn’t sure he even wanted to touch.

But he knew he didn’t want to be left alone to slowly wind himself up in his house, until he snapped. For that, Randidly knew he valued Lyra. She attacked him verbally , which was reassuring, in a way. The rest of the town basically took everything he said as law, and showered him with veneration and compliments.

Other people might like that attention, but to Randidly, it just came off as creepy.

The abuse, while perhaps offensive to some, grounded Randidly, by putting him in a situation that he understood, and was used too. When the three of them, Sydney, Ace, and himself, had hung out, they weren’t being. They were vulgar and caustic, constantly engaged in a cold war of banter and and ploys.

Ace and Sydney…

Randidly’s gaze turned South. Which was why he had to go, no matter how strangely Lyra was acting. And why he refused to think any more deeply on his own feelings, no matter how lovely she was when she smiled. Randidly clenched his fists, and looked down, having forgotten he was still holding the small, strangely nurtured seed.

Still, he supposed, looking at the tiny seed in his hand, it would work out somehow. Even if he wasn’t around to see it.

As Randidly walked out to the slope between the NCC village and the Classer compound up on the hill, he was surprised to find two small children crawling through the fields, picking weeds. He recognized them too; Nathan and Kiersty. They were twins, and the youngest members of Donnyton, at 8.

The system hadn’t been kind to children. Although from what Regina had said, it was less that they were killed, and more that the parents of these surviving children weren’t willing to travel with their kids, and turtled up in their homes.

Ultimately foolish, but Randidly supposed he could understand the sentiment.

Struck by a sudden notion, Randidly walked over to the children. When they saw him approach, the two straightened uncertainly. The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve. Randidly crouched before them.

“I need a favor.”