Chapter 44: Idyllic Days (II)

Inside one of the houses at the outskirts of the village, there was Tobias, and in front of him was Magnus. He could see that the old man was still strong as ever, even if more hair strands were whiter than the last time he saw him a year ago. But he still kept it neatly trimmed.

Looking around, Tobias could see that everything was still the same. Clean, polished, and the furniture was unmoved – the great portraits of Magnus’ and Marcus’ grandfathers only continued to look down on them indifferently... Nothing changed about the place, not even a single speck of dust, it seemed.

It only spoke of the old man’s discipline, work ethic, and tidiness, if nothing else.

“And for what reason have you returned here, Tobias?” Magnus asked, and although his face wasn’t terribly confused at his sudden, unannounced appearance, Tobias could see the old man was somewhat surprised.

“You must have heard of the Magical Dungeon which manifested in the place a few weeks ago, right?” Tobias asked, and his question was answered by a nod. “So... I’ve become a fully fledged Adventurer now, and my party cleared that Magical Dungeon. And they might have met my family, and now they decided to take a vacation in this place.”

“So you were the Party who accepted that Dungeon, I see.” Magnus simply nodded. “And the reason why you did not talk to me last time was...?” Tobias flinched. He had no answer to that – or rather, he didn’t have an offending answer to that. “Well, no matter. Judging by your face, I understand why exactly.”

Tobias blinked. Then he carefully looked towards the old man, who still wore an indifferent face. “What... conclusion did you even arrive to?”

“I live in a far off corner of the village.” He replied, walking off to the side of the room as his wooden leg tapped against the stone floor. “Bothering to try to visit me and introducing your party would only lead to you wasting time which would be otherwise used to clear the Magical Dungeon.”

Tobias blinked again. This old man... was simply too blunt and practical. But really, there was no need to phrase it in such a way, especially since it was concerning him.

“That’s... yeah. You’re right.” He admitted, sighing to himself. “You really do know how I think, don’t you?”

“I was your mentor.” Magnus replied, turning around to retrieve something from a box. “It would only be natural for me to know how my student thinks. So then... Have you grown any closer to your goal?”

“I think.” He replied, as he stared at his right palm which wasn’t covered by his leather gloves. The faint marks of darkened, toughened skin – subtle callouses – developed from fighting intense battles with a sword... “I did get stronger and closer to my goal. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel I’m still very far away.”

“The fact that you are still alive is a sign that you are traveling down that goal of yours.” The old man said, his rough, gravelly voice, and wise words inspiring hope within Tobias. “Come on, then. You have to show me how much you have improved.”

And with those words, Magnus tossed a wooden sword towards him – the very same wooden sword Tobias had used half a year ago, in that frigid, cold, snowy clearing. He caught the tossed weapon with his right hand easily.

And with that, a single nod was the only warning, before Magnus rushed in to attack him.

***

That duel only lasted three exchanges.

First; Magnus’ initiating diagonal slash was parried away, while Tobias’ sword looped around for a counter. But Magnus had managed to step away – his wooden leg providing a sturdy base now that they weren’t in a snowy battlefield where it was prone to slippage.

Second; Tobias’ lunging thrust to chase after Magnus was parried away as well, and a retaliatory strike which consisted of a thrust was dodged narrowly by Tobias twisting his torso, the wooden sword grazing against his chest horizontally.

Third; Tobias maneuvered his sword around to point towards Magnus’ neck, while latter’s wooden sword was still extended across his chest.

It was his decisive victory. Short, precise, and simple like that. A short, intense exchange of strikes, counters, and minimal footwork.

He had learned much from his intense duel with Jacques; his flowing, fleeting arc-like strikes and counter attacks, along with the fact that they were forced to duel without any footwork involved because both of their shins were broken – he had only applied what he learned to this duel.

Finally, Tobias withdrew the wooden blade, and lowered it. Similarly, Magnus slowly did so, and for the first time, his indifferent face turned into something faintly resembling impressed amazement.

“It appears that what you said is true.” Magnus drawled, as he extended his hand forwards, demanding the wooden blade back. And when Tobias gave it back, he only walked back to the corner of the room, and stored it in the box again. “I really have nothing to teach to you anymore.”

“I see.” Tobias then bowed down to him. “Thank you for teaching me everything you know, then.”

“You are welcome.” He waved his hand, dismissing the thought. Then he looked around. “Now then, where are your party members? You have to introduce them to me, at the very least.”

“Well...” Tobias began, then let out a sigh. “They’re still asleep.”

Because at the end of the day – or rather, he should say; at the beginning of that day, it was still barely sunrise.

And it should be known that his friends weren’t exactly morning people, either.

So now then, what would Tobias do while waiting for his friends to wake up? That would be to go to the forest to train, of course. He wasn’t the kind of person who lingered around doing nothing, after all.

***

As he strolled through the forest casually, he found that the tree with the sanded-off branch was still alive and well. But the branch was covered in bark at last – proof that it hadn’t been sanded in the longest while.

He eyed the branch, while giving his arms a nice stretch and warm up. When he jumped up to grab at it, he only thought it was too nostalgic – he had been here last autumn.

So he begun to think, all while pulling himself upwards and keeping a mental count.

And if he remembered correctly... A year ago, while he pulling himself upwards, he was trying to figure out a way to defeat old man Magnus in a fist fight.

Well... If their sword duel had anything to prove... Tobias really did not mean this as a brag, but he was confident that he would win in a fist fight, 10/10. But then again, Magnus was already well past his prime, and had settled down as a father for the past seventeen or so years.

Tobias wondered if he would be able to contend against Magnus in his prime. And somehow, that thought only made him feel oddly excited, and melancholic at the same time.

The former, because being able to beat Magnus at his prime would be an achievement he would be proud of. And the latter was simply because such a case was impossible.

But then again, he had never beaten Magnus in a spear duel. Mostly because Magnus didn’t really want to teach him how to duel against spears... But did it matter?

If he could probably win against Magnus using a spear with a sword a year ago, and he knows how to fight with a spear... Then he should know how to fight a spear with a spear, right?

In theory, at least. Execution was always a different matter, but he’s confident that he’ll be able to learn the nuances in a short while.

Now... what was his pull up count again? Two hundred? That was his peak last autumn.

But now... That only a fifth of what he was able to do.

He really did grow leaps and bounds in terms of physical abilities, didn’t he?

***

After his exercise, the sun, in combination with his experience, told him that it was already time for breakfast. Because really, if there was anything he remembered exceptionally well from his training, then it would be when meal times occurred.

So he idly stretched his limbs to relax them, and refreshed himself in the nearby river settled over there. That was also a large reason why that area was picked as his training ground, after all. And when he was done, he headed back home.

Surely everyone should be awake by now, right?

And he was correct. Because when he had returned back home, it seemed like the house was busier than it had ever been. His friends were seated in the main room, and he instinctively knows that his family was out in the back, cooking something for everyone to eat.

Well... He didn’t know how Andre or Erise could help, but Catherine was a good cook by her own right, or so he says.

It should be noted that while his friends had their hair combed at the very least, the fact that their eyes were still droopy meant that they probably just woke up recently. And the only one who reacted to his presence was Bastille, who slowly waved to him.

Then just like that, he walked over to them, and sat himself at a vacant spot in the chair. Which was right next to Jacques, who apparently chose to seat himself on the corner of one of the couches in the room.

Glancing besides him, Tobias could see that Jacques’ right eye was still wildly unfocused and glazed over. Ever since that incident, it seemed like he had taken to shutting his left eye most of the time, unless he needed to use his ability to foresee the future.

On the other chair, Bastille already seemed to be alert enough. Then again, wasn’t he studious and woke up early enough to study back in his former life?

And Clara... She was probably napping while sitting up, really. Her eyes were still closed, and she swayed to one side, before sitting up with a jolt, only for the process to be repeated again later on.

Tobias didn’t feel like talking, and Bastille didn’t feel like talking either, so they just kept silent while watching their friends who were currently half-asleep.

That was simply the case.

For once, Tobias let his mind stop thinking for a while, and just stayed still.

How strangely relaxing it was to simply sit around, without thinking about anything, and without doing anything.

***

And if there’s anything Tobias did not miss when it came to returning back to his village... It was the meals.

Because really... even if today’s porridge was seasoned, salted, and even had some chicken in it, it was still porridge at the end of the day.

And he had been eating that everyday for the past fifteen years.

Call him spoiled, or call him picky, but after being exposed to the taste of different tastier, fancier meals, then of course he wouldn’t want to eat any kind of porridge ever again.

Tobias idly looked at their dining table. Once more, because the table was only large enough for six people to eat, there were sacrifices to be made.

And by sacrifices, he was being sarcastic. He meant that they had to eat in two groups. Because they were apparently the guests right now, Tobias and his party were asked to eat first. And when they tried to decline it, his mother only insisted and just like that, they relented.

Well... the good thing was the fact that they were left alone on the dining room. If his mother was there, she would no doubt make a comment about how he wasn’t eating a lot – or at all, really.

“Toby, what’s wrong?” Clara asked, and for the briefest of moments, he thought that his mother or older sister came to check on him.

“Why? What made you ask that?” He asked, letting out a sigh.

“You look like you’re worried.” She replied, even though she had already scooped some of her porridge, and while she wasn’t exactly happily chewing on it unlike any other time, she still seemed happy enough to eat.

“I’m not really worried.” He replied, raising his wooden spoon and giving a small wince, before he forced the porridge to his mouth. It actually tasted decent for once, but the texture was still awful. “I just don’t like what we’re eating right now...”

“Wait, am I hearing right?” Bastille spoke up, looking at him with shock. “Tobias – you actually don’t like eating something?!”

“I’d like to see you try eating the same thing for your entire life.” He replied, only staring at the Sorcerer without any sort of amusement.

“I guess I can see why you’d get bored of this...” Bastille winced, as he poked his spoon in his own wooden bowl of porridge.

“I’m more surprised that Jacques isn’t complaining.” Tobias said, calling out their Leader, who only craned his neck to face him with a questioning expression. “You’re from a Noble house, right? Don’t you eat fancy meat and cheese or something?”

“Well, yes.” Jacques admitted, after he dabbed a napkin on the corner of his lips... Where did his napkin come from? And why was his bowl already clean? “But I would consider this good food. Don’t you think so, Tobias?”

“Good food, how?” Tobias blinked. Then he realized the subtle undertone in Jacques’ message. “–Oh...”

Because really. Even if Jacques didn’t state it out right, the fact that he most definitely lived in sub-human conditions back when he was still in that facility... It was most definitely the most terrible thing, ever, and food was most likely seen as a luxury.

Sometimes, Tobias wished that he didn’t ask Bastille to tell him about the history of some great World War from his world, and how they would commit atrocities in the name of science. All because he was curious on what human experimentation sounded like.

...

Yeah. He had no appetite anymore. Not that he didn’t have much to begin with.

“And now, you look sad.” Bastille spoke up, interrupting him from his thoughts. He idly looked up, and found that the Sorcerer was confused at this development. “But for real Tobias, something wrong?”

“Not really.” Tobias admitted, with a shrug. “I’m just thinking a lot more recently.”

“Oh. Is it because you’re at home?” Clara asked from the side, and he hummed in response.

Was he actually thinking a lot because he was at home? It somewhat made sense. The sheer amount of nostalgia that was being invoked in him was significant, if nothing else. And it also made him think about unrelated things a lot more – because he was at home.

He was thinking a lot more than normal exactly because he was at home; he felt and knew that he was safe, so it was only natural for him to lapse into more sophisticated thoughts.

So he nodded. “I guess that’s the case.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked again.

“No, it’s nothing important, don’t worry.” He said, shaking his head. But he did flash her a thumbs up. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Clara said nothing after that, and only pursed her lips. But she respected his decision, and nodded at his way, before also finishing her bowl of porridge.

From the corner of his vision, he could see Bastille shrug, while Jacques just kept silent to himself.

Their leader was after all, observant enough to figure out what was currently making Tobias distressed. But it didn’t really matter, it wasn’t really Jacques’ fault. It was Tobias’ for being too curious.

He stared down at his bowl of half-eaten porridge. Yeah, he should probably get to eating before his mother scolds him for not finishing his food, really.