But for a Slime

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen

A young child stared up into Joe's eyes, held against his chest as he looked down. He was a stranger, whoever the child was, and Joe found himself feeling a bit confused who he was looking at. The confusion faded to nothing, moving to simple acceptance as is the way of dreams, and he stared back without thought, feeling, or wonder. Warmth spread across his left arm which was held across the upper chest of the young boy and he accepted it as normal, still staring at the lively eyes, somehow growing more innocent and naïve as he stared down.

He didn't wonder or ask why the boy was pressed against his chest, nor why the moment was occurring. It simply was. The boy's face suddenly grew paler, but he wasn't afraid or angry. If anything, the naïve innocence slowly shifted to blame and bitter betrayal. Joe's felt his eyebrows crunch in confusion as he stared down, noticing nothing, until suddenly the front of the boy's body came into stark focus, brilliant red cascading down from the boys neck and covering his entire torso. His left arm suddenly grew scalding hot, blood crawling across it like a living creature, sliding down from the boy's neck and to the ground as liquid does. However, the blood on his left arm crawled at his elbow and began climbing his arm.

An itch or a pinch on his right snapped his attention to it and he saw a massive blade covered in red blood, his arm flamboyantly held out to the right, wide. The blood on the blade had begun to writhe, sliding up from the blade towards his hand and biting its way up to his wrist. The thin layer of blood on the blade seemed impossibly dense, pouring out ever more and more blood as it crawled up his arm towards his elbow.

Realization came slowly, inexorably, even as he fought against everything with him. His face turned back towards the boy, even as he fought to look back with everything he had. His resistance was futile, and soon he was looking down upon a face he easily recognized, a look of betrayal and hurt a parody twisting the boy's face beyond human normalcy but so poignant that Joe didn't notice the inhuman gaze. Horror sprouted and he reacted, leaping backwards and away, but no change occurred. The boy looked up at him, the blood gushing from him in volumes too great for any human, let alone a young boy. His hurt and betrayal grew, even as he grew paler. The blood scrawling up his arms reached his chest and merged with the blood pouring from the boy's neck, leaping up towards his neck now in horrific twisted movements echoing something human but more terrifying. The blood took on shapes, becoming anthropomorphized, wild beasts, snarling creatures, or demonic things; human in body shape only even as faces and heads took on horrific aspects.

The crawled up, reaching higher and higher, but always in view despite how high they climbed. Horror and fear spiked even as the blood creatures hit his neck. His eyes locked on the boy, life fading from him, yet somehow still seeing the blood demons writhing up his neck towards his face.

Suddenly, Joe woke with a start, horror and pain slicing through him even as he shuddered in terror of the remembered young kid's face. The dream faded, but reality proved worse as his memory returned with full clarity and he saw the boy looking up just after he'd sliced the carotid in his neck. A look of pain and disbelief grew before the kid collapsed in his arms, life fading from him.

The dark night surrounded him, the brilliant glow from the gas giant on the horizon the only light outside, but offering little comfort as the memory twisted through his thoughts and refused to uproot. He shuddered in his bed, clinging to his effort at sanity even as he turned to curl up into a small very uncomfortable ball on the hard dirt floor. It took a long, very long, time to fall asleep again.

* * *

Joe woke the next morning with a slow stirring, a yawn, and an itch behind his right knee. He blinked and absentmindedly slid a hand down his leg even as he lifted the leg up. As soon as he lifted the leg, he knew something was wrong. Why is my leg so… Joe froze then quickly scratched his thigh just above his leg stump while opening his eyes and then seeing the healer standing and staring at him intently. Shoot! What do I do? How am I going to… the plan! I'm still insane… so.. this is my office… and… he's not supposed to be here? Or.. no… a messenger or something? Yeah…

He immediately turned from his bed and dropped his two stumps on the floor, looking at the healer, "What's the boss want now? I'm still in the middle of my prototype! Go do what you gotta do if you think you need to do something. I'm too busy to deal with you."

Joe ended the tirade with a tired wave of his hand and completely ignored the man as he scrabbled across the dirt floor, hiding his little painful scrapes from stones and sticks before scrambling up into his rickety chair and staring down at his desk. OK? Now… I should build… something weird, right? That should…

Joe reached over and grabbed some sticks and string before bending over to focus on his 'work' as he tied sticks, stones, and strings together, "Off you go! I'm too busy and you add nothing to this!"

Joe worked diligently then sighed with some relief and relaxed, remaining bent over the desk but doing nothing with the products he was building as he turned his thoughts to other things. He didn't have long since the healer had left at a sprint and that usually meant the slave master was returning soon as well. Joe wasn't sure of the reason, remembering only a few times where the slave master had acted in this way while he was insane, but he had trouble remembering exact details, most of what he knew hidden behind a haze of events that were disconnected and lacked any real connection in time and therefore lacked any meaningful cause and effect for events that occurred over longer periods. Still, he recognized this and remained at his desk doing his insane job.

His patience was rewarded as only a few moments later, the heavy stomping of feet returned and quickly grew louder. Going to be here soo… and here he is. Joe struggled to hide his bitter rage even as he quickly swapped to the insanity job. Keep it at the surface… not too deep! The laboratory leapt into existence but then was buried beneath his rejection of it, maintaining reality and the dirt floor, raggedy chair and desk, and poor mess of cloaks as a bed. Joe looked up and put on his ingratiating smile he remembered he always did when the 'boss' showed up, allowing just the tiny bit of insanity to slide in and settle him in the moment. He dug deep and decided to go for a repeat of a recent event with only a slight modification, adlibbing as needed since he knew the 'boss' couldn't know what he was speaking about but duplicating the bodily movements faithfully adding minor differences.

"Boss! Good to see you. What can I do for you? I already got the one prototype done… so I think I've proved my worth and all you gotta do is…"

Joe rambled on for some time, ingratiating himself to the man while praising his genius and results, pretty much even copying the same lines from a recent memory knowing the man wouldn't even understand him. Doesn't matter… just play the part! Hope it… hope it's enough! Another minute or so of this, and the man grunted and turned, leaving the tent and returning to his day. Joe sighed in relief but continued the charade by offering his good byes and thanks for the funding. When the footsteps had faded away, Joe turned back to his desk, ready to offer the mummer's play to their perceptions as his hands fiddled with sticks and strings but turned his thoughts to his real work. It was with relief that Joe slammed down on the cancel, ejecting himself from the insanity job, shivering with some shock. Hard… that was hard… A few moments later, his breathing calmed even as he still dropped pebbles and sticks on his desk. OK… that… done… now quick change of jobs, swap commoner out for something better… good. Now, I need to get out of here! Or… just get this collar off… one of the two! So… let's try number one? Just get out of here and deal with the collar later. Decision made, Joe fumbled with bits of string and turned his thoughts to planning his day. Not enough time to start right now… I'll head out after the morning roll call.

About ten minutes later, Joe heard the call to muster and took a moment to remember his plan for getting through the roll call, replaying how he'd acted over the couple dozen times he could accurately remember before heading out into the mustering yard. This… sucks. He flipped on his insanity job again and leaned a bit into it, but grasped just at the edge of control. It was much harder than Joe had thought.

* * *

Ilyelanralo had already seen the mad eccentric just a few moments before, and while he'd felt some relief at seeing the man no longer catatonic, there had been a subtle difference about the eccentric. Caution and fear twisted through him and he worried at accomplishing the task of breaking the eccentric. Despite the subtle differences he noticed but couldn't quite place a finger too, his relief was paramount. The man was still a viable product. That relief only solidified when he saw the eccentric grumbling and tumbling out of his tent to fall into muster. Ilyelanralo, of course, did not focus on the one man, it was utterly unprofessional. He had hundreds of fellow men and women he had to dedicate his time to, so he maintained his impeccable standing, as always, but still found himself focusing a bit more on the eccentric than he normally would, convincing himself that recent stresses necessitated careful and cautious inspection of the man, at least for the next few days.

The muster went well, according to the 'new normal' that had been set with the thunderous introduction of the eccentric, but Ilyelanralo found a peace and relief in it and did as he always did: remained aloof above the chattel as a master always should. He surveyed all the men and women he owned or was entrusted with as they scattered to return to their next events, training, and breakings as expected with the single exception of the eccentric who dragged himself off alone as he almost always did: either to his tent or to begin scrounging through detritus in and around the camp.

Today, the eccentric chose his tent and Ilyelanralo watched on with cautiously optimistic, if slightly bitter, eyes as the eccentric returned to his routine. Two months and still unbroken. But, what was there to expect from an eccentric! Ilyelanralo allowed a bit of excitement thrill through him as he turned his thoughts towards training and creating the best product possible with such excellent materials. An eccentric! Hahaha! None of my colleagues will have such as this! A small smile turned the corners of his lips up, barely noticeable.

* * *

Joe immediately smashed the no button as soon as the muster ended, sweat rolling down his body as he'd found the effort to allow his insanity to 'run things' while maintaining focus was almost impossible. It got so much harder the longer it took. The job wanted him to focus on hitting the yes button or get approval for the project which meant pulling the 'rail gun' out and working on it then and there. The effort to keep control had left him exhausted as he dragged himself across the ground.

While walking back, he occasionally was able to pull off a 'walk on his hands' type of move which was quite difficult simply because his thighs tended to pull his balance all off when he bent them forward and up, it ended up bending his whole torso forward slightly due to the weight. Still, he was getting a bit better about 'walking' on his hands than simply dragging his body behind him on the ground. He'd learned to ignore the sharps spikes of pain from twigs, stones, and hard bumps in the soil that punished the palms of his hands. At the very least, the effort of 'walking' on his hands and the pain spiking up the palms of his hands distracted him enough from the fear that coiled through his thoughts because of the insanity job and he was soon able to put it behind him.

Scrambling into the tent, he made sure to toss the curtain of his tent open such that he had an oblique angle upon the mustering yard and could watch the slave master. The man had a tendency to stand and 'royally look over all he ruled' while the muster disbanded. The slave master would sometimes spend almost a half an hour regally looking at his workers and the training slaves before returning to his small two story home.

Today proved relieving as the man turned and left after only ten minutes and Joe then turned his thoughts to the day instead of play acting for the slave master who'd been watching on. So… first… try to get out of here! Joe took a look around his tent and firmed his resolve before heading out. As he went, thoughts danced as he considered options, not wishing to give himself away. He made plans for if the barrier would stop him or not, worried that his insanity was what allowed him to step beyond the bounds of the camp. He'd noticed and remembered the impossible attempts of others to escape the barriers, although the memories in his insanity were somehow from the perspective of watching prisoners attempting escape. That made no sense now that he was sane and not trapped within the illusion of insanity that bore down on his conscious, but somehow his own mind created the explanation that made the experience acceptable. Still, caution was warranted and he prepared himself for reaching the barrier that would lock him within the camp.

So… first off, brush by it but keep up the pretense of looking for materials. Joe thought of the perfect place, a small strip of land that came into the marked boundary of the camp that was relatively unused. It was a portion of an open meadow that came within the boundaries and would allow him to search for materials in a way that would reinforce his insanity image but put him close to where he could try to escape the camp barrier.

Joe came out of his tent and began mumbling under his breath while carefully scouring the ground before him. He started off with sentences and phrases but the unusual nature of mumbling insanely grew beyond his capability and he began to simply spout random words. All English anyway… nobody will understand what I'm saying. He practiced moving on his arms, body dangling between them while he pulled his thighs hard up against his chest. As he hand-walked across towards the field, he came to a pause, an idea coming to him which silenced him and when he realized that, quickly began mumbling under his breath again. Man… I hope this doesn't become a habit I can't break… that would suck so much! Anyway… what about building a couple pegs… I'll be able to walk… maybe, although standing up with two peg legs… that's going to be hard.

Joe pondered the idea as he walked to his target area before dismissing it for later when he arrived. He then began scouring the ground, walking back and forth across the field to find and pick up useless twigs and stones. After a few moments, he came upon the barrier and turned parallel to it before continuing his search. He aimed his direction to come across the barrier at an oblique angle which would allow him to test the crossing hopefully without making it obvious if he failed.

Coming upon a small twig right against the boundary of the camp, he leaned over to grasp the twig while sticking a thigh stump out across the edge of the camp. Time to see if I can get out of here! His stump hit the edge of the boundary and he found himself unable to take any step past it. He felt nothing. There was nothing there. He was simply unable to cause his leg to move past the boundary. Leaving the leg there, he bent over for another stick and continued trying to push his leg across it, but his leg refused to move.

Unwilling to stay there longer to cause suspicion, he took a couple steps forward and aimed for another excellent candidate for his collection that was close to the barrier. This time, he was close enough that he could try to push his hand across but it also stopped oddly right at the border without any way to get his arm across. He quickly pulled his arm back to his side to hide the fact that the boundary was limiting him. Joe spent the next ten or twenty minutes struggling to find a way passed the boundary but was unable to.

Despite the image he was portraying, gibbering fear writhed through him as he realized he was trapped. He could not leave at all, no matter how he tried. His body rebelled against any attempt to exit the camp, his thoughts becoming more and more disordered and terrified even as his desire to escape and flee swelled in his thoughts. Finally, his fear bordered on uncontrollable and he'd exhausted what efforts he could think of without being too obvious. Fear gibbered maniacally through his mind, but he controlled himself and returned to his tent, grumbling under his breath, maintaining his act of insanity.

He spent about another ten minutes in his tent fiddling with worthless constructions, accomplishing nothing but that proved a boon as it only reinforced his insanity and gave him the time to slowly calm, the pebbles, string, and sticks slowly distracting and calming him. Calm came and the detritus fell from his hand as he sighed in some relief, not at a resolution but simply at controlling himself, before suddenly picking up the scraps and playing with them again when he realized he'd stopped. He did this for a time, now bored and at a loss. What can I do? This… Fear began to swell again, but he quashed it with thoughts of firm belief in a hopeful future and he turned to productivity. So, what … what can I do? He finally ripped from hopeless and meaningless action and hopped off his wobbling chair. Do something actually useful… So, uh… Well. Oh! Maybe something for my feet. Don't think I should make a peg. Would be too tall to easily stand up on, but maybe a small platform… just a couple inches but padded to rest my stump against… a cradle so most the weight is on my thigh and not my stump? Joe spend some time considering it, actually returning to absent mindedly playing with the sticks and stones again before finally turning to look at the pile of wood and detritus in the corner of his room.

He looked through it but found nothing useful before turning to his inventory after swapping to it but also found it rather empty. Gonna need a bigger branch… or a small tree trunk. That could work. Joe nodded to himself then hobbled out of the tent into the meadow, crossing the boundary of the camp. This… is gonna kinda suck… need a pretty big branch but don't really want to show people what I have, so how am I gonna… Go a bit into the woods? Far enough to be out of sight for a bit then I can come back to work on it in the tent… don't want to be gone too long, a bit suspicious if I do that.

Joe continued to run his thoughts through plans and ideas as he headed into the woods a short distance before glancing around and finding the area empty and out of line of sight. Joe grinned and pulled out his axe before glancing around carefully. Nobody's here. I can… wait, no. Shouldn't take to long… lotta noise is going to attract attention. Hmm… so… find the one branch and then take it down in one hit.

Joe slipped the axe back into inventory before he turned to look around carefully. A few moments later, he found what he wanted and lined up to cut down the branch. He then turned his thoughts inwards towards his mana producing organ and concentrated. So… mana out to my arm and … no, let's make it the whole body. Don't want to wrench my back out or something… so strengthen my body… I want to take out that branch with a single swing. Joe focused on what he wanted, making sure to visualize it perfectly. It took a while, nothing changing for the whole time, until suddenly mana suddenly swelled from inside his body and flooded him. It swelled strongest through his core and down into his legs, or, at least his thighs, with a small up swell swarming into his head but not near the amount he was used to when he went all out into combat. He wanted to take a moment to consider it, but felt the pressure of time and set that aside for later. His axe came up and swung down, a massive rapid swing that came so fast that Joe blinked in shock to find the axe already down at his side, slicing through the branch so forcefully and quickly Joe didn't even feel it.

Joe blinked in shock. Fast! Way too fast! How was I… Realization flooded through him and he quickly understood what had happened. Strengthened my body… didn't do anything for my brain… so no perception changes… ok. That's cool! Joe considered it for a bit, shifting his body and moving his body while the mana swelled through him, enjoying his hyper speed and strength.

He didn't allow himself long, and quickly cut his enjoyment short, slipping axe and branch into inventory. Gotta get back before people wonder where I am. Out of sight… people are going to feel pretty … Joe paused, wonder and shock running through him. I'm out of the camp! Ho… what happened?! Joe froze. He stared around and found absolutely no one watching him, and a grin quickly formed on his face. Ha! I … let's get out of here and get to…

His mind froze, and he blinked in shock when he felt his body began to turn, facing the camp and robotically pulling itself across the ground towards the camp. Joe found his mind roiling with shock and bitter anger as he recognized and remembered the feeling. He quickly ended his thoughts on trying to leave the camp, focusing on returning, and control immediately came back to him. He collapsed the forest floor, huffing with relief.

He couldn't rest long, a need to return swelling up within him once again, and he stood quickly. Right. Got what I needed. I should head back. Joe's thoughts were artificial, but pushed to the forefront of his mind and even as he did so, the pressure to return vanished to an itch in the back of his mind. Fear writhed and his inner thoughts swelled to the forefront for a bit, fearful gibbering chants of his need to escape and he immediately found himself robotically crawling back again. Joe quickly quashed his terrified thoughts again, crushing it down to a pinpoint and shoving it so far into the back of his mind he lost it in the dark recesses of nothingness. Right. Let's finishing carving a couple chunks with this branch… I'll need two, but make a couple to be safe?

The urge to return vanished again, retreating to an itch, monolithic but benign, in the back of his mind. Several quick glances around showed him still alone and he pulled out his ax and the branch he'd just cut and quickly chopped it into four or five small hand lengths before storing everything again. The work calmed him and he found himself relaxing, staring up at the sunlight pouring through the branches, dappled light wavering across the forest floor. He sighed.

After relaxing for a bit, he turned to testing. Over the next several minutes, he was able to test several more things before the urge to return grew too much. He quickly learned that the general rule of thumb was to not think about leaving or escaping. He could stay as long as he wished, and from what he could discover, go where he wished as long as he intended to return. The intention to return also had a time limit on it with the expectation that he return within a reasonable time. A … reasonable time… and a reasonable… reason? Hmm…

What a reasonable time was seemed to be open for interpretation. If he needed more time, he could plan for week or even longer trips, as long as the time was required to travel to and return to the camp. He couldn't, however, create a never ending itinerary nor did it seem that he could make up a reason to travel. There seemed to be a legitimacy that was required, although Joe wasn't quite sure how that was judged since he'd thought of something that would require a good month's time to travel and he excitedly began turning away with glee while planning to use the time to take a break and further his escape plans. For some reason, as soon as he thought of taking advantage of it for those reasons, the option was immediately removed. Somehow, in some way, the whole setup was worked such that he couldn't find a way to take advantage of it. As soon as he began to become excited about the option, it seemed to disappear.

After exploring his options and the effect, he found himself stumped and decided it was time to return, concerned for how long he'd been gone. And honestly, if I'm gong for that long… Joe shuddered to think of what would happen if he did leave for weeks or months only to return. What leniency he enjoyed now would likely vanish. I… gotta figure this out in one fell swoop! One and done. This … the slave master isn't going to let it slide. Joe grimaced, his thoughts one last time turning to escape before banishing it quickly for as soon as that thought entered his mind, his collar triggered, writhing in unpleasant rejection of what he was attempting and demanding his return. That… man… His thoughts seemed intimately tied to the collar such that any subtle twist or option to game the system somehow would get him caught by the collar. This new piece of information, revelatory as it was, did nothing to help him remain in the forest nor offer a meaningful path to escape. And he struggled to think about it now, as any action or thought not directed to returning were soundly rejected. Getting worse now… Joe removed any thought of flight as it seemed to be the primary cause for his collar to react, calming himself and putting his thoughts on hold. At least …the distant vague futures seem to be something the collar mostly ignores. Joe turned to future hopes and dreams, mostly vague ideas of possible avenues to freedom, but even those caused the collar to itch unhappily, if only as a dull burning rejection.

He began returning to the camp, quickly falling back into his insanity inspired drivel, but his mind raced with the implications of what he'd discovered even as his body and mind calmed at his desire to return. So… I can leave, if I plan to return… and want to return. Can go as far as I want for as long as I want, but if … something… not sure what, but something is off with it, then it shuts it down… who or whatever IT is or… yeah.

As he returned to the camp, he quickly noticed the mental agitation and physical lack of control also seemed to be a part of the effect that appeared to evaluate his departure from the camp. He noticed it but waited to poke at it until he'd gotten to his tent especially as it all immediately disappeared once he was back inside the camp perimeter. Once in the tent, his mind went back to previous events and compared them to today and quickly realized he'd never noticed the agitation he had just experienced. But… I never tried to stay out of the camp or tried to find an excuse to leave it…

Joe shivered at the implications and rested in his tent until he'd calmed down again before taking some time to work on his leg stumps at his desk. It took shredding another cloak and another hour or two, time slipping by in a time of genuine enjoyment at trying to create something, to build two small flat bottomed cup or bowl shaped structures that hugged the sides of his thigh and put the majority of his weight on his thighs and not the end of the stump. The shredded cloak came into play as padding within the bowl and around the edges as a poor sock to cover and protect his stumps and another longer strip to tie them to his thigh. A couple small hooks on the outside top of the bowl allowed the strips to hold the prosthetic in place. He had the strip wrap around his thigh holding the bowl in place then run up the outside of his thigh to be tied at his hips to another strip of ripped cloak working as a belt holding up the stumps to his thigh.

Testing showed it wasn't quite enough and he had to add another strip of ripped cloak to the inside of his thighs from the prosthetic to his waist which helped tie the inside of the prosthetic to his stump. It was cumbersome to wear, but the relief and mobility it offered was so wonderful that Joe found himself even smiling. Not the best… but I can at least move… and the pains pretty manageable now! So… next step… Joe looked out his tent towards the small rat dungeon before sighing and setting out.

OK. Get the next priest job done… Then get rid of the curse that drives me to take the insanity job. Donno who magic, obsession, and secrecy is but just go through them one at a time, I guess. At least I got knowledge… I think… gotta be Mimir, right? So… start at the top, I guess… Joe swapped his job to Othen faithful but as soon as he thought of the obsession, the desire to take the insanity job erupted and Joe sighed, taking it and then clicking the no button immediately. He'd already been forced to take the job another couple times today, and he was finding the drive to be frustrating. Still, it was manageable for now although Joe was deeply concerned about it ramping up. It seemed a lot worse, now, for some reason.

When Joe stepped from his tent, he bee-lined for the dungeon and pretty much ignored everyone around him. But, about half way across the field towards the dungeon, he noticed a couple shouts coming from the camp as well as the shuffling of feet behind him. He ignored it, but grew concerned as a couple of guards broke off to follow after him. Joe kept marching, confident in his insanity but primarily because he needed to be able to level his jobs, and without it, things could get bad. Kinda need the priest jobs! For the curse… Right… first ones first…

They didn't stop him, however, and he was able to stomp down the stairs into the depths of the dungeon before he sighed with some relief once again. Joe grit his teeth at the bottom of the stairs then began fighting. The rats were still pretty easy, but fighting with poor wooden prosthetics tied to his knees made the fight quite difficult, let alone just walking. Going to need to practice this a bit! Joe killed a good dozen rats before he noticed the guard standing on the stairs staring at him with some awe and no little fear.

Joe almost froze and stared at the man, but another rat leaping for him pulled him back to the fight and he fell into slaughtering the rats, taking a good four or five hours, unhappy to see his audience but knowing it was already too late to hide his prowess. Instead, he turned back to his insane mutterings punctuated by thrusts even into already dead rats. He kept an eye on the man but otherwise ignored him. The man left him to his efforts, staring with some awe for some time before growing bored, then fearful. Joe ignored it all although he kept a surreptitious eye out and felt concern grow.

By the end of the day, he'd raised Othen Faithful to level forty one, but found no joy in it. He marched up the stairs back out of the dungeon and had to stop when he arrived at the top to find another couple guards watching the entrance. He knew he couldn't notice, having to just move on, so he did so, but felt a cold sweat seep down the back of his neck as he alternated walking on his stumps and his hands. He made it to his tent and collapsed on the bed while looking out his tent entrance back at the guards cautiously. They were all gone, but felt concern rise strongly. He grit his teeth and settled back down on his bed for a few moments before dragging himself to his desk. Would never sit on my bed… always fiddling with something until dark… He settled there and half-heartedly played with sticks and string while his mind pondered the day. Going to be much harder than I thought… why are they watching me go into the dungeon! I'm… gonna have to slow it down? Maybe only once a week… even once a month! Joe grimaced at the idea, struggling to find a way around it, but quickly found himself stuck. There was little he could do and the feeling of being trapped only grew! But… no… not going to give it up!

* * *

The young witch of Coushar finally found all the required regents she needed, only three days had passed, but found that still rather terrifying. While no retaliation had yet been felt, the knowledge that the eccentric now knew of her and her curse clawed at the back of her thoughts and shredded any peace she felt. The regents had then taken most of another day but an unexpected delay at the herbalist had added another entire day to her itinerary. She'd cursed at herself that time, bitter to be delayed and angry at herself for not considering the current situation within the city that obviously would have affected her efforts.

When she'd arrived at her regular herbalist shop, she was shocked to find it both abandoned and looted. It took her most of the rest of that day to find another herbalist who had the materials she needed, most of the herbalists she'd found proving rather bare of anything as the city still roiled under the uncertainty of recent events. Little order had been restored, the clan having withdrawn into its clan walls and abandoning the city to its own devices. The inner city, following the example of the clan, had locked down its inner wall as well, keeping all out. The outer city had run wild with that, city guards uncaring to maintain order and hungry poor adding to the chaos of loosed and unruly bandits and gangs. Some semblance of order had returned in the long months that followed, but she cared little for it as she would not be staying long after releasing the curse.

Settled within her small hidden room where she practiced her rituals, the young witch wrapped herself in her work, preparing the regents and ritual well, then checking, double checking, and finally once more for the third time right before she began. The ritual required time, and while she was clean and diligent in maintaining her property, she never felt comfortable enacting rituals without caution. Magic was powerful and did as it was bid, but only fools would ignore the dangers of wild magic and so each time she returned to continue the ritual, she would double check her previous work before adding to it and continuing the work.

This work made it especially frustrating, requiring almost another day of preparation for the regents and one time even leaving the room for a time to give any life mana the chance to settle and calm. Ambient mana, wild and calm mana, both played their own roles in rituals and she was cautious and diligent in her efforts.

When the time had arrived, matching the previous efforts and moment of the curse, she stepped into her place within the ritual and called upon the mana around her, directing the calm ambient mana as poorly and best she could while the wild mana did as it was wont, but drawn to its place by the force of the ritual. The rushing of the wild mana would draw attention she truly did not want, but she felt no need to hide herself any more. She would not be staying.

The ritual flared, obfuscation rising up wildly even as release thundered out in a massive welling of power. She found herself remaining in her ritual a rather extreme amount of time, but when she felt her curse release, she sagged with relief and allowed the ritual to collapse, not even taking the time to settle the wild mana or seek out the calm mana. Time to go! Don't need to let the eccentric know… the obsession should be incredible by now… so many months of resisting. The witch didn't need to hide her awe for the man as the fear for the fact that he'd resisted so well for so long hammered home the danger she was in. If… maybe… no! Don't be a fool. She dismissed her desire to see the man for his strength and turned to her work.

Urgency drove her and panic allowed her to sacrifice many powerful and useful tools she'd accumulated. She had already packed and prepared to leave, so when the ritual returned success, she picked up her pack and left without even taking a look back. She only took the time to do two things: she prepared her disguise, marking her face with age to hide any beauty she had before layering clothing on her body in awkward and a form hiding fashion then she lit two small candles on a table smeared with oil and draped with oil soaked cloth that was strung throughout the home.

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She made it to the gate just as the sun rose before the fire in her once home drew in a desperate effort from the local people and neighbors to quell it. She didn't look back, fleeing with a steady march, following the only way out of the city.

* * *

Gwenvair shifted in her new home with her new sisters and found herself fidgeting. It had been so long since Joe had left, and she found his rising rage and anger concerning. She was still able to offer him peace and calm him, but it was now becoming a regular effort that while not onerous, was deeply concerning. He's… in so much pain… and struggling so hard! Her heart ached for him, concern etched deeply within. Kilniara settled into her side and wrapped an arm around her and Gwenvair felt tension release quickly before turning to her. The two smiled and Kilniara clapped a hand on her shoulder. Xylarnae had stood and was now also resting a soft hand on her shoulder. Kalia looked from her seat, a strange aloof smile watching on. Stephliquen, as always, remained lost in her own world, confused and unable to communicate. Without Joe, their ability to grow their levels proved almost impossible, and once again, Gwenvair was reminded of just how incredible Joe's growth was. She glanced between all of them, Kilniara bumping her to get her attention.

"You are doing well!"

"He hurts," Gwenvair dismissed the compliment even as she watched Kilniara's false smile fall.

"I know. But we can only do as we can."

Gwenvair felt her own smile return, genuine, "I know."

Kilniara stared for a time before smiling as well, both genuine and relieved. The two stared for a bit before laughing softly and rising, simply happy to be with someone who seemed to understand them.

Gwenvair turned back to her preparations, hands diligently, if with struggle, drawing the odd runes that represented sound that Joe had taught them. Sound… and numbers! It was so strange to see powerless runes stretching across pages, yet so powerful all the same, carrying meaning and sound across space and time. It was thrilling. A work of power without power and mana. Kilniara watched her for a time before sighing and returning to her own diligent handwriting.

Gwenvair smiled softly, "Don't give up. What he has shown us… it is a powerful gift."

"What gift! What use is it?"

Gwenvair's smile grew greater, "To pass knowledge across great time and space? To speak, even beyond the grave?"

"And what would I have to offer to those after my time?"

Gwenvair chuffed, a small laugh, "Trust me. It is amazing."

Kilniara sighed but kept diligently practicing her 'letters and numbers,' as Joe called them. Around them, the others had returned to their own efforts with Stephliquen actually proving the fastest learner, already rapidly forming words and sounds using the odd symbols Joe called letters although she seemed to make odd words that meant nothing. Her own language? So strange… two people with unique languages. Gwenvair allowed her mind to ponder the oddity for a time before returning to her own diligent effort.

The morning spent studying, she then moved out into the small village, now greatly changed as new buildings and homes rose, slowly and poorly. They had weak earth mages and their rock mages proved even poorer. Their temporary homes built from felled trees extended the bare meadow around the village further, but were sad replacements for mage built homes. But the village grew, and it grew quickly, more out of necessity than organically, but Gwenvair could see the charm and even the vision Joe seemed to naturally exude, despite what she could only see as his naivety. Still, there was a charm to this place and she would support him as best she could.

An hour or two of administration leading up to lunch soon had all four diligently returning to the stolen beginner's dungeon now resting off center of the village, new walls already surrounding and protecting against any future dungeon break. The fighting was useless, and returned very little for their efforts, but both she and Kilniara clung to it, a small action to reinforce a memory, and they left late afternoon, hot, sweaty, and still no change to their levels. But they would not give up. It will be ready for you Joe. I promise. Please... Gwenvair's firm certainty flickered, and fear and worry punched through, if only for a moment. Please come back…

* * *

Joe woke a few days later and found himself feeling a relief that was surprising. He took stock of his situation but couldn't find much that would account for his sudden relief. He checked once again but when he couldn't figure it out, put it to the side to play out his act, not wanting to give any chance to the slave master. Settling into his role as an insane individual, he crawled to the desk and began working on his latest project before continuing his day in the mustering yard. He was now able to swap to the insanity and allow it to 'make him insane' while still maintaining some form of control. It rather felt like it broke his brain, however, as two separate consciousness's seemed to take control. It was a really weird experience and actually left him a bit loopy when he escaped the insanity job and returned back to his tent after the mustering yard. Still, it was getting easier and allowed him to retreat into the job while in front of the slave master and only have to play at insanity the rest of the day.

The last several days had been a pain, the drive to seek out the insanity job growing and growing and he found himself needing to switch to it more and more each day. Sleeping through the night was an impossibility, the itch to change driving him to wake and change several times a night, now. Still, things seemed to be going well and Joe turned his thoughts to the day.

He hadn't gone into the dungeon since the first time, concerned by the number of guards that had been on him, but with how fast the itch was growing, he felt compelled to return to his leveling efforts. Going to take… too long! Even after pushing his Othen faithful to forty one, he still hadn't gotten the cure skill he needed. He would have to at least open up to the monk job at least of each faith, it seemed, as the cure curse skill didn't seem to appear until there. It might appear at forty in acolyte, but he had no example of that, all his acolyte jobs only being leveled up to thirty or thirty five. Two jobs each faith… gonna be kind of dangerous, so… And if he wanted to make it slow enough to not turn heads with his leveling speed.

Joe grit his teeth and fell into no small amount of worry. There already seemed to be three groups, that he knew of, that were after him and one of them looked like to be priests of some kind. Granted, the second group also seemed to have some priests as well, but appeared more militaristic, but still... Joe sighed and took some time to see his new skills in Othen Faithful before growing disappointed. He received five new skills, but one of them he already had and the other four had two which were just upgrades: intelligence +, awe +, intelligence ++, truth reading, and awe ++.

Both intelligence and awe were easy enough, simply adding a buff to both, although awe was interesting in that it gave him a presence or aura that made others look up to him or see him in some positive light. A cool affect, but really meaningless for where he was now. Well… maybe I could use it to buy and sell? Or something? But… still kind of annoying. The final skill, truth reading, was something he already had, so Othen Faithful was rather useless. But, it did allow him to set up for when he needed to clear out the curse.

Joe glanced over his current jobs, feeling no small amount of relief that all his jobs were various colors and there were no black jobs. Getting out from them had been a major pain, as each attempt had tainted the job he used to escape it and each following job used was tainted as well. It had been rather easy to escape with his Erudite title skill, but he could see how any attempt to change his job using another job would be quite difficult. Still, his jobs had remained rather static for without being able to dive any dungeons, Joe was left with what he'd always had, except for the various skills he was now diligently attempting to raise. Can start getting those up… at least.

The day passed rather quickly, and when he prepared to head out to dive into the dungeon once more, preparing the next priest job, Joe had an epiphany. I… what about the insanity job! No… He brought the job to memory, realizing that he'd not felt any need to change his job when he woke nor throughout the morning. Usually… He paused, thinking deeply and reaching for that place where the desire and itch to swap came from but found it empty. Joe's breath came to him a bit more sharply as the ramifications set in and a grin began to form on his face. He turned his full focus towards the insanity job, exploring it as deeply as he could, but felt no desire to change his job and quickly flipped to his curses page. A soft chuckle erupted from him as he found the page relatively empty but for the Enslaved curse that still blazed in red at the top.

He changed his plans, turning to running a scan and check of his curses for the spot directly below the old Enslaved curse and Joe found it blessedly empty. Relief had him collapsed against his rickety desk, and Joe rested in that relief for a time before turning to his logs and scrolling through it with meticulous effort until he found the entry at three in the morning. Your curse of Obsession has been removed. That was the only line but the relief Joe felt was immense and he decided that he could afford to take the rest of the day off, simply grateful that something had gone his way recently. Questions of why and how were quickly relegated to a future effort as Joe rapidly turned his dedication towards acquiring his freedom although they did eat at the back of his thoughts over the next few days.

Despite that, Joe put aside his concerns and worries and any plans for the rest of the day, only continuing his insanity for the sake of maintaining his limited freedom. Finding his hands idle, he turned to a hobby and considered his boredom. It only took him a few minutes before he chose a simple but meaningful hobby. If I gotta make something while being insane… might as well make it productively insane. That day, he carved out a really poor pawn. He tried another two or three times that day before heading to bed.

The next morning, a full night's sleep had him rising with relief and rest. He decided to take another day off after gracing the mustering yard with his presence. He chose two woods, one light and one dark, and began carving as he allowed his thoughts to wander. But, that night, he ended his vacation and turned his thoughts to what he could do for his efforts. He needed a new plan and a new direction, but he had no clue on how to go about freeing himself from the collar. He stayed up long and late that night before finally deciding he needed start scouting out the camp. And in the times he had going into the dungeon, he would pursue any slave related job, if there was such.

With that, he spent a good half an hour searching for any slave job and changing to it, but found nothing. Slave master, slave king, slave leader, slave trainer, and any other variation of slave something proved nothing. He even tried to go the other direction, seeking out slave saver, slave breaker, slave freer, and other such variations. It took him quite a bit of time until he finally found what he needed. Change job to slaver.

Joe grinned and immediately changed his job to Merchant, then waited expectantly for the blue box to pop up. When nothing did, he frowned and tried again with some frustration before popping up his status to poke around and figure it out. But when his status opened up in the metropolitan brown, it gave him pause and he turned to look at his job in curiosity. He flipped to his current job display then grinned when he already had his merchant job up to level ten. Joe's grin grew wider and then he laughed softly before closing all his windows and settled back. He wrestled with pursuing the merchant job immediately and pushing straight on into slaver, but he still remembered how the guards had followed after him and reacted. He weighed in cautiously before deciding to leave it for tomorrow. It's late… and I should keep the routine! Let's take a look around today and see what's up with the others… the guards. And now… I've got a bit of time, so… slow it down a bit…

Joe then decided to turn to his mana efforts, practicing all his magical skills including healing, pushing for ever greater and greater efficiency. He stayed up late before exhaustion sapped him of strength and he fell asleep in the middle of his efforts.

When he woke the next morning, he came to bleary eyed then growled in frustration when he realized he'd wasted a bit of the night. Still, he pulled himself too and got ready to shuffle to the desk when he heard muster called. Wait… really? Too early, isn't it? Or… Joe took a look outside and saw the sun on the horizon just about where it should be for roll call, but then grew frustrated. Wasted the morning, too!

Still, he prepped for his day, and spent the morning outside, instead, maintaining his 'working on something' persona while resting against a tree and keeping a watch around the whole camp and trying to learn as much as he could. He whittled as he watched people, occupying his hands with carving out another crude pawn. His whittling knife was a sharpened rock which worked unreasonably well because of his insane strength. Despite his efforts, his people watching proved wasted and he headed out after lunch into the dungeon.

Once again, a half a dozen guards followed after him, most stoic, but a few loud and complaining enough that Joe grew concerned. He couldn't really change his mind now, so pushed on, but reevaluated how often he could come, shifting to every two weeks or even only once a month. He grit his teeth at the limitations, but marched down into the dungeon and spent a good five or six hours, dedicated to getting slaver up. Merchant leveled to the necessary level incredibly quickly, the job leveling to twenty in only a couple kills, and Joe was able to put almost all the five or six hours into slaver. Slaver leveled up all the way to forty three before he called it a day and Joe returned home satisfied.

Less satisfactory was the guard that stayed on the stairs staring at him the whole day, nor were the four or five guards waiting at the top of the stairs that pleasant. Still, he eagerly scrabbled home on hands and prosthetic stumps before scuttling into the tent. He almost couldn't keep his eagerness under control as he flipped open his display to look at the job. The stats proved minor and honestly, he dismissed them rather quickly, seeking out the skills instead.

Flipping to the available skills page, he quickly looked over the skills and while many of them left a sour taste in his mouth but others gave him incredible hope. He had some interesting skills: enslave, know slave settings, free slave, modify slave settings, and hide slave deficits. His grin grew avid and he immediately enacted the free slave skill, grinning.

Joe's joy soured immediately even as he scowled in anger. He quickly fired off his other skills such as read slave settings and modify slave settings and hide slave deficits. All of them returned the exact same error, including the enslave skill as well except that one included another error about how the person he was seeking to enslave was already enslaved and owned by another. Joe ground his teeth in anger and finally decided to dismiss all of it and just drop the slavery job immediately. For a moment, his intellectual curiosity reared its head, demanding that he explore the skills and what they meant, but then his stomach turned, vile hatred over his current condition and just the general reality of slavery shredded any curiosity immediately and he shut down, shifting his main job to something else. Hatred welled, great and overwhelming as he rejected what was happening even as his slammed his status shut.

That had Joe heading to his poor bed where he collapsed upon it and lost himself in memories and struggled to clear his head. He remained there for about a half an hour before he turned back to his desk to maintain his image. While he did, he whittled away on his chess pieces but mainly focused on his mana skills. Night finally came and he went back to bed, waking in the middle of the night to practice again for another few hours.

The next day things were about the same, although he never went to the dungeon as he found no longer could find a reason that helped his escape and too concerned by how the guards had been acting. So, instead, he spent the day faking his insanity while whittling away at his chess pieces and working on his mana. He headed out during the day in the afternoon and chose a tree to lean against while he whittled. He found himself people watching, absent mindedly whittling, and devoting most of his attention to perfecting his mana skills. When the sun set, he went back to his room and collapsed on his bed. He flipped open his status then immediately closed it as revulsion welled overwhelming. His lips twisted in rictus rage and he turned away, his stomach clenching.

Weeks passed, and Joe couldn't return to his status, so sought out other avenues to occupy himself and Joe quickly began to notice that his physical capabilities were stagnating and he found himself really missing his workouts. So, he began planning a workout schedule which included time to work on his mana skills as well. So… guess the plan would be something like I did back at the inn in Cou… Joe's thoughts stuttered, coming to an end in jagged pain as he took a deep breath and struggled calmed himself. It took him a long time to finally calm himself, rejecting the desire to flee and forced himself to acknowledge all that had happened so far. I'm a slave… for now, but I will get free and I am working my plan… and that includes staying in shape! I can't run from this… His collar swelled, writhing a few tendrils before calming and resting again, but was quite adamant in displaying it's disapproval.

Joe wrestled with his emotions for a time, and then confronting them. His thoughts turned to how he'd rejected exploring the slaver skills and he turned back to them, thinking on them before forcing himself to return to understanding them. A deep sigh and forced calm settled upon him before he finally opened his eyes and allowed his thoughts to return to the slaver skills.

Help. What does enslave, know slave settings, free slave, modify slave settings, and hide slave deficits do?

Joe studied them, committed their effects to memory and even noted them in his notebook for completion sake, then dismissed it all as disgust welled up within him. His stomach roiled in unhappy twists and he needed another few moments to calm himself, seeking the peace of the amnesiac. He then ground his teeth and rejected the easy way out and explored the thoughts a bit more before he fully understood. This is reality… deal with reality… and then fix it when you can… Finally feeling like he could put the unpleasantness aside because he had done his due diligence, he moved on to what he'd originally set to do.

He hadn't opened his status in several weeks, and now finally felt a relief to be able to freely look once again, reconciling his rejection rather quickly. It wasn't a good way to do it, by any means, but Joe simply didn't look at his slaver job any more, cautious of even looking at any tabs that showed his jobs and when he did so, skipping past the metropolitan jobs rather quickly. It took him a bit more time to finally calm and not be so bothered by it, but Joe soon was able to look upon the slaver job with dispassionate eyes.

What he did notice, however, was that he'd missed quite a few new titles. Well… not titles… but the daos… whatever those are? A dao seed? Called a quark? Although… why? Joe thought on that for a bit then sighed and moved on. He had no one to ask for help right now in any case. So, he looked them over, finding seven new dao seeds, all of them quarks. He had a new quark of defense, quark of MP, quark of magic defense, quark of dexterity, quark of IQ, quark of speed, and quark of agility. Each essentially said the same thing, except related specifically to their stat.

Huh… so… all just… a copy of the same flavor text. Joe looked over his stats and saw all of the recent stats had breached ten thousand, base stats, without any stats from any of his jobs. It only counted the ten percent he had from all accumulated jobs. While it was an interesting piece of data and matched with what was written in the description, their uniform description, except to change key words such as 'defense,' 'MP,' 'dexterity,' or 'agility' actually made the description seem rather unhelpful. He wasn't sure what was happening or what 'journey' he was on. Still, he allowed himself to feel a certain joy at having completed the 'full set' of quarks, or daos, for each of his stats. Well… interesting? I guess?

So… Joe turned his thoughts to other things and decided to begin planning his daily schedule. I … really need to get some exercise… lost a lot with… lost legs. Heh… So then… exercise in the mornings… but don't really want anyone to see, so… out into the forest? Stay out for a couple hours as I practice before returning? Then… mana during the day… watching… Joe's thoughts ran through his options and quickly came up with a schedule. But none of this is helping me escape a… Joe quashed the thought immediately, gritting teeth against the swell of hopelessness that almost crushed him, ignoring the writhing of the collar. Prepare… be prepared. That I can do…

Each morning, he woke, sometimes well rested, sometimes plagued by dreams of blood and innocence, and then slipped into the forest far enough from anyone so no one could see. It took him a bit of time to find a good spot far enough away to be hidden but it still took a good half an hour to scout and make sure nobody was around. He then returned home and bathed as best he could before taking the afternoon to sit under what was fast becoming 'his' tree and watching the camp with careful eyes.

The struggle was timing and managing the compulsion to return to the camp each day. The compulsion was rather easy to deal with. As long as he honestly planned out his events without any intention of fleeing or arbitrarily and dishonestly extending his stay, nothing kept him bound to the camp. That said, the struggle to push through the jungles with no legs made trips much longer. Searching for any followers or spies was another long effort. By then, he only had a short time to actually do any exercise and it wasn't too useful for his combat katas because he had no legs. Then he had to reverse the whole thing getting back after lunch.

Losing a meal when the meals were already rather light on protein and calories was ultimately unacceptable and only a few days later, Joe was forced to change his schedule. He, instead, returned to a more basic schedule, indulging his insanity in the morning, spying on the camp throughout the late morning and afternoon while whittling and intensively practicing his mana skills, then heading to his tent when they were all herded back there just before sunset. In the tent, he did an upper body workout as best he could, including any combat katas that only used his upper torso. Sadly, there were very few of the kind, and Joe was done usually rather quickly, so added more mana skill practice while he lay and fell asleep. That didn't take long as by then, he was exhausted due to the long days, and was falling asleep quickly.

Without the distraction of his insanity job, and recovering some sleep, he was soon back to waking for several hours in the middle of the night, and it was during that time that he began to put in significant practice to a full body workout and his healing skills.

This came about a few days into the new schedule when he realized he was deep in his tent with a light source he controlled and the slave master also proved too cheap to keep any nearby light and heat sources for the slaves outside. Snuffing the small brazier was easy, so he began exercising as he woke early in the morning each day. After another few days, he decided that he really wanted to feel the use of his legs again as well as maintain his skill in using his legs for combat. He almost worried about muscle atrophy, but then quickly realized he had no muscles to really worry about atrophying. His legs were gone. A loss of skill, however, was not something he looked forward to. Besides, he had magic. His limbs could and would return, and he remembered, despite the foggy vague memory, having lost and regained his legs with the slave master's healer. So, he began to set out to do the same.

Over the next several weeks, Joe learned how to regrow his legs. It took him over an hour at first, but with a good two or three hours of boredom, Joe learned an hour to regrow his legs was acceptable. The best regenerative heal skill came from the regen mage, which made complete sense. And he quickly learned that the regen mage was best at exactly that, restoring and recreating lost tissue. The healing mage appeared to excel at repairing damage to existing tissue and while it could rebuild or recreate lost tissue, it seemed to cost staggering amounts of mana and took much longer.

The regen spells, however, rebuilt and created new tissue cheaply and much more consistently than the heal spells in the healing mage line. Despite the efficiency and better time, it still took almost an hour of effort and almost his entire mana pool to recover his legs. Getting limbs back in only an hour, however, seemed more than acceptable to Joe, and he began practicing with his full body, feeling a sense of relief that seemed rather over the top.

The first time he was able to stand again and actually feel his toes sliding through the dirt and shifting his body through the various katas hit Joe hard, and he sat on his bed softly crying to himself in relief and joy. He allowed himself only that one time, however, and rose back up to fight again. And so Joe would do this every night, practicing well and putting a lot of effort to rebuild his skills and abilities.

His healing and regenerative spell skills also blossomed, growing incredibly quickly with great power. He quickly learned to improve both his efficiency and speed, slowly lowering the time and cost needed to regenerate his legs. He was soon able to regrow his legs in only about a half an hour. The first major breakthrough for that came from understanding that he didn't really need to think that hard about it. At the beginning, he tried to focus on an image of what he wanted, rebuilding his legs as best he could. He didn't do too bad, but was deeply concerned when his first set of legs came out a bit too long and gangly. For almost a week, he struggled to get the image of what his legs should be correct, quickly growing in skill but his legs never really felt right. Towards the end of the first week of his efforts, frustration had welled deeply and he finally just exploded with annoyance, huffing and complaining. He maintained his regenerative efforts, but lost himself in his mental frustration.

By the time he looked down again, he noticed that his legs were almost completely regrown and he was shocked. He immediately turned back to the task, focusing on completing his toes only to find that his legs, for the most part, felt normal, but his toes felt off. The epiphany came quickly after that, and soon he was simply applying power and a general command while allowing his body to do what it knew best; grow.

Memories of biology returned to him then, and soon he grew even faster as he focused on simply driving his body to grow stem cells and then allowing them to differentiate as needed. His focus then became to simply stimulate growth.

Secondly, he began using both regen mage and heal mage simultaneously, rebuilding tissue with his regenerative magic while somehow healing it. This was necessary because as he began pushing the speed of his regen magic capabilities, strange things began happening. At about a regen speed of fifteen minutes, his legs began to feel odd or not quite right. A few times, he even noticed some strange lumps and odd knots in his legs. If he pushed past fifteen minutes, the lumps became full on growths and strange forms. Getting a regenerative speed down below ten minutes started really creating freaky things with massive forms and lumps and twisting flesh that split off his legs with one time even seeming like he'd grown a small third leg that split off at the knee of his right leg.

There were several major problems that came from pushing too fast. The first was that the faster he went the more it seemed to cannibalize his body, leaving him starving and emaciated. Healing helped with that, to an extent, but it was a fix after the fact and took incredible amounts of time and made him voraciously hungry after. It seemed that the faster he pushed either healing or regenerative magics, it sacrificed both efficiency, the bodily mass of the person, and was greatly prone to errors. The first was not a concern to Joe. He would be able to continue increasing his mana pool size. The second was an issue if he didn't get enough food. The third was terrifying and he found that out as he pushed the envelope.

The freakiest examples were the growths. The 'extra leg' from his knee had almost left him feeling queasy and unable to continue, but recognizing the importance of growth, he pushed himself. He'd been able to really integrate his heal and regen magic well, and decided that he would see how fast he could get his limbs back. He couldn't break the seven or eight minute mark, uncertain of the exact time because he had no real time keeping device, but he wasn't sure he wanted to because of one event that had him actually vomiting for a bit.

When he pushed as fast and hard as he possibly could, his legs visibly grew under his eyes and flooded down like a wave towards his toes. They proved functional as he was able to stand and move, but there were massive growths and bubbly forms all over his knees, calves, and feet. Oddly, the soles of his feet proved clear. The strange growths and odd formations felt odd on him and disrupted his balance, which were already bad enough. The ick factor was much worse, however. He dealt with it by not looking at his legs. That did not last long, though, as one move had him spinning and ending with a twist, giving him a view at the back side of his right calve. He found himself staring at it with some confusion for a time, eyebrows dancing with the confusion, until he realized what he was looking at. High on the right calf, just below the back of the knee and bulging off the inner side of his calf was a nose and below it were a few malformed almost lips, twisted up in a snarl revealing two snaggleteeth.

Joe froze with the realization, horror twisting across his face until he lurched over to the side of the tent and gagged. He didn't let anything up, not wanting vomit to stain the ground of his tent, especially as he had no way to clean it up.

He spent a good half an hour struggling to deal with what that revelation, then spent another half an hour setting forth a plan for how he would deal with regenerating limbs. In the end, he recognized that things started going haywire just a bit before the fifteen minute mark. His legs seemed mostly fine if he took fifteen minutes, and he initially decided to make that his limit. However, he quickly decided that if there were any tumorous growths in his legs, they could just as easily enter his blood stream to the rest of his body, so decided to double the limit to a half an hour.

Testing and autopsies showed that half an hour was actually a good limit. To the best of his untrained ability, things looked good and there were no issues anywhere in his legs if he took a half an hour to form his legs. He chose this for now basically because that was the point at which attempting to 'heal' his legs with healing magic cost no mana. If no mana spent… nothing to heal, right? So mostly… or all OK? Still, he decided to err on the side of caution and aimed to take an hour or two for any permanent replacements. For now, temporarily, he made the arbitrary decision of a half an hour and kept to it.

This, of course, was only because his legs were temporary each night. The problem with growing his legs was that the slave master and the guards all knew that he was legless. It would be a very bad idea to wake the next morning with fully functional limbs. That only left him one option: removing the limbs.

Cutting off one's own legs was its own struggle for Joe, both mentally and physically. Causing self-harm was never one of Joe's struggles and despite knowing the necessary and temporary nature of it, laying a sword or axe against his thigh and cutting it off was stomach churning. It was also incredibly difficult to get a good cut on his legs. The angle was awkward and the power he could bring to bear was greatly reduced because of that awkward angle. He'd found himself panicking on the first night as he struggled to hack his first leg off until he remembered his magical super powered abilities. Tapping into that proved to be the final step he needed, and with an axe and a mana empowered strike, his legs snipped off at his lower thigh with ease.

He'd lain their gasping for a time while pain roared through him, much weaker than it should be due to his new titles, but still overwhelming likely more due to the psychological impact of losing his legs again and personally being the cause. When he stood to look at the remarkably blood free ground and saw his two legs severed and sitting in the ground, he found his stomach twisting violently again. After calming himself, he was able to take both legs into his inventory. He put it into his bag as it was easier to just suck it in than to have to open the space door and toss the legs in.

Each leg took a single slot each, and Joe had grown concerned until the next night after he'd severed his legs again. He sucked a leg in and saw it stack on one of his legs in his inventory. The next leg stacked on the other. A quick glance revealed that they'd been separated by left and right.

By the time he was in the routine completely, he had a stack of twenty eight left and right legs in his inventory. He'd also grown rather emotionally distant and numb to the whole thing, the twenty eight left and right legs in his inventory now more an easy way to keep track of time than a recognition of what they truly were.

The final change that Joe had to make was to add back in a small trip into the forest. This time, however, it was for Joe to seek out the local wildlife to add much more protein to his diet than what he'd had before. The camp really was skimping on calories and protein. So, once a week, he would slip into the forest and hunt, his bow and arrows proving useful. In that hunt, he was often able to return with several small or a large single creature, harvesting it of everything he could and storing it in his inventory. There was a deep psychological need to keep everything if he could, the uncertainty from his capture driving him to seek anything out for a possible free future.

If he was lucky enough to get a large creature, a boar or deer equivalent, his hunting periods shifted from a weekly to monthly or even longer periods. His storage inventory proved a massive boon here, allowing him to hunt larger game, butcher it, then fill up a slot or two with the meat, hide, and any other useful bits of the animal.

At first, he tried to dry it or turn it into jerky, but remembering that time seemed to be frozen within the space, he dumped a chunk of meat in his inventory and left it for almost a month. It came out fresh and still hot from the body heat of the animal. It had been one of the first pieces he'd carved from the carcass. After that, he simply piled the meat in and then would cook it over his brazier in his tent. Protein and calorie count was no longer an issue for Joe.

However, his frequent trips out and his previous frequent trips into the dungeon had called attention, so he put off dungeon trips for the next couple months and, after he'd gotten a good stockpile of meat, he stopped his long forays into the forest.

That said, two struggles he had was keeping his clothing well maintained as his rapid flights through the forest with mana powered boosts made keeping his clothing free of tears a real difficulty. It soon became rather vital that Joe move carefully, making sure his clothing didn't tear or rip. He had no way to replace it and no desire to draw eyes if he kept showing up with increasingly torn clothing.

The second struggle was cooking without drawing attention, the searing meat and appetizing flavor permeated everything as he struggled to cook silently over his small brazier in his room. That necessitated Joe shifting his cooking to late at night when he woke, cooking as he practiced in the cark of night.

And so Joe's days passed for the next several months. Mana practicing throughout the day and evening while he whittled his chess pieces and stared at the people around him. Evenings tended to be short, especially once he was in bed, but the middle of the night sessions proved significant and pleasant, even if he had to practice his forms in a more Tai Chi-esque fashion without their typical explosive power for fear of the noise. Still, Joe found himself growing comfortable with his efforts.

It didn't last long. The slave master began sending in his torturers again, and resisting the pain of having his thigh shaved off another half an inch or so was almost impossible. Still, he kept his pain to soft whimpers and hidden rage. And when they finally left, the physical exhaustion was overcome by the mental terror and adrenaline. He lost a lot of time at night once the torture began again, but he was still able to practice after, re-growing his leg quickly helping to resolve the pain he felt from their efforts.

One last effort he'd put in over the last few months was to change his jobs to any that had passive 'char:' skills. He kept the believer job equipped the entire time, the three 'char:' skills a huge lure. He also kept the mage job with its two 'char:' skills equipped as much of the time as possible as well, two 'char:' skills from a single job also enticing. He only had the hunter bow and commoner cudgel unlocked, currently, as well as a free 'char:' from the skill theorist job. A further scouring of his skills revealed a 'char:' in specialist, gifted, Loki Pope, and the warrior job. Careful planning and thought had him equip warrior and specialist. Warrior because having access to combat weaponry was something that comforted Joe in his current position and specialist because while it was useless now, having a permanent fifty percent boost to learning would be very important later.

Also, gifted would likely be a job he would use often simply because of its massive boost to learning. He had no job to change jobs, sacrificing even his priest job despite the fact that Loki pope had a 'char:' skill as well. But, because he'd been equipping and using it for so long, that 'char:' was almost already at level one as well. It would pop over again when he started leveling again and would need pope equipped. His jobs were doing nothing, nor were his stats. So, he left them developing the passive skills slowly in the background.

Otherwise, nothing changed: rise in the morning, fake his situation throughout the day, sleep, wake to searing pain, sooth that pain with practice, then sleep once more only to start all over again. The only real change and outside stimulation he had was from watching people. He watched the slaves. He watched the guards who were also slaves. And he watched the only free person in this entire camp, the slave master who seemed to be named Eelyeh or something similar. The name might be longer, but his inability to understand usually left Joe struggling to understand when a name ended and another word began.

As for the slaves, the obvious hierarchy difference was between the guards and the trainees. But even within group, Joe began to notice a subtle assumed hierarchy. The lowest on the totem pole seemed to be the pure humans, although there were other humanoids that were present. These other humanoids, however, seemed to hold a lot of respect. They looked like humans, only subtly different due to an exaggerated difference either in height or width. Basically, the dwarves, halflings, gnomes, elves, and any other variation on the human form were at the top. People deferred to them or treated them more cautiously, even the guards would do so to such slaves. It was with a sudden epiphany that Joe realized that pretty much all the guards were base humans. Only two were kin with their animalistic differences in ear or tail. These two were the obvious bosses of the guards. But they also bowed before the two elves and couple dwarven slaves in the camp. Human… kin… then the humanoid fantasy creatures… seems to be the hierarchical difference… Joe watched the others with a burning intensity buried and enhanced by a blind rage. And no one spoke or interacted with him; nor did he want any to have anything to do with him. Joe sat under a tree, sharp rock carving against his wood pieces, mumbling and growling to himself while intense eyes stared everywhere at everyone.