I panted, hands on my knees and rope by my feet. My arms were sore and scuffed, and a multitude of bruises covered my body, only half of which could be traced back to my feline friend. The training had been thorough, bordering on relentless.

Predictably, I got soaked. Kiria was a thorough instructor, using her water magic to punish mistakes and correct my movements. At times it seemed she was just playing at my expense, but then I would realize a new technique to improve my form. Of course, then she would increase the difficulty. It was occasionally frustrating, but overall, I felt good. I was more in tune with my body and could now wield the rope dart with a small degree of proficiency.

Hours had passed since we began, so I looked up to see how much daylight there was left. To my surprise, the sun was still high in the sky. I would have guessed it was two o’clock or so judging from its location, but I could have sworn it’d be closer to six or seven.

“Something wrong?” Kiria asked as she walked toward me.

I shook my head. “No, I was just wondering what time it was. I thought we’d been at this for a few hours now, but it’s still mid-afternoon.”

“Huh?” Kiria tilted her head. “No, you’re right. We started about three hours ago. It’s nineteen hundred hours now.”

“Eh?” I said, my brow furrowed. “Then shouldn’t the sun be close to setting by now?”

“Why would it?” Kiria asked. “Spring just started, so sunset won’t be until about twenty-three hundred hours.”

Er, what? Wouldn’t that be in the middle of the night? Unless… “Hey, Kiria,” I began. “How many hours in a day are there?”

Kiria’s nose wrinkled in a look that said I’d asked something she considered really weird, but answered, “Thirty?” A moment passed, and her expression shifted from bemused to wide-eyed wonder. “Oh! Right! You’re from another world or something, right? How many hours were your days?”

“Twenty-four,” I said. But now I was wondering if we were even counting time the same way. I really hoped so. If I had to learn a new way to count minutes in addition to a new calendar, that would be struggle and a half.

I brought up that possibility and Kiria helped by counting the seconds up to a minute. Neither of us had a watch or any sort of timepiece, so I couldn’t be completely certain, but it seems at least those base units matched up. Seconds were seconds, sixty seconds comprised a minute, and sixty minutes comprised an hour. There were just thirty hours per day.

Incidentally, I also learned that weeks were six days long while months were twenty-eight days long. This seemed odd to me given that twenty-eight was not a multiple of six, but apparently weeks and months weren’t connected to each other, but to the phases of the two moons.

“Are you too tired to keep going, then?” Kiria asked me after teaching me about this world’s time system. “I planned to finish passing through the jungle and then camp in a safe zone at the base of the mountain, but that’s still another four or five hours, depending on what we run into.”

I considered her words, balancing the risk of fatigue against the risk of the Oracle moving on before we arrived. “How many days will it take us to reach the summit?”

“Just one or two,” Kiria replied, much to my surprise. She must have noticed my expression, for she continued, “If I were in a hurry and used all my skills, I could probably get there by midnight. This isn’t really that big an island. Just a couple hundred selles. Maybe more. I don’t really remember.”

I nodded. “And you said there’s a safe zone there?”

“Yeah,” Kiria confirmed. “There’s a small cave just beyond the edge of the jungle. We cleared it out and put a reinforced door across the entrance so no animals or monsters could get inside. It was one of the proposed campsites, but was too far away from the ocean, so we made it an outpost instead.”

“An enclosed cave, hm?” I looked around the clearing and all the trees. This was a relatively safe spot with the dense foliage, but it wouldn’t stop anything really determined or anything that could fly or navigate the branches. I was also used to staying up until midnight, so another four hours on the move didn’t sound too bad with a veteran escort. “I think I can make it. But what should we do about all this?” I asked, gesturing to the meat, bones, and claws.

“Ah,” Kiria’s eyed widened. “I forgot about all that.”

I eyed the pile of iron claws, wondering what else I could do with the metal, but knowing it would be too difficult to transport all remaining hundred and eighteen of them. The bones could also be used for crafting, but I didn’t have any idea how I’d even approach that. Same with the pelts. Those would need to be delivered to Gerik for tanning, and there was too much meat for just the two of us. “Could you take these back to the settlement, please?”

“Really?!” Kiria perked up, her tail swishing behind her. “These are your spoils, and you have all the rights to them. Father wouldn’t even let you stay in the village without imprisoning you. But you’d still be willing to help everyone?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m not quite sure how I feel about helping the chief like this, but I know what’s it like to experience food insecurity. Even if this will only provide a single meal for the settlement, I’d like to help however I can.”

Kiria’s eyes teared a bit and she leaped forward for a hug. “Thank you, Micah.”

“You’re welcome,” I returned the embrace, reminded of some of my younger ‘sisters’ back at the orphanage. After a moment, I released her and stepped over to the pile of meat, which had long since warmed in the midday sun during the training session. “I’ll cool these back down. [Heat Transfer].”

The mana immediately began flowing of its own accord, siphoning energy away from the largest piece once again. One thing I noted was that vocalizing the skill name made it slightly easier and faster to cast at the cost of a small degree of control and efficacy. I didn’t have to gather and move my mana directly, the channeling process occurring automatically. I could see there being definite advantages and disadvantages to this.

While my thoughts whirled, the skill gradually cooled down most of the meat, aside from a few cuts. “Before you go, could you tell me how I should cook this? I can prepare it before you return.”

“Oh, sure!” Kiria said. “First thing you wanna do is create a dirt circle clear of grass and other plants. Then you throw some dry sticks together, surround it with rocks, set it on fire, and hold the meat over with it!”

Maybe it was my mistake for asking. That was hardly different from what I had in mind. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Great!” Kiria exclaimed. “I’ll put up a concealment barrier so nothing’s attracted to the fire. Usually animals run away from fire, but it wouldn’t hurt. [Wind Veil]!”

A gentle breeze flowed outward from Kiria, and I felt a faint sensation of mana spreading through the clearing, gathering at its edges. I focused on the mana, trying to visualize the mana not only within, but without. It was difficult to see. My perception of mana was weak, and even though I knew something was there, I could hardly make it out.

“If you wanna learn [Mana Sense], it helps to be in a mana rich environment,” Kiria said. “Naturally occurring sources will be stronger, but artificial fields like this one can help too. The mana within the veil is denser than usual in order to redirect the attention of unwanted eyes and ears.”

“Wow,” I marveled at her [Wind Veil] skill, looking around the clearing. It was no different to my eyes, but I could just about tell something was there, like seeing a slight movement in your peripheral vision. “Do you have to supply all the mana for this field yourself?”

Kiria shook her head. “Fortunately, no. [Wind Veil] gathers mana from the air to operate the concealment effect. I still need to supply enough for it to get started though, so it consumes half of maximum mana even with the second level of [Mana Efficiency].

“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m gonna go drop these off and head back. Should be faster this time since I won’t have to hide myself at the camp. I’ll be sure to tell everyone that you hunted these on your own, too. [Wind Manipulation]!”

At her command, the wind gathered around the piles of meat, pelts, and bones, lifting them off the ground and floating them together into a single aerial stack. “The iron claws are rarer, so you should keep those. Just stuff them in your bag or something. See ya soon!”

For the second time today, Kiria jumped into the trees, carrying the supplies her people could use a lot more than we could alone.

Satisfied, I turned to my next task of gathering the stick and branches I would need for this campfire. With all the trees around, not to mention the bedding from the rats’ den, it wasn’t too hard to assemble the kindling.

Next, I expanded the groove I had dug for the iron claws earlier into a proper base for the fire. There were no stones or large rocks nearby, and I wasn’t confident enough to venture to the river again after how well that turned out the last time. So I made a rim of packed earth that would keep the fire from spreading.

From there, I placed the smallest twigs and sticks in first, along with some dry plants along the bottom of the makeshift fire pit, concentrated at the center. Above that, I laid larger branches in order of increasing length as the structure grew outward, making sure to keep enough space between each branch to allow air to flow through to feed the fire. Soon, the pile of branches took on the tepee shape I was familiar with in pictures.

I gathered the mana around me and formed the connection to a small twig at the bottom, intending to set it aflame first to spread to the rest of the wood. But instead of a single target like usual, I tried to spread the scope of the skill to encompass several of the smallest twigs. I knew I could transfer heat between myself and a larger object of the same equivalent volume, so surely I could target multiple, smaller objects at once if they were close together.

Unfortunately, the skill stubbornly held onto its singular target, sending the heat straight into the tiny twig. Instead of spreading to several targets as I’d wished, my mana remained focused on the single diminutive piece of wood. I’d hoped that with [Mana Manipulation] I could increase the number of targets, but maybe that was too much of a change. Or maybe I just wasn’t doing it properly.

I spent the next few minutes trying different methods to expand [Heat Transfer]. Spreading the mana did little more than empty my own reserves, and I also couldn’t link another target in series with the first one. I almost thought I had something there, but I lost my mental grip on the sensation before I could understand it.

In the meantime, the campfire had long since been set aflame. The fire crackled, flicking tiny embers harmlessly into the clearing. White smoke rose into the canopy above. Upon reaching the wind barrier, it spread out along an invisible plane and dispersed into the veil, carried by currents unseen.

Cooking the meat was the easy part. I used the makeshift blade on my dart to cut the meat into smaller segments and slid them onto skewers I’d carved from leftover branches. I’d never grilled meat over an open campfire before, but I was familiar with the changing color of meat (or a close facsimile thereof) from a stint in the fast food industry.

While that cooked, I turned my attention inward. My [Mana Manipulation] skill allowed me to visualize and control my own mana and mana within range of my other skills, like the “close proximity” of [Heat Transfer]. From what Kiria described, [Mana Sense] extends this range so that I can interpret the presence of mana nearby. I likely wouldn’t be able to sense a person’s mana straight away, but I might be able to detect the [Wind Veil] she left behind.

I tried to imagine the mana within the clearing, held in place by the veil of wind. There were moments when I thought, for a brief moment, I could perceive something. At times, it was a feeling like sight, yet not. At others, it seemed mana was a song I could hear, yet not. There was a taste in the air; a scent that accompanied the fire and food, yet stood apart. Its touch was the faintest echo of feeling; the whisper of a promise upon the breeze. One of protection and hope.

What was mana to begin with? It was quantifiable by whichever system governed each individual’s status. But it also seemed highly subjective, influenced by thought. No, by intent.

Could that somehow indicate that mana was not merely some magical particle, but something more? Something alive? Not in terms of a sentient life form, but perhaps something akin to one’s cells. Responding to the wills of those attuned to it.

There was an element I’d been missing. Something to bind those five disparate impressions into a single, coherent sense.

Empathy.

I focused once more on the sensations I’d managed to glean from before. It was so close, I could practically feel the mana on the tip of my tongue, just out of reach. Grasping onto this menagerie of feelings, I opened my heart.

Mana surged through my veins, rushing through countless channels to fill the newly opened space. It was electrifying. I’d never noticed that my heart had been excluded from the circulation of mana originating from my core. Now that it was connected not just physically, but magically, I could feel a stark difference.

Each beat of my heart sent a small pulse of mana outward. It was an infinitesimal amount, making no impact on my current reserves. But I could feel this pulse interact with the surrounding air. I could perceive the shape of the mana that formed the concealment barrier. Not through one sense, but through a combination of senses, all fueled by the very mana it sought to detect.

Skill Acquired: Mana Sense

Mana Sense Lv. 1 — Sense the mana within your surroundings

Skill Advanced: Mana Sense Lv. 1 → Lv. 2

Mana Sense Lv. 2 — Sense the mana within monsters

A skill advancement at the same time as its acquisition? How did that happen?

I suppose it wasn’t too surprising considering how quickly I’d leveled up my other skills just the day before, but wasn’t this based on proficiency? Maybe it was enhanced by the Kiria’s [Wind Veil] or my practice with [Mana Manipulation].

The acrid stench of burnt meat hit my nose, and I realized with a start that I was still holding the now-blackened skewer over the campfire. “Aw, blast it!” I tried to wave the stick around to cool the charred meat, but it had caught fire as well, becoming hot to the touch. I dropped the skewer into the fire and hoped the smell would dissipate soon. There had been little on it. Surely it would turn to ash before long.

Vowing to pay attention this time, I began preparing another skewer when, suddenly, the smell of cinders increased. I turned to the campfire, expecting to see an increased flame, but it was unchanged.

Odd. I could’ve sworn I felt the heat rise. An inspection of the fire revealed nothing unusual, so I resumed the task at hand.

A few seconds later, fiery mana surged throughout the clearing accompanied by a loud roar. My head jerked to the source, and I looked on in disbelief.

Amidst the trees, I could just make out a narrow, elongated head atop a long neck peeking out over a large bush. It stepped clear of the foliage, revealing a horizontal body supported by four limbs and tail.

“A flipping dinosaur?!”

It was smaller than I would have expected, reaching only a couple feet in height and thrice that in length. But the lizard head, rough bronze skin, and thick tail made it clearly familiar.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered to myself, hoping the dinosaur wouldn’t come any closer. I could see it within the copse of the jungle, but it had yet to find the clearing. It stalked forward on its hind legs, using its moderately sized arms to brush away branches from its path or cut tall plants with its sharp claws.

Its claws were shorter than the rats’, colored jet black in a stark contrast to the brown skin and white underbelly of the approaching creature. A large jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth comprised most of its head, eyes mounted on either side, and a black streak traced its spine from the top of its head to the tip of its tail.

I picked up the rope dart and waited, watching for the slightest sign that it would walk past the concealment barrier. Now I knew where the fiery mana was coming from, at least. The mana emanated from this beast, meaning it was a veritable monster.

The dinosaur’s head swiveled around in search of something. It sniffed the air, deftly weaving through the trees just beyond [Wind Veil]’s perimeter.

Another wave of searing mana pulsed out from the dinosaur, and my [Mana Sense] picked up the distortion in the barrier as the fire and wind mana interacted. The long head jerked to the side, locking its yellow/orange eyes on me. Its black slitted pupils widened as it spotted me, the concealment broken.

I spun the rope dart.

The dinosaur charged.

It zipped past the tree line and dashed toward me with outreached claws. I released my grip on the rope and invoked [Throw] to shoot the dart forward. With astonishing speed, the dinosaur skipped to the side, avoiding the strike.

Undeterred, I brought my elbow forward and pivoted the rope into a swing that clipped the monster’s tail. It howled and jumped to the opposite end of the clearing, tail curled protectively behind it. Before it could counterattack, I transferred the dart’s momentum into a reverse spin.

The dinosaur observed me for a moment and, upon realizing I wouldn’t attack, leaped into the air to pounce. Assuming it couldn’t alter its trajectory mid-flight, I sprinted beyond where it could reach and [Threw] the dart behind me. It pierced the monster’s chest just enough to penetrate the skin, and I quickly coiled the rope once around my arm so I could yank the dart out hard.

A small amount of blood was visible on the dinosaur’s chest, and it roared once more. Before I could circle the dart again, the dinosaur took a deep breath and spat a ball of fire the size of a fist at me. I lacked the speed to shoot the dart directly, but I had a solution for that.

I swung the dart around my foot and wrapped it once, then kicked my leg out. The rope swiftly unraveled and sent the dart up at the perfect angle to intercept the fireball just before it hit me. The sharp edge pierced the mana holding the fire together, dissipating it into hot cloud of gas.

What I forgot was to pay attention to what the dinosaur was doing. Its tail slammed into my gut, sending me flying backward several meters before I dropped onto the ground with a groan. A wave of pain cascaded through my body, but I fought through it and rolled to the side moments before its follow-up charge. The dinosaur’s claws slashed the dirt while I grabbed for my dart.

It turned its head at the same moment I flung the dart with a mana overcharged [Throw], impacting the center of its forehead with enough force to shatter the iron on its skull, much to my surprise and dismay. The dinosaur roared, outraged, and spat out several more fireballs that rose into the air and fell back down to the den, igniting every surface they landed on.

I dodged the fiery artillery and rushed to a safe spot while bringing the rope dart back into a spin. The dinosaur recovered and glared at me, but didn’t immediately charge like before. Looking closer, I noticed that its gaze was unfocused. It couldn’t train its eyes on me.

Intending to seize the advantage, I swapped the rope dart for my sling and loaded the last stone I had recovered earlier, hoping I could strike the monster before it recovered.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to. Realizing its life was in danger, or perhaps unused to its prey fighting back, the dinosaur fled back into the jungle. The mana fires petered out, leaving behind a scorched den.

A grin spread across my face as the realization set in. I’d fought a monster without life-threatening injuries or needing to be rescued in the end.

Rustled leaves drew my attention from behind, and I spun around, readying my sling. To my relief, I saw Kiria descending from the trees, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. “What happened here?!”

I met her inquiring look with a smile. “I won.”