19. Scouting Mission

Adolin woke up drenched.

Groaning, he chuckled.

“Not gone, huh,” he muttered.

The nightmares were back. The few days he had spent in this world had felt like a treat. He hadn’t even wanted to think about them, afraid he might jinx it. It turned out it had just been a few lucky days. Without the nightmares that tormented him. It was ironic. The day his village was massacred was the day they began. And the first nightmare in this new world was the village.

At least he saw his mentor again. Well, not really. He heard his voice, felt his grip. It was enough. It brought back the good memories. He lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him. It was still dark outside. He hadn’t slept long. But there was no chance he would fall asleep again after that. He stood and shook off the nightmare.

Taking a whiff, he frowned. He really needed to start showering more regularly. Walking downstairs, the innkeeper was still there, sitting behind a table, his eyes half-closed.

“Hey,” Adolin called out.

The innkeeper looked at him.

“You wouldn’t have soap?”

He pointed toward a door next to the stairs. Adolin opened it and went inside.

It was a small room, more like storage than anything else. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with old buckets, cracked basins, and worn-out cloth. A few bars of soap sat in a wooden box, covered in dust. He picked up a bar of soap. Dust burst into the air. He coughed, turning his head away.

Outside, the innkeeper was already awake, holding a towel.

“How much?” Adolin asked.

“Nothing,” the man smiled. “Thanks for the potions.”

Adolin just nodded and took the cloth from him.

“Is my party in the inn?”

“Yes. Same floor. Last door on the left.”

Adolin nodded and walked around the inn. Behind it stood a small structure. Calling it a building was generous. It was more of a shed. He stepped inside. A bucket of murky water sat in the corner. He picked it up and poured it out, then returned. He cast Fill, a basic water spell, then Warmth, heating it. He took a long shower, even washing his clothes. When he was done, he hung them on a rack, placing the soap beside them. He cast Small Wind and Warmth together. The wind and heat dried both the clothes and the soap.

He sat on the bed in his room, Blaise was sleeping on the bed next to him. Snoring. Loudly at that.

Adolin ignored him and packed his backpack. He added the soap, covered with a towel. It felt nice having a soap he could use anytime he wanted. He packed three soaps before joining the hero’s party, but at the end he spent a half a year without a shower. Something he didn’t plan on repeating ever again.

“Status,” he muttered.

[New Skill Detected: Eavesdrop.]
[Skill Tier: 4]
[Attribute Points Available: 5]

[New Skill Detected: Growth.]
[Level Increased.]
[Skill Tier: 5]

[New Skill Detected: Burden Transfer.]
[Skill Tier: 7]

[New Skill Detected: Fill.]
[Skill Tier: 2]

[New Skill Detected: Small Wind.]
[Skill Tier: 2]

[New Skill Detected: Warmth.]
[Skill Tier: 6]
[Level Increased.]
[Attribute Points Available: 7]

He went over the new spells he had cast. They had only gotten him two levels. It was already getting harder. It didn’t bother him. From what he understood, levels didn’t come from spells alone. Life experience. Learning. Training.

Dareth either hadn’t done much with his life, or the system had reset when he took over the body. But from the memories, that didn’t seem right. If that were the case, he should’ve started at least at level ten. Maybe higher. That left one option. The system had reset.

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That was his understanding so far. From the people he had met. Lira already had a class. The others in his party too. And they weren’t older than Dareth. But they had trained. In the academy, or with tutors before even entering it.

Probably more than that. Lira’s mother was a professor at the academy. She had likely been tutoring her since she was young. The others were nobles. He was certain they had received even more training than Lira. Then there was Blaise. He had no idea about him. The boy talked too much when he was nervous, and it got annoying fast. Still, he could guess he came from a powerful family. Or at least had someone to train him from a young age.

[Status:]
Name: Dareth Wood
Race: Human
Mana: 127/220
Level: 17
Class: /

[Attributes:]
Strength: 18
Agility: 19
Endurance: 20
Intelligence: 22
Constitution: 18
Attribute Points Available: 7

He stared at the attribute points for a few seconds, then put all of them into Intelligence. He decided to dump everything into that stat. At least until he was close to his former power. Or stronger.

The other stats would rise on their own. At least until he chose a class. After that… he had no idea.

Another thing he noticed over the past few days—people in this world were far stronger than in his previous one. The wounded he healed should have died from the injuries. Most of them. But here, they would recover on their own. The spark was what told him they would pull through. Without it, he would have thought most of them would be dead by morning.

He glanced at his stats again.

Mana: 127/290
Intelligence: 29